Instead of regaling you with stories of my random activities (80’s night, Corpse Bride, staying in bed till 2PM) from this weekend, I thought I would write about some ideas I have been milling over recently.
1)When I went home last weekend, I read some National Review (my favorite magazine). For those of you who don’t know NR is basically the political polar opposite of The New Republic (shudder, spit). I spotted an add for the complete collections of Florence King’s columns. Her back page spot ‘The Misanthrope’s Corner’ ran for about 12 years—I even wrote her fan mail one time. She was a Southern lady, with impeccable taste—she often appeared on the covers of her books holding a Phyllis Diller-like cigarette holder. (She wrote Reflections Through a Jaundiced Eye, With Malice Towards all and Charity Towards None.)
The appearance of Florence made me congeal a theory I have been developing for years. I know others have said it before, but here goes. Basically it is this: Conservatives hate people. This ‘curmudgeon factor’ is what has really drawn me to this amalgam of nihilist-libertarian-conservatism.
2)I want to be Jake Shears.
3)The Kennedy’s, Bushes, and the Clintons are sleazy for one reason: the have made a career out of being politicians. I don’t believe in altruism, and therefore they have to be faking it too.
4) I know schizophrenia is a horrible, debilitating disease, but I think it would be awesome to be a schizo for a day. I mean, hallucinations, delusions of grandeur, and illogical cognitive processes. Seriously people, what’s not to like?
5)People should not allow Manda and me to hang out anymore. It's just gotten out of control.
Referring to sorority girl walking past us on the sidewalk tonight:
Me: My ankles are perpetually cold due to the gap between my ugg boots and bottom of my cuffed jeans.
Manda: My upper-thighs have frostbite due to the fact that I wear super mini skirt in winter.
Me: My labia is cold in the winter because my low-rise pink sweat pants don't cover it.
Manda: I can't buy pants to cover my rotten crotch.
Me: I am laughing so hard I gave myself an asthma attack.