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Wants and Needs or The Meaning of Christmas
You know, the holiday season is one of the few times of year during which I feel content to be alive. While all the other "adults" I know are stressing themselves over family gatherings and gift shopping, I find myself unbelievably tranquil. Why? Because I'm a penniless student, and therefore no one expects anything of me. In fact, they feel obligated to ply me with charity. Bwahaha!
What? Shouldn't my presence be gift enough?
However, charity is not without its shortcomings. Usually the benefactor just goes out and buys me whatever they think I need (say, psychiatric care - I'm not making this up) and not what I really WANT (say, whiskey, or a new corset). Fools.
So I've come up with a fantasy wish list, primarily for my own amusement, but also with the faint hope that my desires will therefore worm their way into the collective unconscious - and later, perhaps, my possesion.
1. Nihilist gum. This item is self-explanitory. And lord knows I love little more than wearing misanthropy on my goddamned sleeve. Or shoe. Or wine glass, or wherever the wad winds up when I've tired of it.
2. Huge angel wings. Why? Because they're just too fucking cool. I'd never really have a place to wear them (except maybe the Ren Faire), not to mention the fact that they're almost as tall as I am, but damn they'd make for some grand entrances. And no, I don't want them in black, smartass. I want them in white.
3. Liquid latex.I've never actually worn the stuff, but I'd sure as hell like to try it out. And then go clubbing. Brings a new meaning to the phrase "barely legal."
4. A hood piercing. Because if people won't respect me for my intellect, at least they'll be able to respect my tolerance for clitoral discomfort.
5. A Jennings gag. You can't have a proper medical fetish set up with out at least one scary method of prying someone's mouth open, and keeping it that way.
6. Medical leg braces. See number five, and take it from there.
That's all I can really bare to come up with right now without getting depressed over my lack of affluence. I need a distraction. Thank god for adult swim.
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Every day, I find another reason to move to Europe.
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Urine Luck or I'll Take My Chances With Oil Of Olay
A friend of mine recently divulged the dirty secret behind her excellent complection. You'll never guess what it is. Her own pee pee! I'm not kidding. And she absolutely swears by it.
Apparently, she picked up the trick from her granny, who (so I hear) has nary a wrinkle. (Whether or not that's because the old bat's extended stay at the state mental facility kept her from the light of day for 4 decades, I couldn't tell you. It's all speculation on my part.) Just pee in a cup, grab a cotton ball, and smear it on. But don't wash it off afterwards - just a brief rinse with water will do. It'll clear your acne, open your pores, and soften the skin.
I'm vain, but I'm not sure if I'm THAT vain.
This isn't the first time I've heard about the miraculous properties of urine. Apparently it cures cancer. My god, think of all the research dollars poured down the drain. Who would have known that consuming nothing but your own wastewater for forty days was the answer! Here's wikipedia's take: Urotherapy. Pretty cool quackery. Makes me wonder how desperate you have to be to drink your own piss.
If that's not your bag, mankind has found many uses for urine beyond the medicinal. Rotten.com provides a comprehensive list. Thrilling.
That's all for now. I gotta take a leak.
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I can't do this anymore. I can't do anything anymore.
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