Tuesday, 11/13/01 - 5:10 p.m..
People are stupid. Teenagers are stupid.
I was watching this music video today...I believe the name of the group is Sum 41 or something. I didn't pay attention to the lyrics, I don't even know the name of the song but the chorus has the word society. Let me guess...those kids want to be rebels. It's the same old teenager...doing "crazy stuff" (to say the least) to look "kewl", dude. God, I'm ashamed of my generation.
Someone could tell me: you'd be ashamed of your generation even if it was the 70s', so stop bitching. You just wouldn't fit in any kind of generation. May be. But at least the hippies were fighting for something intelligent. The biggest goal of many people from this generation is to become the next Jhonny Knoxville. Heck, well, they are already, so they don't have any goals left but to "have some fun, dude".
Speaking of jackass...the guy called. His other head called, actually. Man, I want to have sex, he said. How sweet of him to think of me. But...I'm assertive and I'm not selling myself out again. "Yay", I thought. So we didn't do any-fuckin'-thing. He got a job....my God, he's gonna be a gardener. It sounds funny. In fact, it cracked me up. But not when I was on the phone with him. I congratulated him. Is not bad...about fifty bucks (divide by 8.75 and you get the amount in dollars), for 30 days (I mean 50 everyday). Sounds good. Now he'll be able to maintain his 3 children. Just kidding, as far as I know, he doesn't have any...for now. Although I didn't buy that, he sounded serious when he told me that. Anyway, his other head gave him an idea....why not coming to visit me next wednesday? No fuckin' way because:
a) it's too risky
b) no fuckin' way.
I'm not having sex with him. Who the fuck does he think he is? I mean, I fuckin' love him but no fuckin' way I'm fuckin' with him. Ok, enough of this fuckin' subject. He's not fuckin' coming anyway.
But as a matter of fact, he wanting to come to my house just to do that is hillarious. I mean, how can he be so focused on doing such thing with me? Although it is a bit sad that he called me just because his friend was in a standing position. Anyway, I dare to say that I'm over him (yeah, he wishes I was all over him). As soon as he doesn't stop considering me his friend, I don't care whatever he does or says. If he wants to do it again with his mexican friend, then he can be my guest.
Oh, yes...his mexican friend. It's a good thing he told me about her now that I'm over him. We had our close encounter in july. In august he went to Mexico. And...that was his last sexual experience (no, he and I didn't have a "sexual experience". I know when to say NO). He just follows his little friend instead of his feelings or his thoughts. He's not that bad though, he's got his smart side....I don't know why suddenly I'm talking this way about him.
Because it's the truth.
Ummm...yeah.
He's a nice kid. But he tends to use girls just to get a temporary "happiness". I wonder if he's realized that the girls he gets are using him as well. I guess he has. I guess he doesn't care. I've learned that having sex just because is the modern way to exchange greetings between two complete strangers. Even the TV shows it all the time. And hey, TV does teach you one or two true things once in a while.
I learned half of the countries of the world and their capitals thanks to Jacko Warner.
Sometimes I'm scared that he'd fall in love with me. I love him, yes. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I'm confused about this. I love him, I want him to love me back but I don't want him to love me back. Maybe because I don't know him quite well...maybe because I know too much about him...but just one side of his.... eh, screw this paragragh. He won't ever love me, anyway. I mean, I'm pretty, yes. I'm not the stupid girl from 3rd grade, with brakes and the Pipi Longstocking hair-do. I am pretty. I've been told so. I'm not a Liv Tyler but still....wait, where was I? Yes, the looks. This shows how really the looks don't matter. I guess it's a chemistry thing, after all. I don't know. I really don't care right now about all the shit I've been mentioning in this entry. Well, not that I don't care but...heck, you get the idea.
I made a face. I saw the cover of People Magazine and thought I'd give it a shot. This face has Joey Mc-whatever-his-last-name-is-spelled's hair, Tom Cruise's eyes, Ben Affleck's mouth, and the forehead and nose of Matt Damon. Is that your perfect man?, people kept asking me. Heck, no. I just wanted to feel a bit as if I was in The Truman Show. Really. Well, that mix of guys does look really nice. But is not necessarily the look of my "perfect man". I don't have a "perfect man". Men are not perfect. Yet they're one of the most beautiful creations of God....when they're thinking in the right moment with the right head.
Well, apparently, Aerosmith rocked the Madison Square Garden last night. I missed it. Again. Why-the-fuck-will-I-never-ever-see-them-live? O, don't give me that "that's what's meant to be" line. Fuck, that's the lamest excuse someone could ever give me.
Ok, the happy hour is over. My most entertaining time of the day has finished. The gig is up. Being on vacation can be such a drag. Not that I get totally bored but nothing interesting happens either. Unless you'd count that my mattress had a hole right in the middle and I woke up with pain in my column. I removed the mattress and left only one (my bed has -used to have- two mattresses, for several reasons). Now mommy is buying three mattresses for the three of her little angels (since Alan, Carlos and I -the ones that have yet to fly away from the nest- are in the same painful situation). I want to sleep on the floor though. Other than that, no big deal. I stay home and do some shit around.
I'm on the MSN messenger right now and Cory just signed in. And I'm...set to appear offline. I love my life.
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