Sunday, October 10, 2004

Ambien Dreams and Stranger Things

So last Monday night I had a fever and I took some Nyquil and woke myself by screaming incoherently at a man named Brad who inexplicably had a jewfro and who wouldn’t stop asking me to be his friendster. I literally woke myself up by screaming “Jesus Fucking Christ, Brad, why won’t you leave me alone, why won’t you leave me the fuck alone?” And then I flung myself into pillows and wept, kicking and screaming and moaning, “Why, why, why won’t they all just leave me the fuck alone?” and then finally I fell back to sleep.

The Friendster thing – see, I’m a single girl in new york, and I’m always at least subconsciously looking for someone to have sex with, and so I feel like Friendster’s like this tuna-fishing boat, it’s just constantly trawling the seas of ny’ers and that’s why I have this photo up there where you can just barely see that I have absolutely disproportionately freakishly large nipples. But, you know, it’s not like I’m asking someone to come over and fuck me, it’s like I’m posting on Nerve or Craigslist – if we extend the ‘lots of fish in the sea metaphor,’ friendster is to trawling what Craiglist is to harpooning.

Friendster:Trawling :: Criagslist:Harpooning.

Josh pointed out:
Mary Kate:Ashley :: Barbara:Jenna
I think one can extend it to:
Mary Kate:Ashley :: Barbara:Jenna :: Ashlee:Jessica and perhaps even to Haylie:Hillary :: Nicky:Paris (if you want to break free from the confines of the twin paradigm, that is).

So, anyhoodles, this guy sent me a message using all the right jargon – deconstructive theory and appropriately hip indie music so I clicked on his photo and Friendster has these testimonial things where your friends can write about you, to tell the world how rad you are, and he has one testimonial, from this goth 16 year old, and it says “ {Name withheld} is a sweet man and a talented fencer. Ladies, Don’t let this one go by.” That’s all one can say about him, he doesn’t even merit a ‘great listener’ or ‘really unique’ or even a ‘he’s so awesome, once you get to know him’ … but only ‘he’s a talented fencer’ ?!?!? Interrobang!

Anyway. And then last night, I took some of this DXM stuff that my roommate bought so that we could trip out in Disneyworld – we didn’t actually take it, because we got some ‘shrooms so we did that instead, although we did spend a whole weekend trying to buy a chemist’s scale so that we could weigh out micrograms of research chemicals, but then we realized that doing unknown chemicals in Disneyworld might not be the best idea, especially because I am prone to vivid hallucinations and sometimes I laugh for hours on end.

Hallucinations, right – so I took this DXM stuff to help my coughcold and then I forgot that I took it and I took an Ambien because I couldn’t sleep and then I was im’ing with my friend Louis, bless his heart, and I totally tripped out and all of a sudden my keyboard was like in a cloud waterfall and I lost the ability to type and then suddenly my computer screen because a small village filled with peasants who trying to kill a terrible beast and I only I could save it, but the keyboard stopped being a keyboard and I think I wrote something like try to kill the beast, tiny ones, kill it dead, and then I think louis called because he was scared because I had typed “y y y y, we just need to burn her,” because I was trying to rally the wee ones and burn the evil bad womanvillain, and I tried to explain, but he probably thinks I’m a little woo woo woo.

Then someone from work sent an email about his approval manager and I misread it as approval manger and had this whole vision of little lord Jesus and a donkey and a sheep looking at all our expense reports.

On a different train of thought (All aboard, WOO WOO), I watched the 2nd prexy debate the other night and I really missed the little blinky boxes with the warning lights. I think those would be great if we had them all the time. Like in real life. Wouldn’t it be great if there were little light-up indicators when having sex? Especially with blowjobs? 2 more minutes, 30 seconds, 5 seconds. You’d be like, 5 seconds until he has an orgasm, and then you could conveniently move away before getting spattered. Speaking of orgasms – a friend of mine is taking Viagra and he told me he needs three pills just to get up in the morning.

Thank you, I’ll be here all week.

And speaking of the first prexy debate, just what was Bush scribbling?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Everyone is entitled to be stupid, but some abuse the privilege
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