Adult...ish
Contain yourself. This isn’t a triple X post nor will I offer various drugs and herbs to inflate, deflate, lengthen, shorten, broaden or make narrower any part upon your body. Your bank account is safe, I am not an African royal family in need of a western account nor am I 5 hot teens waiting for the pleasure only you can offer, I haven’t pre-approved you for a loan and I am not asking you to check my prices, I will not ask you for your password and I am not telling you you’ll ever get your hair back. ( I am however offering Roommate’s eternal soul at a cheap price after he sold it to me for some candy)
With that out of the way…what the fuck is left? Well being an adult to me means several things. One, it’s the liberty to swear as I fucking see fit without some fucktard slapping my wrist. I will try to contain myself in front of your children, I will try not to teach your puppy to swear and I will try not to swamp your mind with pictures of illegal yet pleasurable sexual acts that seem to define sin and hedonism in a way that clears the way for a revolution. But I will swear…… fuck yeah.
Having an opinion without old people telling you you’ll think differently when you get older. I am sure I will, I am sure you’re not as old as you think and I am sure that this is a valid opinion which means I’ll thank you kindly to butt out of it. ( don’t I sound like a grouchy teenager….woe, goth is me)
Money, to spend on weird things. Example I have 2 pizza’s in the fridge, chocolate and candy a plenty. I do not have bread, a good set of pans, furniture (besides an adorable glass table and previously mentioned fridge) and any of the other stuff. Yet it being my money I will happily scarf down my candy at 7.30 am watching my colleagues eat their bread the wife or husband* prepared that morning with love.
*How come no matter who I work with, male, female, old young, infirm or able bodied, NO ONE EVER PREPARES THEIR OWN LUNCH??!!??? It’s always the other partner the mom, the kid, the anyonebutthem. There is a bread making part of society that is passing me by and I can’t stand it. Show me who you are!!!!
Sex, ( I promise not the xxx kind though as I said in the beginning) I know it’s fashionable now to start at 12 and god knows you slutty lot probably did, but I waited until I was 19 (hormones out of my fucking ears by then) and am still happy about it. But what I mean by sex is the wonderful realisation (strengthened by not living with your parents but in your own pad) that you can, when the whim strikes you and he doesn’t resist the chloroform too strongly, hook up at random and shag someone’s brains out. That’s good, it’s the ultimate freedom (granted, plastic wrapped freedom) to share your body and mind in a (at least at the start) single mind melting experience.
Geekyness. I geek therefore I am. I play dungeons and dragons, I read webcomics religiously, I own a sliver deck in magic and I play Munchkin and other card games when Roommate has been callous in his defences of said cards. When you’re young you’re just a tomboy, when you’re older you’re the cute girl who all of a sudden quotes the cover rules in 3.5 edition and goes to conventions to party backstage with the famous actors.
Partying and Drinking. I drink about a glass of mead a month and my idea of a party is costumes and pool, but still… Knowing I –can- go out and get plastered makes it all better.
So those were some of the points.
Add on:
Roommate just invited me to a family dinner of his, seeing as he was paying I graciously accepted and went. It was a great meal (with bad cheesecake L ) and I enjoyed myself. But damn, his aunt needs to raise her Secondborn. Secondborn ( don’t sue me Millington) is a blond ditz of a girl, aged twelve who flicks her hair, tells jokes without punchline, timing or well, comedy and who gets up in the middle of dinner with her moms mobile, says she’s going to the bathroom and leaves for twenty fucking minutes. Oh Gods of parenting, strike down this child. Badly raised kids annoy me, not as much as anyone with bad comedy timing though. Next rant will probably be about comedy timing seeing as I am now sitting here thinking of a million things I want to say about that.
Last but not least, Yay, a comment. Anonymous user hoozah. Keep commenting!
With that out of the way…what the fuck is left? Well being an adult to me means several things. One, it’s the liberty to swear as I fucking see fit without some fucktard slapping my wrist. I will try to contain myself in front of your children, I will try not to teach your puppy to swear and I will try not to swamp your mind with pictures of illegal yet pleasurable sexual acts that seem to define sin and hedonism in a way that clears the way for a revolution. But I will swear…… fuck yeah.
Having an opinion without old people telling you you’ll think differently when you get older. I am sure I will, I am sure you’re not as old as you think and I am sure that this is a valid opinion which means I’ll thank you kindly to butt out of it. ( don’t I sound like a grouchy teenager….woe, goth is me)
Money, to spend on weird things. Example I have 2 pizza’s in the fridge, chocolate and candy a plenty. I do not have bread, a good set of pans, furniture (besides an adorable glass table and previously mentioned fridge) and any of the other stuff. Yet it being my money I will happily scarf down my candy at 7.30 am watching my colleagues eat their bread the wife or husband* prepared that morning with love.
*How come no matter who I work with, male, female, old young, infirm or able bodied, NO ONE EVER PREPARES THEIR OWN LUNCH??!!??? It’s always the other partner the mom, the kid, the anyonebutthem. There is a bread making part of society that is passing me by and I can’t stand it. Show me who you are!!!!
Sex, ( I promise not the xxx kind though as I said in the beginning) I know it’s fashionable now to start at 12 and god knows you slutty lot probably did, but I waited until I was 19 (hormones out of my fucking ears by then) and am still happy about it. But what I mean by sex is the wonderful realisation (strengthened by not living with your parents but in your own pad) that you can, when the whim strikes you and he doesn’t resist the chloroform too strongly, hook up at random and shag someone’s brains out. That’s good, it’s the ultimate freedom (granted, plastic wrapped freedom) to share your body and mind in a (at least at the start) single mind melting experience.
Geekyness. I geek therefore I am. I play dungeons and dragons, I read webcomics religiously, I own a sliver deck in magic and I play Munchkin and other card games when Roommate has been callous in his defences of said cards. When you’re young you’re just a tomboy, when you’re older you’re the cute girl who all of a sudden quotes the cover rules in 3.5 edition and goes to conventions to party backstage with the famous actors.
Partying and Drinking. I drink about a glass of mead a month and my idea of a party is costumes and pool, but still… Knowing I –can- go out and get plastered makes it all better.
So those were some of the points.
Add on:
Roommate just invited me to a family dinner of his, seeing as he was paying I graciously accepted and went. It was a great meal (with bad cheesecake L ) and I enjoyed myself. But damn, his aunt needs to raise her Secondborn. Secondborn ( don’t sue me Millington) is a blond ditz of a girl, aged twelve who flicks her hair, tells jokes without punchline, timing or well, comedy and who gets up in the middle of dinner with her moms mobile, says she’s going to the bathroom and leaves for twenty fucking minutes. Oh Gods of parenting, strike down this child. Badly raised kids annoy me, not as much as anyone with bad comedy timing though. Next rant will probably be about comedy timing seeing as I am now sitting here thinking of a million things I want to say about that.
Last but not least, Yay, a comment. Anonymous user hoozah. Keep commenting!
posted by Lexy | 8/14/2006 06:56:00 PM
2 Comments:
Hmm, actually offering my soul for sale might be considered fencing, as the soul in questions doesn't as such belong to you.
I know, I know, I sold it to you but by then it wasn't mine to sell anymore either, but being sansasoul makes fencing seems, well, peanuts.
I have received comments form some parties who would like you to know that selling my soul online will have consequences. "squeeze untill your body quivers nevermore" and "thousand camels licking your eyes in a sandstorm" were mentioned...
As you see ladies and gentlemen, Roommate is the lowest of slime as he sold a soul to me he hasn't owned in decades. I therefor implore you dear audience to agree with me on the fact that I am within my rights to snag his bag of potato chips as retribution.
vengeance is tasty these days, Suck on it!
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