New Year, Same Shit

Surprise! For your Chanukkah/Christmas/Festivus/New Year's gifts (what? You don't get presents on New Year's? Suckers), I've decided to give you all heart attacks. That's right, I'm back. And, just like Lucy, I've got some MAJOR 'splaining to do. OK, maybe not like Lucy. I'm not as funny.

While I could just take the simple route and blame my absence on a fiery car wreck, one of my New Year's resolutions was to be more honest (no one really believed I'm related to Angelina Jolie anyway. I'm way more beautiful than she is) and less elaborate, so here we go:

I had some family shit to deal with over the summer and I had to take a blogging sabbatical. That's all the explanation you get. Just because I tell you guys about my (non)- sexual exploits and drunken adventures doesn't mean my blogs are a free-for-all. Sorry.

So now we move to fall, when this semester really kicked my ass. Try taking Law AND Accounting at the same time. My Law professor hated me. I have no idea why, maybe because he was trying to teach and got distracted by my intoxicating hotness. I don't know. Anyway, my Accounting class was so hard that I had nightmares about it. No, seriously. Last week I had this dream where I failed so badly that the "F" on my transcript was crossed out and my professor wrote a "G" instead. It's like, I'm so stupid with math stuff that they have to make up a whole new grade.

Anyway, school's over and my family's back to normal. Well, as normal as a bunch of Jews that don't even own a menorah can possibly be, anyway. I promise never to leave you guys again- at least not for six months. I hope you didn't forget about me.

I know at least someone didn't. Yesterday I was going through my hotmail inbox for the first time in like, two weeks or something, because that's always good for a laugh. There was the usual shit- genius grant offers, winning lottery numbers, animal porn. You know, stuff that I don't need, except for the animal porn, because my life is already complete. All I need is Success Rice-In-A-Box and the little stool in front of my 12-inch tv. Oh, and my outhouse. I'm a minimalist.

Anyway, I deleted all those and was about to close out when I noticed an email from Christen Smith. The name sounded vaguely familiar. I racked my brain, which was pretty difficult because it was still overloading on Debits and Credits. That'll take a while to get rid of. Then I remembered one certain retard named Nurse Lola. Yes, that one. But it couldn't be her; I hadn't even thought about her in like, eight months. Then I remembered that she had all the brain capacity of the guy that hosts the opening ceremonies of the Special Olympics, so she probably just finished reading the blog that I wrote about her. Yes, it all made sense now.

I clicked on the email and skimmed through it. It took me a little longer than it should have because I had to pause for laughter and phone calls to my friends. Take a look:

Dear, golden Arches ( is that a lame ass reference to mickey D's..lmfao..how sad and predictable .)..anywho.......i do believe ain't isn't proper english......wait..you saw me in the bar.....haha...unlikely bitch..and if you did...funny you didn't have the ( eh hem..proverbial) balls to talk any of your nonsense to my face. You know what's amusing? , people like you that spend countless hours online pointing out such random stupid and obvious shit..please....is that supposed to be intelligent ..ha. Jesus christ your wasting mommy and daddys money on your education. My 7 year old is more articulate than you. .....and making fun of me make you feel better...knock yourself out.....pathetic yes..but enjoy...lol.....since clearly you have no real life other then your dell laptop attached to your lazy ass like a fucking accesory. Seriously talk is cheap whore. talk it up.... Id love to see your whiny ass back any of it up.

Maybe I'm still burnt out from "wasting" my parents' money on my 3.7 GPA, but there's a lot of stuff that she said that I didn't understand. Is she saying that it's unlikely that I'm a bitch? Or does she really mean "unlikely (comma) Bitch"? I also find it funny that her 7-year-old is supposed to be more articulate than I am, yet she still hasn't figured out the difference between "you're" and "your." Maybe when she's finished learning how to divide her ramblings into more than one sentence we can sit down and have a chat about how this email was about eight months too late.

By the way, just in case one of you is going to point this out: I'm very aware that "ain't" is not proper English. My email address is a joke. I hate when people use the word "ain't." Just like "supposably." Or, say, "anywho."

I also find it interesting that she took her Myspace name from a Kinks song about a tranvestite. Is she trying to tell us something?

Anyway, that's my useless digression for the day. I love you all, and I swear you'll hear from me again soon. Or at least by 2008.