Like blowing things up and stuff.
I want to meet those old euro-trash men that came in and were rude and sleazy to me when I worked at Starbucks. Then I want to run them over with my Toyota Tercel.
Liars, I,m listening to them right now, Kill me Tomorrow, Elliot Smith, Belle and Sebastion, Blonde Redhead, David Bowie, Joy Division, the Buzzcocks, the Cure, the Clash, Velvet Underground, Wire, T-Rex, Count Five, Led Zepplin, the Seeds, the Kinks, Gary Numan, the Smiths, Thirteenth Floor Elevators, the Yardbirds, Roxy Music, the Who, blah, blah, blah, Blur, the Rapture, Chicks on Speed, LadyTron, leTigre, and a bunch of other current shit that I'll hate myself for listing in six months.
Sisterhood of the traveling pants? Just cause I really dig the title. Makes me wonder, like, did they wash the pants before they passed them on? I mean I would wonder what my "sisters" were doing on their little montage adventures before I'd wanna wear their pants. Not that I've ever seen the movie. Of course not.
I like that episode of Seventh Heaven, when the athletic sister is playing basketball with her friend, when she discovers that her friend is hooked on those performance enhancing vitamins. Then the athletic sister feels uncomfortable and has to tell her dad. Her dad goes over and talks to the friends dad about the dangers of performance enhancing vitamins. But he won't listen. Then the friend almost dies.
I fantasize about gently removing Harry Potter's glasses and gazing deeply into his acne scarred lightning bolt, then I'd run away with his wand and sell it on e-bay.
White men who can't jump. Why can't they just jump?