Webster's English dictionary defines 'tequila' as 'An alcoholic liquor distilled from the fermented juice of the Central American century plant Agave tequilana.' I think that's just great. Although it should be noted that the secondary definition, not listed in the dictionary is as follows 'the urine of Satan, Prince of Darkness'. The question is asked: Why in Heaven's name would anyone drink the urine of the Lord of Flies himself? In my case, because I am an idiot. And a slow learner too. Either way, I won't be sucking Satan's pissknob again for a while. I mentioned this to Kady who said it was my Birthday and I had the right. But then I thought about that and came to the conclusion that a party should not be a reason to drink. Honestly, I don’t think there is a good reason, except maybe if you lost a bet and had to have sloppy sex with a really ugly chick. But I have never lost or even made a bet with that shuddering fate as the stakes, nor do I plan to. Anyway, my point, which I'm just going to jump to, is that I don't think people should have excuses for doing stuff at parties. To need an excuse means you did something you are ashamed of and need to make up for. I think regret is a shitty thing. Whatever, we should start celebrating stuff like Tuesday, Wednesday, the first week of April and shit like that. Life needs to have more parties and less regrets, and no tequila. Because Satan's wastes should be flushed down the toilet, not consumed by me.
On a more something topic, my Birthday was made magical by some great people who are really the only ones who read this journal. The pictures are excellent and I believe the more indecipherable ones should be posted and have essays written about them. That's always fun. I'm rambling. I'm distracted. I'm tall. Jade just updated her journal with a bunch of really nice stuff about things we've done, objects we've destroyed, Gun Shows we've bought tickets for, etc. Remembering is wonderful. I hope to put up my top 20 albums some time soon. I have to leave for work in twenty minutes. I talked about dragons today. I reminded Kady to bring Playstation 2 controllers and cookies home. Dee Aponte is avoiding me. $86.00 is Dee's Ignorance Tax. I have to pay for the fact that she's an idiot. Whatever. My neck hurts less and the absence of pain is amazing but it's not all gone so it's not totally amazing, like the Space Ghost DVD, I need to finish watching that. I have to show that one to Christina. We're glad glad glad glad that you're a glide. I should eat some thing. Peanut butter jelly time. I hope the snow kills my boss and all my co-workers so I don’t have to. Being frozen is much easier to deny being a part of than chopping them all into small pieces and freezing them in my freezer. Maybe I'll have Eggo's.
15 minutes. Big smiles people, BIG SMILES. Huge bright blinding smiles. Then eat the shit of those more powerful than you, that’s right, KEEP SMILING, now say you like the taste, yes, you do, believe it, smile, chew, swallow, keep it down, smile, repeat. It's odd that smile and smell are so close. And did you know that the actual definition of "mortified" means to be in a state of decomposition brought on by death? Shit, all those haughty old British ladies were really dead. I can't be too surprised though, they probably have dust in their wrinkles.
12 minutes. Time speeds us as soon as your sophomore year of college begins. One time I took 16 Robotussin gel caps right before bed just to see what would happen. I woke with a stomach ache the next day. It's really cold and Dee is still avoiding me. 10 now. I should be getting my keyboard in March. Then I can write songs and put them on the Internet. I want the things I want to happen to happen faster. Now in fact. Nothing. You make a normal request and that powers that be shit silence on you. Well, fuck you powers that be, have some tequila.
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