While I sit here, I recall my actions of last night which aren't all that worthy of writing about here...oh, and I fume about my roommates, who, both approaching 30, are the two largest losers in the entire world. If I didn't hate them so much, I would pity them.
In other news, the Idol "elimination show" was last night. I'm not surprised by the results at all. I think I kind of predicted them. All of the whining about "people already having their favorites" and "not getting enough face time" was pretty crappy. You got kicked off because you just aren't good enough so why don't you swallow your pride and leave with your chin up. It's the least you can do for America.
I don't have too much else to say about it, except that they've turned Scott Savol into some kind of ghetto superstar. He looks like he's about to jump in his Benz and go to P. Diddy's after party. And Mikala just looks weird like she's already the action figure of herself. Yes, I know I'm thinking about it too much, but I can't half ass this kind of thing. I'm in and committed or I'm out.
Which brings me to my next topic...My dear friend, Jen who is home sick today. In an attempt to cure whatever ails her, I've decided to recap an amusing story from our college days. It might be true, it might be false. I will say it's based on a true story. Does Jen even exist?? YOU'LL NEVER KNOW.
Jen and I ran with the same group of people for the first couple weeks of college, but did not really become friends until senior year. I thought she didn't like me for whatever reason, probably because I was super insecure and thought everyone hated me because I was wearing the wrong shoes or something. Anyway, Jen and I ended up bonding during "Senior Week" over a few bottles of Stoli Raz, copius amounts of fried food and general angst about our futures. Well, one night during that memorable week, things got a little out of hand. Jen and I were hangin out, smokin cigs down in front of Camp Co when her ex boyfriend, whom she recently broke up with (small penis) came strutting along. WELL, due to the Stoli Raz (shots), Jen was extremely intoxicated and volatile, as was I. Let's be honest folks...we were hoodlums, loners, drop outs, druggies...a scuffle ensued and the Ex ended up with a broken nose and a badly bruised ego Did we beat him up? Maybe. Did we pay some else to do it? Perhaps. But he learned never to fuck with Jen again...and boy was he surprised.
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