The Idle Age

Just now, I selected an entire paragraph and deleted it because I thought it didn't sound like me. After sitting through years of high school and college writing classes, and being taught the bullshit structure and organization that was all but abandoned with the post-modern era, its hard to just sit down and write whats on my mind. I can do it in conversation, I can even do it in IMs, so why is it so hard to make a fucking blog post that has my flare and personality in it? People tell me some of my posts are funny and thats nice, but if you kids had any idea what actually went on inside my head you'd be pissing your pants like a 3 year-old baby who's crack whore mom let her suck on the nipple a little to long. I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but fuck it, I'm done making sense and I'm done sucking on the saggy nipples of outdated writing techniques fed to me by old fashioned professors who are too out of touch with 2007 to know that writing with style does not necessarily mean writing like its 1906. I just pictured one of my professors thrusting her nipple in my face. I'd slit my wrists if I wasn't so curious about what life has in store for me.

I was originally going to write about About a Boy which I saw last night. If you don't know by now, I live for quotes. They permeate my away messages, my Facebook status, my conversations, and my writing. But much like my writing style, I generally care as much about old outdated and over-cliched quotes as that same crack whore of a mother cares what will happen when her baby grows up and finds this article about how her mommy did lines of coke off her 18-week-old stomach while giving a trick head. Then again, who knows, maybe snorting coke off babies will be the next big thing, sort of like eating sushi off naked women. Why not? But back on the topic of quotes, what I'm interested in is the new stuff. The kind of stuff you pause Entourage or Californication for, just to make sure you write down the line. By the way, if you haven't already seen every episode of both shows, close this window, your banned from this blog, and I hope you have to watch your daughter do crack off an aborted fetus at the age of 13. Dark humor and vulgarity makes for good television, and for even better quotes. Its the wittiness, the truthfulness, and the cynicism that attracts me. (I just spent a good 2 minutes looking for the proper spelling of Cynicism. Though you should know) Take this line from About a Boy, said by Will when he's asked to be the Godfather of a soon to be born baby girl: "I'd be the worst possible Godfather. I'd probably drop her on her head at her christening. I'd forget all her birthdays until she was 18. Then I'd take her out and get her drunk. And, let's face it, quite possibly try and shag her." Granted this line is not characteristic of the movie any more then Britney's current public image is characteristic of her first album, but its still just too good to pass up.

The thing with interpreting quotes from British movies like About a Boy is that sometimes the accent throws you off. (For the record, British accents on girls = SEX, British accents on guys = long hot pink hooker nails on a chalkboard in a classroom they'll never be in unless its a schoolgirl/teacher porn shoot) Watching About a Boy, I became hooked on a monologue about what I thought was "the idle age". It turned out to be "the island age" which for all intents and purposes is essentially the same, but I like my idea better. (This was my first time using the phrase "intents and purposes" since I learned 3 weeks ago that it is not "intensive purposes"; the education of American kids really is going downhill, much like the stock market which plummeted again today. But thats for another post) I immediately began to think about the idea of an "idle age". It seems to me that for the moment, things are just... well... idle. I don't have too many complaints about life, but there's nothing supper exciting happening like there used to be. Every day was once an adventure, now its an attempt to create or grasp at adventure. Not that I'm complaining, I much rather be content then miserable, but some excitement would be nice. A Kylie in the backseat of my Accord at 4am with the alarm accidentally going off and old people waking up perhaps, or stealing an Esther to run away upstate with, or maybe even a trip to Kiev. It seems as if the smallest things bought so much excitement in the past, and now everything has either mellowed out, or I've just become jaded. Regardless, all that means is that we have to do things harder, faster, and stronger then ever before.

So my birthday is in exactly a week. Monday, December 3rd. I used to know exactly what I wanted for months in advance and have lists ready and memorized. These days its not so easy. I have everything I've always wanted as a child and just about everything I need now. In fact, I was just talking to Mia the other day about how we both enjoy chilling with spoiled kids who have more then we do, and I realized that I now have more then the kids I thought were spoiled back then ever had. Of course there's always room for more, but all I'm saying is that I'm content.

But that didn't stop me from making a wish list anyways. Why would it? I like stuff. Stuff is nice. Buy me stuff. Make sure you sort it by Priority, and I'll give a detailed description of what I want most in tomorrow's post.


Holy fuck its pouring out there right now. The rain is smashing against my skylight like I wish you were smashing against a 150 mph bullet train. What I'm trying to say is: but me a birthday gift of kill yourself. Put a link to the blog in the suicide letter.

Sweet dreams kids