$#!$@#!

If you have dreamed of becoming bulimic to control your weight, but are squeamish at sticking your finger down your throat, just watch an episode of Laguna Beach on MTV. It makes me want to vomit, so maybe it will help you. Somehow, I don’t find the trials and tribulations of overly plucked, tanned, and thin teen girls and their equally beautiful boy friends (and boyfriends) remotely compelling. After my urge to puke on all of their expensive clothes fades, an urge to slap every one of them repeatedly kicks in. Why, America, why, do you validate these assholes? Things like this seriously make me loathe our putrid waste of a culture. If I didn’t hate heat and humidity so damn much, and if I had any wilderness survival skills at all, I would move into the Everglades and become a deranged hermit, like my hero in all the Carl Hiaason novels. (Long live Skink!!!). I suppose I could also consider a cave, although I get cold really easily, so I’m not sure the dampness will suit me any better than heat and humidity. Damn middle class upbringing and need for comforts such as indoor plumbing and quality toilet paper has foiled me again...