GAH! STUPID PEOPLE RUINED ALL THE GOOD EFFECTS FROM MY PIE!

So we had pie at lunch today. [PIE!!! OMG OMG PIE!!!] It was the big DH "feast" thing... turkey, cranberry sauce, ham, jello, cornbread, blackeyed peas, etcetera, etcetera. They also had pie, both pumpkin and *gasp* pecan. Mmmm... So, in a post-pie glow, I went to my English Class of Stupidity... not that the class itself is stupid, but GAH! The PEOPLE! They make me want to gnash my teeth and rend my clothing and rip out huge chunks of my hair. Today we got to hear people "not understand" Jonathan Swift [that's okay, guys, he wouldn't understand you idiots either] and get all upset on how much he hates women and how gross his poetry is. And how he wants to kill babies. Ngeh. Then we got to listen to a treatise on how slaves were really happy to be enslaved. They loved all the toil and humiliating servitude! And don't forget those kind women of the house teaching their eager slave pupils the Bible! God loves you, Mr Slave, but he loves me more! And this person spouting this... insanely insipid remark was, herself, a history major. I weep for the future when people like her are in charge.

I dedicate this poem to the idiot in our English class, and to all those miserable wretches who had to listen to her.

"Intellectual Carnage"

You sit there smiling, smugly smirking,
Condescension evident in your eyes
Though no thoughts therein are lurking--
Idiot hid in Student’s guise.

You spout off all your facts quite neatly
[Though they’re really not quite true]
Our brains have now shut down completely
It’s better than endlessly listening to you.

Oh, God, let Time more swiftly travel
Let the Sun speed through the skies--
But you’re still speaking, our brains unravel
They can’t take much more of endless lies

You’re happy now, you think you’ve won--
We’re just too shocked to utter our wrath.
Your opinion expressed, your work is done,
Leaving intellectual carnage in your path.


That is all.

(no subject)

Wow. Guess I got shown.

I angst out a lot about stupid random stuff. Most of my journal is taken up with it. I just got back from painting people's nails in a nursing home. Most of them had no idea what was going on. If I ever complain about how sucky my life is, slap me. Please.

I think hell smells of disinfectant and dispair, of old people and young people who don't care for the places their charges have been, for what they've seen in their eighty-odd years, too old to hide the tears for what they once were, for a whole lifetime worth of memories-- sadness and mirth, laughter and birth, people whose bodies rot as their minds rot away, or, what is worse, their minds remain the same, but all around them there are changes from what they once knew, and there are so few of their old familiar friends to pass the time with...

Wheeeeee! Randomness, unfortunately....

Mmm... nothing beats going to Starbucks and having whatever it was that I had... some sort of minty thing.... mmmm, mint... Erin, Samantha and I looked at books, making fun of most [strategy guide to "Rock, Paper, Scissors?" You have got to be kidding me.] of the books we saw... being possibly followed by creepy in-store person-who-makes-sure-those-crazy-teens-don't-shoplift, looking at magazines for our shows, looking for Samantha's car in the parking lot for forever and then realizing it was right in front of us the whole time.... good times, good times.

The best part of having to take 1600 mg of Advil a day? I feel no pain. It is awesome. I only wish they had Advil for the pain of having to listen to stupid people. Gah. That "slaves had it good" comment makes my gorge rise. Mmm, gorge.

I could live on Goldfish. It is the food of the gods, I kid you not. The crackers, that is. The actual... fish don't really appeal to me. Just the crackers. Heh.