Got my LSAT score back yesterday…

Yeah, it’s that bad.

I wrote the following at 2 am, while exhausted and running only the energy provided by a caffeine pill and a blended mocha. But I am extremely impressed by my own skills when I’m under the influence so I thought I’d post it up…it is even more important that I update it with something since I’ve been lagging for the past 2 days. Whoops!

Look at me not as someone who talks a lot of smack on others, but rather as someone who just says what everyone else is thinking.

I despise coffee house music. It’s usually that weird, new-age stuff by some unknown hippie-artist that no one would know about had it not been for the existence of Starbucks. The words are always something stupid like, “I eat feet for breakfast…feel my art breathe life through your trachea.” And this is supposed to give us added culture as we sip our $10 lattes. You know what I think it is? A conspiracy. The music probably has some sort of subliminal message in it that drags us close enough to insanity where it’s okay to spend your life savings on a cup of coffee. So instead of “I eat feet” it’s more like “GIVE ME YOUR MONEY OR GO TO HELL!”

Girls who laugh really loud for attention should consider something: no one who can hear you laugh knows what you’re laughing about, so all they’re going to do when they hear your guffaw is wish you were dead. That or mute, if they’re having a good day. But if it’s me, then I’ll usually wish mortal wounds of the cross-bow kind. And that is on a good day.

Given my love for food, I’ve decided to be a free-lance food critic. However, because the goal of all food critics would be to advise restaurant-goers on where the good food is, I fear that I would be unable to fulfill this task. Rather than let everyone know where the best places to eat are—thereby increasing the traffic and making the wait for a table longer than I am willing to stand for—I would instead tell them to eat at places where the food is comparable to human toilet waste. That way I could continue eating where I want to eat without waiting in line, and suffering restaurants would remain in business. The best part is that because I’m a food critic, my identity would remain hidden so no one would be able to pinpoint the blame on me when they get food poisoning.

The problem with being extremely tired and functioning only because of a caffeine pill and a blended mocha is that you become really smart, but hate everything that comes out of your head. I’m sitting here, looking over my case study and Xanga notes, and thinking that my writing is way better than it is when I’m coherent—but I hate it. I hate the sentence structure, the grammar usage, and the fact that what I’m typing is not linking together the actual thoughts in my head. It’s just drivel…but it’s also some of the best drivel I have ever produced in a long time. What is the point of this paragraph anyway? I could use some fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

Lactose intolerants should sue the dairy farmers for false advertising in their “milk does a body good” campaign.

Possible Halloween Costumes

This last one has to be my favorite…just because of the hair.

Procrastination can only go so far, my friends, before you realize there’s just no point in sitting at your computer in an attempt to type up a small case study for class. I’d rather be asleep, but the guilt eats me alive. So here I am…

Not a lot of things to mention. I had a great entry planned for you all—a real throw-back to my past writings—but it requires pictures with Paint and I’m just not into the intricate art work right now! Plus the readership is dwindling…come on, people! Where are my faithful browsers? You know I write this for you! All for you! Where would your procrastination goals be without me to help you along the way?!?

I have become abnormally obsessed with the human gut recently. Recall my past entry where I posted three different pictures of bulging bellies—they are all based on actual guts I have seen with my own eyes (which have subsequently become irreversably damaged). There is a lot to be said about a girl who bares who big belly without a care: (1) she is comfortable with her body, or (2) she is dillusional. I am not one to judge, having had a bulging belly myself, but ever since I am very careful to make sure I cover it up when i need to.

My morning process goes like this: When I wake up, before I’ve eaten anything, I put my hands on my hips to see how my hands fit around my waist. After that, I proceed to view my stomach in six different angles: front, side, and back, both sucked in and not. With these varying perspectives I can gauge how much my body has changed relative to the large meals I have eaten the night before. I continue viewing my stomach throughout the day, whenever I have the chance to: i.e. bathroom breaks or reflections in windows. When my shirt happens to roll up or my jeans roll down, I pull them back into place so I am not overly-exposed. Thus my belly is kept underwraps and any possible flab is hidden from public view. It is a lengthy and time-consuming process (sometimes depressing if I have gained a little here and there), but I can feel better knowing that the public is not at risk of viewing my ugly belly if it is there.

I am not going to judge people, but I am going to voice my opinions on this because I live in America and can say whatever I want to say, on a Xanga that I created and paid for. If you are looking for a tube top in a size XXL, you shouldn’t be wearing it. Tall people can pull it off, but girls with big bellies in general cannot and should not bare their bodies. It is a fact that we are a superficial culture, and we are all judged based on our outer appearances. Yes, you may have a great personality, and yes, beauty is on the inside. But considering the fact that there is a 99.99999999999% chance that I will not get to know this internal beauty of yours, I would have to rely on what my eyes tell me than what you do. Sorry, but I’m not alone on this one. Blind people exempt, we all think the same way.

The worst ones are those girls who were skinny before, then got fat right after—but still try to fit in their skinny clothes rather than admit to themselves that they need larger outfits. I see a bunch of them on the Row: those sorority girls who pledged skinny, then crossed and got all fat right after. What is this bane of crossing into an organizition that makes people balloon? Admit it to yourself if you know it’s happened to you, because I’m not saying anything that isn’t based on actual people. Crossing = fat attack. Fat attack = bigger clothes. Fat attack also = bigger gut. Bigger gut = cover it up.

Until this attachment to looking at exposed fat guts dissipates, I will be keeping my eyes towards the ground in an effort to alleviate some of my disdain and judgementality.

Yes I saw Kill Bill last night…and yes, the rumors are true: it is a terrific movie! Oh the gore! The chopped off limbs! Hail the wickedly smart dialogue, and wonderfully crafted martial arts! Applaud Quentin Tarantino for his fourth film, and all its “#1 movie at the box office” glory!

More soon!

 More Peanut Pictures

Peanut, napping!

Peanut in my pocket!

So I thought I’d write something on the Shower Habits of Mainlanders, because prior to my coming to college I had no idea that people showered at times other than the evening. To me it was natural and the most sanitary to shower at night before I go to bed. However, apparently not everyone shares my opinions on what’s good hygiene, hence why I thought I would mention this in passing and see what you all think.

My first roommate in my freshman year once asked me, “You like to shower at night, huh?” The way she said it was more like, “It’s so weird you shower at night,” which kind of surprised me because I thought it was abnormal that she only showered in the day. Later on, I met a guy who said that evening showers were a “Hawaii thing.” He preferred showering only in the day because he said that during sleep the body tends to excrete oils that are dirtier to sit in compared to sleeping in the filth accumulated on your body during the day. Another person said he only showered in the morning to get rid of bed-head and help him wake up.

These are the worst excuses I have ever heard. It just sounds like a bunch of drivel people use in an effort to cover up their bad hygiene. It’s one thing to shower in the morning to wake up because I do it to, but at least I shower again at night to get rid of all the dirt and oils that will naturally form on your body if you’ve been active all day. It doesn’t matter if you’ve spent the entire day in an air conditioned classroom, or if you did menial tasks that didn’t necessarily cause sweat. You will have dirt in your skin, either from the natural environment or from other sources, and you will have oils in your pores. Germs will also be multiplying in various areas, especially your—shall we say–BUTTOCKS!

I don’t see how people can sleep in their own filth the way they do. Having taked to my sister today she also has a problem with people who constantly ask her WHY SHE SHOWERS AT NIGHT! The answer is simple: not sleeping in your own body waste! Your bed sheets are tainted with nasty germs and dirt that will bombard your skin every time you lie in your bed. It’s like a pool of bacteria and illness. Must scrub clean…must scrub clean…

Just because you don’t notice that it’s there, it doesn’t mean that it’s not there!!!

Why I Love Golden Retrievers

Awww!!! Such a cutie!!!