OMFG R.E.M. broke up.

R.E.M. broke up!

Didn't they write that one song? I just found out, in the form of a joke about a guy losing his virginity, during a Conan O'Brien skit.

Anyways, I didn't have enough booze left to go to happy land. Just enough to make it to alright land.

Population: me and my annoying cats.

~Xavier R.

Drunken Hugs

I normally do not like hugging. However when I've been, well, you know. I tend to, well, you know. Then I feel gross. Not in the weird "eww, germs" sort of way, but a "hugging is for puppies and old ladies" sort of way. It's similar to the notion of crying being for little girls and drug addicts. You may know me, personally. You may think "I've seen you hug plenty of times!" Well, that would coincide with a rhetoric of me being drunk, plenty of times.

I have this special thing in my brain, called Notlikeeveryoneelseitis. The prescription from the huggle doctor was lots of hugs growing up, to prevent my Notlikeeveryoneelseitis from turning into sociopathy. Well, it is my staunch belief that I had an allergic reaction to the hugs, and I was stricken sociopathy anyways. Well, minus the occasional violence or people disregard. Maybe that's a whole other thing, then. You know what? Tits, lulz.Moving on.

A couple ughs

UGH #1 You know when you're overweight, and somehow your subconscience keeps constructing a universe around you that disallows change, or lets you be OK with your unhealthy self because it want's to keep you safe, seeing how change is dangerous, and happiness is key in connection with that? Take for example, starting to run again, then not being able to because of an ankle injury, which could heal if you didn't work on it 8-12 hours a day? Yeah, me either.

UGH #2 Hipsters. That use to be just a way to describe someone, but now its an entire thing. You know? Like, being mainstream is so lame. You know what else is mainstream? Breathing. So stop it, so us conformists can have it all to ourselves. Speaking of which, some months ago, I was at this music festival, and whilst in line for entrance, I overheard

"Yeah, but to truly be a hipster, you can't BE a hipster." In this retarded, foux upper class sort of snide accent. This was one of the very rare cases of me coming close to using violence against someone for not doing anything to me. *Glare sans ensuing strangulation*

Anyways, I'm not so good with goodbyes.

~Xavier R.

What's wrong with some color in your family tree...9-25-11

It's a fuck up world. Or, perhaps, the world isn't fucked up. Maybe we need to judge our levels of our social gauging. Calm down, everyone. All we want is peace and love, blah blah blah.

My Step Dad's girlfriend makes delicious biscuits. Not slang for vagina, I mean really. Delicious biscuits.

But yeah, the daily thing;











Do you see trees? I see them, too. Anyways, enjoy.

~Xavier R.