San Diego 120

Being one with Saturday night i'm incredibly disappointed that nothing is going on tonight. Not that i've turned in to some sort of raging party machine. Fueling the machine through constant backyard blizzards is my greatest nightmare. At this point though I am just looking to make up for the amount of parties I missed in High School.

Speaking of High School the only thing I want to do now is wait for the coming rain and smoke a cigarette in it. Only thing is I don't smoke. I smoke sometimes but only under the condition that i'm very miserable and that a cigarette wouldn't make me feel better, but just help me bask in the misery. In my head it looks like something iconic. Completely cut off from the reality that I look like a douche bag smoking in the rain at two in the morning. Then again when did I ever care what I look like. (Insert Everybody Loves Raymond audience laughter here)

Inspiration is coming in sporadic orgasms so if this post seems choppy and incoherent that is my defense.

It would be far too cliche' to write about my buddies little shin dig in San Diego last night but I have to acknowledge it just because it was fun. I had a good time. Met some bizzarre people a.k.a. person. High fived my roommate as he hung out his truck and died.

These disconjointed thoughts are being driven by this amazing album. Scanners is the band. Violence is Golden is the Album. So now I have to thank Monica because if it wasn't for stalking her though myspace I would have never heard the best song on the CD. "Lowlife" is that type of song that you hear then shortly follow with a "Woah". After that all you can think of is having this be your anthem for the season. Driving I can hear it. Talking to girls I can hear it. Heating Black Tar heroin I can hear it playing in the background.

No wonder i'm so bored now. It's Sunday. OH SHI-- Super Bowl

I've never cared less for a football game. Even though the two teams have fascinating back stories it just feels bleh. It feels like the Raiders are playing the Jaguars or something. One team I hate with a passion while the other I DGAF* to the max.

All I want is to sleep in a dorm at CSUN once more and Diary of a Rock Star by Ian Hunter from Mott The Hoople. There's a little story in there where Ian Hunter goes with Keith Moon to visit Frank Zappa. I love that sheet.

*DGAF - Ultimate bro term for Dont give a fuck. Usually used in the sense of not giving a fuck.