After reading the news this week, I just want to climb into a bucket and live there for a week. There's less going on in a bucket than you would think.

Needless to say, I'm a bit disappointed. After enduring a 6-month football season for the FIRST and LAST time (as the sky tumbles down on my head), I read the headlines of my paper this morning.

A senior at a prestigious foofoo private school died yesterday from injuries that he sustained while PLAYING a football game a few weeks ago against ANOTHER prestigious foofoo private school.

*poo*

While I'm trying to CONVINCE #1 son to NOT play football next year, I use this kid's predictament as an example.

"See him? He was hit by a LEGAL hit and now is in a coma." (He doesn't know that the boy died yet.)

Did it have an impact? Of any sort?

"It won't happen to me, mom."

KARMA, son, states in section 29348, paragraph 29, section z, "Anything that [Her-Story] has done during the course of her life, including, but not limited to, profane thoughts, actions, and deeds, followed by deep-seeded meanie comments about stupid people and bad drivers, will in fact be dispensed upon her AND her household until the earth implodes and the universe, as we know it, is sucked into a blank void never to exist again."

Did that work? I lost him at "coma."

When I really expect to fulfill my duty as BITCHIESTBITCHintheBITCHINworld, I fall short and grow a temporary conscience. (Damn me)

I finished reading Assface's thesis. My ass puckered as he wrote about the "ancient Italians" who lived in "Italy." (Do I have to slap a history lesson onto this one?? OK, I will... Italy was NOT unified until the World Wars. There! All condensed and shit for the moderately confused.)

The entire time I'm reading this pieceofmonkeyshit, I just want to write in HUGE red letters, "GOOD GOD MAN, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?" but I remembered how I felt LAST week when I was the target of fire-throwing her-story-philes during my time in the hotseat LAST week.

So, the question remains...

Am I the cold-hearted-dog-kicking bitch that I aspire to be? Or, am I just a mushety-mush underneath a teflon exterior just WAITING for someone to be nice to me?

(My money's on the dog kicker)

And, if I get ONE MORE GODDAMN PHONE CALL from someone in class asking me if I took that 1-1/2 diatribe personally, I will completely.freak.out.like.totally.unmagellan-like.

Ok, were we ALL in the same room?

Sure, it was so redundant that after the first hour, even the most steely-eyed pro would've buckled. However, nary a tear, remember? I didn't fucking cry... so why are they all calling me then?

Pity?
Sympathy?
Gloat-ability?
Hopeful that I won't turn on THEM when it's THEIR turn in the hotseat?

(I'm banking it's the latter...)

I have GOT to learn to shut my piehole sometimes. I made this little comment that I was thinking of bringing food by my prof's house after while he's recouperating from surgery.

I apparently OWN the goddamn bandwagon and there's a "no limit" sign hanging on the back.

Remember the shampoo commercial with Heather Locklear washing her hair and gleefully spouting, "And I told two friends and THEY told two friends and SO on and SO on...?"

Color me Heather and slap me silly.

Apparently the ONE person I mentioned it to happened to announce it to OTHER people who now want to bring food to our recovering leader.

(who's less of a pain in the ass than last week)

Well, geez... glad that my heritage helps you all get an "A." I guess being nice comes with competitive value nowadays, eh?

And, one last point... if J-Boy acts so "unthreatened" by the fact that our advisor thinks I'm a "better writer" than he is, then why did he lead the parade in my scalding?