short pants romance

Whenever I feel really mad or down, I like to send angry emails to Bill O’Reilly, where I make a point to tell him that, as a female, I am deeply offended by his constant objectification of women, and as an 18-24 year old student, I’m still angry about his generalization about me not knowing where Iraq is on a map.

My point is, your life would be alot better if you were fucking nuts.

I once had a friend who got out of a speeding ticket by frantically apologizing for not wearing her seatbelt.
My sister and I would not enjoy spending time with our dad’s stepmother so much if it weren’t for her constant stories of her dogs eating her hearing aid or a litter of chickens who all have furry feet.
Daniel Johnston, is perhaps, one of the most amazing songwriters of our generation, and he’s crazy as hell.
You can get out of jail for being crazy, as Jack Nicholson has proved (although, in his case it did not turn out so well.)

If you were totally insane, people would hang out with you more. I promise.
There is this kid that lives downtown(I think), that everyone knows of but doesn’t actually KNOW, and it is because he is nuts. I myself dont know him, but I know all about him.
Everyone knows that last weekend, this kid dressed like a redneck and beat up a real estate advisor with brass knuckles for MAYBE blowing smoke in some girl’s face.
Everyone knows he once dressed completely in Prada and started jumping up and down on the hood of a car that wasn’t his in the parking lot of Deidrich’s(when is was still around).
Now, the thing that really makes my point is, I have never seen this guy. I do not know what he looks like. I probably have been to a lot of parties where he was there at the same time, and I had no idea.
No one has ever said anything about how he looks or about him being attractive, so he’s probably pretty unremarkable looking.
No one has never said anything about him doing anything or going to school, so he probably doesn’t have any cool interests or hobbies.
No one ever says anything about this guy, except for stories that no matter what, start with “Did you hear about [blank] this weekend??” end with “he’s fucking crazy, man.”, which leads me to believe that the only reason this guy has ANY friends, is so they can witness these things firsthand, talk about it later, casually mentioning that they were definetly there.

The problem with this is you say to yourself, “Well, I wouldn’t want that because that would mean people are only hanging out with me for certain reasons.”
But another really amazing thing about being crazy is simply that you are too crazy to care.