Bring it on, Biyatch!!

Noticing my past posts, I must fucking love the word fuck. Yes I do. Fuck yeah I do.

Something quite hilarious is going on around the world. Enemies of Bush, Sharon, and company, enemies of empire (good and bad, please don't mischaracterize this post as completely sympathetic to the figures of whom I speak) are trash-talking with the best street pick-up game player of them all. The first instance of this that comes to mind is Iran's throw down to Israel: Attack us, bitches, and we will put you in a coma with Sharon. Pretty much an exact quote except for the bitches part. The second is Al-Zawahari's attack on Bush for being a ineffective bumbling fool and a butcher. Osama has consistently issued video after video reminding Bush that he is still alive and well and taunting him over the years spent trying to catch him met only with failure. Perhaps only second best to Iran's coma remark is Hugo Chavez calling Bush an asshole and ribbing him from across the Caribbean that his Secretary of State wants his body. "Yep, Bush, I have Condolezza, soon I will be having Laura in the Oval Office on your desk, motherfucker. See the way ole Condi is walking today? I did that, and she loved it."

What can we expect next? Well, I am waiting for Hamas to issue some statement saying that they are going to pursue legit weapons deals to get them some Apaches and F-16s and level the playing field. They wouldn't even have to do it. They could just issue a press release and watch the entire country of Israel move underground. "Hahahaha motherfuckers; what can you do? What? See how we are legit now? How do you like it? It ain't so freakin cool when we get some planes, huh?" Its so funny; it the government is white and western, the violence is more legit, but if it is brown, then they are expected to renounce everything. Why not just ramp it up and call it collateral damage like Bush would? He went from sticking needles in pathetic, abused mens arms to devestating the whole world. He didn't renounce nothing; why would Hamas? Lastly, and something I can't wait to see, is Saddam get in on the trash-talking... "Hey Bush... yo mamma inspected my weapon of mass destruction last night..."

Fan Freakin' Tastic

Fan Freakin' Tastic

Is this how I do this? I forget.

I'm a bigger fuck-up than you...

Yeah, yeah... I know the last post was a tad outrageous. I know he will see it at some point. Chalk it all up to a sick mind and too much wasted time.

I am so motherfucking tired. I can't even begin to wonder how this day is going to go... I went to a law school society function last night that featured free bear and food. I didn't eat but I drank probably upwards of two pitchers by myself. I was drunk when I left, and I went home and drank more, smoked some weed, took some pain killers, and then passed out. I didn't study. Haha motherfuckers. After about an hour at the function last night, all the responsible, function kids left to go study, but not me. Not today. Instead, I had a party and went to bed all nice and fucked up.

One "stick up the ass" moment from last night's function, besides hearing all the responsible, functional kids whining about how much they have to study, was when a second year female student heard me talking about my former girlfriend... "yes, yes, my girlfriend, girlfriend, Girlfriend!"... and turned her entire body around, trying to look non-chalant, and gave me a freaked-out look before turning around again. I then said, loudly, something about the second years being shocked and horrified. To give her credit, at least at that point she started laughing and admitted that she turned around to look at me because she wanted to make sure that she heard that correctly and that she "didn't expect to be hearing that..." Oh yeah, I am sure that I am the only queerish-type in the entire law school. Right.

I am having a really hard time staying awake.

Now for a moment of ranting. This week, a fraternity at UT, the Delta Tau Deltas, held their spring pledge week that ended with the "Mekong Party." The entire week was Vietnam-era military themed. The frat house, on the corner of Dean Keeton and San Jacinto, was decorated with era style camo, tree sits, and netting, and the entire set up was surrounded by cut bamboo set in the ground to look real. This was blantantly racist to me, but apparently not to the rest of the entire university or Austin. "Mekong Party"? I wonder if the residents of the Mekong thought it was a party when our imperialist drive spurred our invasion and destruction of their homeland. Even from an America-centric perspective, the Vietnam era is not something to be celebrated. However, I think that this is an attempt on the part of the baby-boomers and the generations afterward to sort of recoup their losses, regain some national pride, and completely re-write history to recast Vietnam as a huge sacrifice on our part in the attempt to do something right, and even when we lose and an entire generation of veterans are fucked up afterward, it just shows how strong and herioc we are. We could put up with "the horror... the horror", to quote one example of rascist war-mongering propoganda that is often mistook as an "anti-war" statement. The kind of blatant dismissal of the pain that others have suffered and endured as a result of our foreign policy is incredible. It boggles the mind.

My criminal law class just finished. I spoke up today on behalf of all us addicts out there, and lots of people have come up to me to tell me that they supported me. I advocated a position that was a little more absolute than I might even agree with, but it seemed like it needed to be done to counterbalance all the personal responsibility shit motherfuckers were spitting. If you are an addict or have really known one, you know that shit is powerful. Its not a choice anymore. But most people learn that the hard way, and I think I can say with great confidence that most law students are not addicts. Not like me. They don't know what its like to crave a drink, to sweat after you quit cocaine, to imagine the powder running down your throat, to relive the feeling of your heart pounding so gloriously fast and hard. It's not easy to resist, and I wasn't even all that into it. There are people who are much worse than I ever was. The great irony is I am sitting here talking about addiction in class while I am recovering from last night's bout of irresponsible fun. I couldn't even think of my words my head is so clouded.

Today is not shaping up to be so good. I feel a depression settling in. What can be done?

I tell you what...

I've never been a blogger, a "live-journalist", a "my spacer", a whatever the hell else... I dont even use IM. I don't know how this will go or what I will say. In general, I am a sarcastic, cynical, bitter, aged beyond my years (its not the age; its the milage...) law student, and I have lots of nasty things to say and no one to listen. So... ta-da. I created this thing to act as a depository of all those cut-downs, quips, and mean observations that I store up all day long. You never know... maybe I'll be able to put them all together and come up with a sitcom about me and my three closest whiny, loser friends. First, I will have to get some loser friends. The sitcom would be boring if it was just me sitting in a coffee shop (a diner, people... I am not hip enough to hang out in coffee "houses"...) making fun of people as they walk by. Or I could sell the whole thing to Sarah Silverman and she could do something with it.

That's enough. I should listen to my con law professor, if for no other reason than he is also sarcastic and cynical and makes fun of us at every turn. Plus, he is super freakin hot and I want to make his knees buckle with my tongue. Did I say that outloud? God, fucking law school (in the figurative use of the phrase) would be easier if we could drink in class...

Oh wow... the hotass just said we don't want to be caught with our pants down in tomorrow's class (he was warning us to do the readings). Oh I could do so fucking much with that comment. Jesus Mary and Joseph... it would be fun to play a game of catch each other with our pants down with this guy.