You Should Not Read Your Angsty Old Journals, But I Did
I have been carting two (not completely finished) old journals around with me for almost 20 years now. One is from college and one is from my early twenties. I have been absolutely dreading opening them, and for good reason. I started with the latter. If you want to take yourself on a vomit-inducing cringe fest, revisiting your 20-something self is a good way to do that. I thought that maybe, before I burn this embarrassing bullshit into the depths of hell where it belongs, I would read it first so I could share a handful of the funnier quips. They're all totally out of context, so you can interpret them any way you wish.
Also, the first page of this journal is just me trying to see if I could list all 50 states from west to east for some reason. I have utterly no idea why other than the fact that I just really like to make lists. That game Scattergories? MY FREAKIN JAM.
Who’s going to let someone named Danger run a Fortune 500 company?
She’s letting her high school art class name her second baby. He’s going to end up being named Peacock Tank or something equally as ridiculous.
I heard on the radio that a 13 year old girl won the “World Text Messaging” competition by typing supercalifragilisticexpialidocious in 15 seconds. For this oh-so-admirable skill she won $25,000. That’s supercalifragi-ridiculous. Are there spectators at this event? Who contributes the prize money? Is this a potential career now? This world is so weird. ‘Peacock Tank, professional text messager. That makes me want to throw myself out a window. But just a first floor one.
My room is a disaster…as is my car…as is my life.
You know what I'm sick of? Advice cookies. If I want a fortune cookie, I want a fortune inside. This is what my cookie said, "Do not burden yourself with trivial matters." I don't need advice from shitty baked goods. Ohhh...I have another uneaten fortune cookie in my purse. Is it a fortune cookie or an advice cookie? Let's find out! "Every person is the creation of his own thinking and believing." An INSPIRATIONAL MESSAGE COOKIE? Shit.
Jimmy got Brian to do a cartwheel across the office. That turned into handstands and later an arm wrestling match. I work with a bunch of circus animals.
Her number of sexual partners is becoming increasingly concerning.
Eric and Esteban were sitting outside the office building doing their 5 o’clock ogling of the girls. They like it when I sit with them because they think it makes them look less creepy.
She can do so much better. He never finished college even though he was there forever. He picks corn in Oklahoma or some shit.
Can I stash a bottle of rum in my carry-on? I’ll need to google that.
He smokes, which I like from the standpoint of his not bitching about my doing it.
I’m pretty sure the guy I went out with on Sunday was a cokehead. He was real twitchy the whole time.
I went there thinking it was going to be a party at someone’s house. As did the people who invited me. When I got there, this guy handed me a map. Bad sign.
I don’t understand why they call it the “Real Housewives” considering they are neither real nor housewives.
Watching Paul F. Thompkins’ stand up comedy is not helping the time go by any faster.
I would sell my soul for a Cheesy Gordita Crunch right now. (RIP Cheesy Gordita Crunch)
I would murder babies for some spicy garlic boneless wings right now.
