It's like almost 1 AM. So what's that mean? Well I just wrote an essay for AP Literature, of course. You know how I am with that. And of course it's due tomorrow! And of course I'm not happy with it! But it's fucking...there are 5 more days of school this year. Fuck it, you know? I really don't care at this point. I'm so sick of it.
Okay! Weekend recap!!!!!!!
Friday! I uhhh...I don't remember. I think I just sat at home.
Saturday! I get on my cell phone (the day before) and am like "Hey, Megan Greene! Are you free tomorrow!" And she's all "Possibly yes" or some shit like that. So I wake up on Saturday to Jimmy calling me asking me if I'm still coming over. I tell the bitch, "Yeah, I'm coming, you asshole." He tells me, "Okay, well I just got back from Baltimore and we need to go to Wal-mart first and then I'll call you when we get back. That should be around 4." So I say, "Whatever, bitch." So then I get this text from Megan and she's all "Are you still wanting to do the shoot today?" I say, "Yeah, that's the plan." She's all like, "Alright. When's this shit goin' down?" I'm all like, "Asshole Jim has been in Baltimore and he just got home and he had to run to Wal-mart and is supposed to get back around 4. I'll let you know what's going on when I find out." Well I sit at home 'till like 4:30 and Megan's been asking what's going on. She even CALLED me and shit. That's how curious we get, that we actually call and TALK on our cell phones. So I call Jim and ask him if he's going to be home soon. He's on his way home. I say, "Bitch, can we pick up Megan with you or do I have to go get her myself?" He says, "Bitch, I ain't yo man. Get her yourself." So I do. I call up my auntie (because I still don't have a car of my own or any of that shit) and we roll out to Megan's house. Megan gets in the car, my auntie Cris thought I said something about her tits, I laughed and said, "No! Not 'She's got a nice rack!' I said, 'This car is a wreck!'" Too funny. So Megan gets in the back of the van and we fuckin' roll to Jim's house! Then we all dick around for a while, Megan gets acquainted with my bitches, and then we go out to take her picture for the album cover. End paragraph.
So we're out trying to take her picture for the new I Forget album cover and there are mosquitoes fuckin' everywhere! I'm still itching from where they bit me. Poor Megan Greene was wearing a dress! Terrible. Just terrible. So we get some potentially good shots to work with, take some group pictures ('cause das how we roll), get bitten by blood-sucking insects some more, and go back to the house. A little later, Tim, my main bitch, shows up. I swear, my friends don't know what to do around pretty girls. Well we show Megan our video that we were making a sequel to that day. She found it to be enjoyable, I do believe. I'm hoping she enjoyed her time with us. Jim's mom then drove her home. That's when we got to business and made the best fucking opening scenes to a movie EVER. They will come all in good time. This movie's not gonna be some 5-minute bull shit. We're aiming for half an hour of footage. I play the part of the protagonist, Jackson. Jackson is fucking badass. I am fucking badass. It works.
So then we edit that shit down, sit around and talk about things that will not be discussed publicly, and then we watched Silent Hill because Alex hadn't seen it. It's fucking retarded and fucked up, I swear. We the kids that live in West Virginia know that there is no such thing as a Silent Hill, WV. Huge hole in your plot line, assholes. I guess that's not important, though. That movie is so fucked up. Then I fell asleep.
Sunday! I wake up pissed off because my dreams weren't real! I fucking hate that shit! Then we play some Super Smash Bros and Alex drives me home. I get a bath and then I sleep some more. I wake up, put a shirt on, and go to graduation. It was windy. People threw their hats. I played a bunch of quarter notes and one eighth note on the bass drum for a song. Tough shit. But there's some fff shit at the end of the song, and that's fun. I might have added an f. Woops. Then I came home, read a little, and wrote an essay. Now I'm right here. Writing a blog.
Are you satisfied? This is the last week of school. It should be over NOW. NO ONE gives a FUCK. Oh, and just one thing. One of the stories I had to compare in my essay is called "Speaking of Courage" and it's a chapter from The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, who is my favorite war author. It didn't even register that I was reading Tim O'Brien until I was halfway through the story and certain parts had seemed very familiar. For some fucking reason, they changed the names and some of the places for this text book, though. It threw me off. I had to go online and realize they'd changed Norman Bowker to Paul Berlin and Kiowa or whatever to Frenchie. How fucking retarded. Plus, they said that Kiowa, or in this story's case Frenchie, died in an underground tunnel instead of sinking into a marsh where Norman tried to pull him out but failed. Why the hell did they do that? It was a perfectly excellent chapter in a book and I liked it a lot better in context of the story than as a short story in a text book. Pfft.
I fucking love Tim O'Brien, though. Alex keeps comparing his love for reading to my love for punk music and stuff. I understand now. He has respect for and enjoys Herman Melville and prefers How to Clean Everything. I have respect for and enjoy Supporting Caste and Potemkin City Limits and prefer J.D. Salinger or Kurt Vonnegut. I like that, though. If only they had punk history class in school. He's going to do great in AP Literature next year. If you understood that, good job. Those references were kind of a stretch for most people.
My jaw just did something real fucked up and I didn't like it. I think that's a sign that I need iron and sleep.