Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Why I am a Bastard

  • I openly laughed at the fact that someone decided to heartfelty mourn the loss of their beloved pet and show it publicly with flowers.
  • I laughed (unknowingly) at the fact that Lance Armstrong had testicular cancer that spread to his lungs and brain and then went on to win the Tour de France (nicknamed by some the "Tour de Lance") seven times. Bah, this one needs explaining.
    • It was that bit in Dodgeball where Vince Vaughn is sitting in a bar drinking when he should be playing and Lance Armstrong comes and gives him the speech about what happened to him. I just thought it was so improbably tragic that I just had to laugh, like it was so bad it could never actually happen to a person. I'm sorry. I realise far worse does happen on a daily basis too. But I've gotta just keep laughing, y'know?
  • The fact that I'm snide, sarcastic and belittling to everyone I talk to, including my friends (who somehow still like me).
  • I hate most people. Infact, I doubt I would much mind killing most people.
  • I wouldn't mind killing most people.
  • I never really do anything for people (I think).
  • I can't remember a damn thing past what happened this morning. This usually includes birthdays.
  • The list goes on and on! I'm too tired and bastardly to keep writing!

I'll update the bastard list as time goes by, I suppose. Right now, however, I'm going to do something horribly self indulgent: situps.

Serious. Fucking. Business.

1 comment:

Rogue said...


Joe Joe Joe.

I think you've missed something here.
Friends love each other despite their faults. I mean, look at me - neurotic, androphobic serial facadical (made up word) user, general all-round bitch, memory worse than a goldfish.. but the people who love me can see past that. Heck, for some of them, it's incentive.
You might be a bastard, Joseph Beaver, but I for one wouldn't have you any other way.