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Quiet Revolution

Why can’t people just shutthefuckup once in awhile? Everyone’s on their cell phones on the bus, yelling into the receiver as if we all want to hear about how their boyfriend is ‘triflin,” or they’re on it in the fucking grocery store, talking to their bougie, castrated husband about what kind of English muffins he wants.

In the staff meeting for the school paper I work for, people kept talking while the editor was trying to talk. Just carrying on their own goddamn conversations. Hello? Are we in the third grade? Have we not figured out that meetings, while boring and tedious, go a lot faster when everyone focuses and speaks one at a time?

The worst, though, is the library. I can no longer study in the FREAKING LIBRARY.

I thought I could at least count on getting some peace in the library, but apparently not. I’m in favor of bringing back the old-fashioned, elderly, cranky librarian who shushed people all the time, because the tattooed twentysomethings currently employed by my school library aren’t cutting it.

Also, Ossie Davis totally should have won for best guest actor in a drama on the Emmys. Boo.



I am obsessed with the E reality show “The Girls Next Door.” It is strangely mesmerizing, in large part because the people filming/editing the show have a great sense of humor. It’s this strange combination of advertisement and spoof of the Playboy brand/mansion/etc.

I would like a stable of blonde women and a mansion when I grow up. And a large collection of silk pajamas.

So far all I’ve got is a pair of cotton boxers from the Gap and a girlfriend with purple hair.





I am the evil love nurse and I love to party. I love to party all the time, party all the time. Party all the time.


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