My Voice Smells Like Garlic

Christmas is sometimes called Xmas because of X-Men. I have never read any of those comics or seen any of the movies, but I used to watch the cartoon when I was younger and I always liked Gambit because he was from New Orleans and I don,t think I knew what that meant. Maybe I thought it was a planet.

I always hated the little girl that shot fireworks as her power. That was useless. I may actually be making her up right now or she may have been a character on Captain Planet. Either way, I don,t plan on looking up those shows to check my facts. The bottom line is that it was Xmas the other day and I celebrated the way those dead mutants would have wanted me to - I worked.

Ryuichi Sakamoto - Beauty
The night before I stayed up really late so I could go hang out with my friend because that,s what I do every year. I drive forty miles and hang out with my friend in the cold for a few hours and then drive home. It,s a good tradition. I hope it never ends. We played with garbage and talked about how somebody in the world looks like a goose-human hybrid and we both think that that is kind of hot for some reason.

That means that I only got to sleep for three or four hours before going to work. It was weird. I felt impossibly tired. I almost liked it except that it made time gross and bendy and everything took forever. Maybe that,s because I was waiting so hard for work to be over. Whatever. I made a good X-Man lunch (baked macaroni and cheese but I didn,t use macaroni noodles because those are dumb. I used penne because those are less dumb).

That night, my dad made me a weird dinner that was delicious and I gave him a book that he acted like he liked. He is so good at that. He always yells in excitement when I give him something. That,s what makes a good dad, pretending to care about the gifts that are given to you by your children. It doesn,t matter if you,re an alcoholic or you molest, all that matters is your acting ability come Xmas time. That,s what the season is all about.

Bad Food

My Death Cab For Cute cover band played at a grown up house last night. It was weird. The house was in a neighborhood of respectable homes with Christmas lights and cars and families rather than being in an alley where homeless people go to poop. That alley is by my apartment. We call it Poop Alley because there is so many streaks of poop on the wall.

I got there really early because I am an idiot. Nobody was there except the poor host. She was dressed like and adult and they had wine glasses there. That,s how I knew it was a grown up house. We watched Tom Hanks shake his head on television for a while. It was quiet and strange so we left and walked to a store which was extremely bleak and suicidal. They didn,t have any juice.

When we got back, the punkers had begun to arrive. I sat on the couch with some friends and had a nice conversation. There was a guy sitting on a couch across the room who kept jumping into our little talk. He was so excited and about something that seemed not to exist. He was from Ashland, Kentucky. He started by telling us about the records that he kept putting on. Then he would hear somebody say something and start asking questions about it that nobody cared about the answers to. He asked if Brooklyn was near Manhattan just because he liked the idea of words coming out of his mouth. I mentioned to somebody that I had eaten a burrito for lunch and that the restaurant that I went to prepares their burritos on a grill and they serve them flat. The young man from Ashland, Kentucky told me that I had eaten a quesadillia. When I protested he then told me that I had eaten a taco.

Krzysztof Komeda - Astigmatic
Of course, the topic eventually moved to eating horses and he said that if he had it his way, he would eat fish all the time. He kept suggesting things. I couldn,t figure him out. I don,t know if he was weirded out by being around so many people or if he is just like that around anybody. The only glimpse I got into the possible reasoning for his madness was that he mentioned putting half of a can of Mountain Dew in the fridge because he didn,t think that it would be a good idea for him to finish it all. Maybe he has a very low tolerance for sugar or caffeine or carbonation or aluminum and those five ounces really got him going. I can,t be sure. The only thing I am sure of is that I will miss him and I wish I knew his name and phone number and address because he was a rare breed.

Everything broke when we played and we sounded bad and ruined every song. There was a group of three young girls sitting in a hallway texting as we played. They had the right idea.

Martin Luther King Junior

Sometimes I wonder if I am going to die soon because so many of my dinners are the same or almost exactly the same. I eat penne pasta very often. I always have a big bag of it at work so that makes up at least two of my dinners each week. The other five to seven dinners (I sometimes have, what I call, second dinner) are often pasta based dishes such as more penne or stir fry. I am almost positive that I only have between six and eight weeks left to live.

I,m sure this feeling would change if I decided to eat human food, but I think we all know that that is not going to happen. Have you even ever tried pasta? It,s really good. It,s also very cheap and that is probably the most important thing. I was just trying to think of what I could do tonight to make sure that I don,t eat pasta for dinner and I think my only other option would be English muffin/mustard sandwiches or rice which is basically tiny little pastas.

The Weeknd - House Of Balloons
So far today I have eaten a bowl of cereal, a sandwich, and a weird packaged Indian-style meal of yellow vomit and spicy fecal balls which were probably some kind of pasta. Those Indian things are cool because they,re only a dollar, but they put a bunch of bay leaves in there and sometimes I accidentally eat one and I don,t want to eat bay leaves. I think I was always taught to take those out of whatever you,re cooking before you serve it because they are more poisonous than snakes or some poisonous lizards. I don,t know.

Well, I just looked up ,,Why do you remove bay leaves?,, on Google and the first thing that comes up is titled Bay leaf - Will it kill you? Obviously the answer is yes. I don,t get why they leave it in the weird gravy soup. Maybe they are still mad about England being jerks to them. That shouldn,t have to effect me though. I didn,t vote for England. Not my president. I wish I was a fifteen year old girl with ugly hair so I could make a patch that says Not My President and put it on my Nightmare Before Christmas backpack.

Plumber

I went to a punker show the other night. I didn,t feel right there. My hair was too long and my boots were too nonexistent for that group. They were nice enough though. I actually don,t know if they were nice or not. I watched one band and spent the rest of my time there inside of a house watching people fight on television. It was a strange, enjoyable evening.

I had never seen a UFC fight before. All I knew about them was that jerks like to watch them and that some people like to wear black shirts with skulls and roses on them. I mostly paid attention to how weird their ears looked. I think there were three or four matches on the show and every person,s ear looked like a melted plastic bag. It made me want to be an ultimate fighter too. I think I could. Some of them weighed as much as me but they were several inches shorter and were made of more than a semi-translucent quilt of skin covering brittle, ugly, chalk bones.

Aloha - That,s Your Fire
I eventually left and went to have some din-din at a nice little Mexican place. ,,Mexican place,, sounds really racist. There was a man shaped like a bowling ball there who was talking into an old hacky sack filled with triple A batteries as if it were a cell phone. He was sitting at a table surround by food that he had dropped or smashed onto the floor and asked me and all of the people I was with if he could get a ride down the street. He did it in a very strange way. He came up to the side of me as I was about to order and repeatedly said, ,,Hey, bro. Hey, bro. Hey, bro,, and when I would look to him signaling that I heard what he had said, he would stand motionless for a few moments so I would look away, thinking that he may have been speaking to somebody else (he was wearing sunglasses so I couldn,t see who he was looking at). He did it again and I looked at him a little bit longer until his spit-covered lips puked out a mumbly sentence at me. He was clearly looking for a victim rather than a car ride so I had to decline his offer to sit next to me in my tiny car.

The rest of the evening was spent eating burritos and talking about backpacks. I guess backpacks are expensive. I,ve had the same one since I was in eighth grade. My friend said that she would give me a backpack that she had sitting in her closet because she didn,t know who it belonged to, but she probably won,t because I bet she,s a backpack tease. Most girls are backpack teases.