hit by a school bus...a short one none the less

if i were to write marraige vows, they would go something like this:
1. i vow to love and cherish you for the rest of my life...and by the "rest of my life" i mean until the alcohol/drugs wear off.
2. i promise that i will never hurt you emotionally. as for physically, that depends. don't go off and do something stupid and i won't hurt you by putting your head through the refigerator door.
3. i vow to never cheat on you, i will always remain faithful. however, when i am completely smashed or on a carribean vacation, it doesn't count.
4. i promise to cherish you in sickness and in health, unless you come down with a deadly disease...in that case, stay the hell away from me.
5. i promise to love you for richer or poorer. so when i lose all of my money gambling, you better stick to this and let me have your bank account number.
6. i promise to treat you nicely in front of friends and family. but when we go home, the act wears off and you can go get me a beer from the fridge and i will go back to pretending that you are my housekeeper.
7. i vow to have sex with you only when i am interested. acceptable excuses for being denied ass: i'm too tired, i have a headache, and no, i've already gotten some from your brother/sister.
8.(a). i promise not to procreate with you if we think the kids will turn out to be ugly or losers. being ugly and a loser is a social handicap...why do that to small, innocent children?
8.(b). i will not procreate with you if i think that our child would grow to have an obsession with dungeons and dragons, buy a hillary duff cd, or aspire to be the world's greatest hopscotch-er.
9. i promise to live by the saying, "what's yours is mine and what's mine is mine."
10. i vow to love you through thick and thin. but if you get too thick, i will refer you to one of the many reality tv make-over shows. and if you get too thin, i will take the needle out of your arm, hand you a sandwich, and give you mary-kate's phone number.

if only i was licensed to marry people and write their vows...i think there would be a lot more cancellations of weddings, resulting in a lower divorce rate because they would never get married in the first place. one day i will save the world. and not by stopping world hunger or the spread of AIDS, but by telling the awful truth about marraige and wedding ceremonies and saving people from the financial fuck of a wedding and a divorce. amen.

so, i opened a can of soup today. i will not tell you which brand, but i will tell you that there was an extra surprise in there. no, not a little green army man that you would find in the cracker jack box, but a big, fuzzy, cuddly, green-ish/blue-ish piece of mold. now, i thought i was safe from mold with canned food because no air could get in, therefore, leaving no way to produce the fun fuzzy mold. but, i guess i stand corrrected. now, i was pretty bitter about finding this friend in my soup because i had a hankering for clam chowder. but, i had to break down and do what i hate, which is throw food away. i thought, "oh, a little pennicillin never hurt anybody," and i plucked the mold out of the soup. but after thinking long and hard, i refered back to what my mother said. she cans food a lot, and if one doesn't seal right, bad bacteria can get into the jar, and if opened and eaten, you could become very sick. so, i went with my gut feeling and threw the chowder away and kicked myself in the ass because starving children in ethiopia would've eaten the soup anyway. they take baths in sewage rivers, and i am grossed out by a little mold. i am such a sissy.

don't you love it when a 94 year-old woman tells you where to stick it? well, maybe you don't, but seeing that my parents live with my great aunt, i know this feeling all too well. let me just say that she doesn't like women. she loves men because they eat her food and she feels honored to clean up after them...excuse me while i vomit. okay, puke session over. and she especially doesn't like me because i eat the least out of the family. so, when i moved away to college, she was thrilled and probably indulged herself in her numerous crossword puzzles. but, every now and again when i come home, she feels it necessary to piss me off. she always has to ask me when i am leaving 80 times, and then when she figures she pissed me off enough with that question, she makes sure that i verify the date that i am leaving. for example:
Aunt Ann: so, renee, are you sure you are leaving tomorrow?
Me: Yeah, i have things i have to do at school.
Aunt Ann: but, you are really leaving for good tomorrow?
Me: yeah, now leave me the fuck alone before you could make it any more clear that you don't like me. (okay, maybe this last part was is my head.)
but, she always has to rain on my parade to make herself feel better. she also likes to comment on my weight by telling me that no matter how i eat, i am going to get fat. but we shall save that for another day. as for now, i will continue to wonder why we don't put her in an assisted living home, because she has almost burnt down our house about 7 times. good call mom and dad for choosing to take in a royal bitch who will only live to be 209. cheers.

happy fuckin' new year. here's my resolutions:
1. to only drink once a week...i know, i know, it seems far fetched, but it needs to be accomplished...drinking 4 or 5 times a week is bad...yet oh so good.
2. go to the gym more often. this one is way over used and not nearly half of the people that say this actually stick to it...but with all of that drinking, my ass needs to go to the gym.
3. seek revenge on everyone that will piss me off this year. my new years already started off with a couple of people on my shit list. who goes to their friend's house for new years, starts a fight, and then calls the party host a bitch and a slut and all of the other naughty words he could think of? not cool, man. oh, and did i forget to mention that every girl at this party got punched either in the face or on the head? give me a fucking break. take your macho man attitude back to the ghetto where you got it from...and who bites someones finger in a fight? either the attacker was really hungry and just confused it with a cocktail weenie, or he wanted to throw a spin on the whole holyfield situation by biting a finger. my advice: eat before you come, and don't watch mike tyson box...he may give you some bad ideas.

happy new year '05...may it be filled with beer, bitches, and many more bar fights to come.