Serious Problem.

You guys. Long story short: I got too high testing the potency of pot cookies that I made. I thought it had been longer than it had. I ate more thinking enough time had passed for them to kick in. It hadn't.

Anyway, I decided to download Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe." I don't know what I was thinking. No. That's not true. I wasn't thinking.

But it doesn't matter why it happened. It only matters that it happened. Because, Internet, I played that song. And now the song is playing on my computer.

It just keeps playing. And playing. And playing. AND PLAYING.

The problem is that my computer has the song on loop. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However, right now I am just a little bit too high and can't remember how to stop songs from repeating or stop them from playing in general.

I feel like maybe this is a sign from God that maybe pot cookies are a mistake.

I really want a grilled cheese sandwich. 

Sometimes I am like the Hulk, only less green and more rage-filled

"I'm 25 now, I need to get a fucking dog. I need something real to tether me down," the girl beside me said as I waited for my drink at Starbucks.

I stood there, sweat elegantly dripping down my back, listening to her say one ridiculous thing after another.

"Yeah, I could go to school and become a physiotherapist, but then I'd have to give up the house. I mean, being a physiotherapist is a great paying job, but the house is a real asset."

I am on this kick where I am trying not to judge people, but, dear god, I judged this girl so hard. Not being a judgmental asshole is nearly impossible for me when I have PMS. It is also nearly impossible for me the week that I have DMS. And Post-MS.

Really, there is only about a week each month where I am not a total jerk.

Which I guess it could....

I woke up at 3 am with an inexplicable fear of zombies and a need to pee.

I am not sure why I was worried about zombies, but, while on the toilet, I genuinely put some thought into what I would do if zombies ever came to attack me in my apartment.

"I think I am pretty much screwed," I said to dog. "Would you try to eat the zombies?" I asked him.

He did not answer me, as (despite getting along in years) he has still not mastered the English language.

"I only really have knives to defend myself with, and I would have to get far too close to the zombies in order to even use those in the first place. I think I would likely just end up being killed by the zombies. Do you think it would be fast at least?"

Again, dog failed to answer my question with any clarity - unless proceeding to lick one's rectum can be considered a definitive answer. 

Save(d) as Draft(s)

The following are posts that I began writing and then never finished. This is not the first time I have done this.

Unrealistic goals I want to achieve before I die:

Water ski with a monkey or chimpanzee - This is unrealistic for several reasons, the most obvious being that I do not know how to water ski.

Wrestle an elephant - Okay, this could probably happen, but I am pretty sure that it would lead to my death. This is okay though as I already have my obituary written out and it lists my cause of death as elephant wrestling anyway.

- Written on 5/10/12

I'm not NOT high...

I am twenty-seven. I am mostly single. I am mostly un-tied down. I am mostly exactly where I want to be in life.

I am not sure where I am going with this. To be honest with you, Internet, I just took a huge bong hit. It is probably only a matter of minutes before I am "playing-bongos-naked-in-my-living-room" high.

I forgot that I was writing this. I started watching videos of the original broadway cast of Les Miserable performing.

I feel like my stomach is going to growl and that, when it does, I really need to eat nachos with cheese.

Mmmm, spaghetti.

- Written on 3/25/12

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I used to keep old papers so that I could read back over them and laugh at some of the points I made, the silly spelling mistakes I had or how I'd managed to pull off the mark I did without ever having actually read the work I was talking about.

Yesterday, while decluttering my apartment (read: finally actually finishing unpacking), I looked over some of my old papers. Do you know what I found out, Internet? I was a pompous ass. Oh, god... what a dick I was.

- Written on 6/26/11

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If beans are truly the magical fruit, then I am a magician extraordinaire. That is not to say that I am a master of beans, but....

- Written on 6/11/11

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"The key to being funny," I told him, "is not actually trying to make others laugh."

The look of confusion that graced his face told me that he did not understand what I meant. Also, his words did when he said to me, "I don't know what you mean." 

"My main goal in life is to entertain myself, not you. When someone else laughs at something I have said, I consider it to be an added bonus. But my primary goal is to make myself giggle."

- Written on 5/21/11

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In case I have never told you this before, I have had the long standing dream of becoming a professional cotton candy maker. Truth be told, I am not sure that anyone actually does this as a full-time job, but I feel like it is time that this changed.

- Written on 5/19/11