McGill can eat my gut rot

I'd say that I drink about seven cups of coffee per paper-writing day.
Today, I'm at three cups. But it's only 2:30. I've eaten a handful of almonds (salted!) and some jam with porridge.

Anyway, I took this test.


Created by OnePlusYou

I didn't want to try too hard, you know, because then I'd be a try-hard. According to the test, I am "productive" and "jittery."

Again, if anyone has a little brother with ADD, CALL ME. Facebook me. Email me. Blog me. Text me. Smoke signal me. Sign me. You will be compensated for your time, services and kindness.

Sexually aggressive and completely untrustworthy

My dear friend Nik has shed some light on how I might go about summarizing my personality to potential suitors. I've been floundering around this soggy city for quite some time trying to figure out who I am. Luckily, I have Nik.

NIK: "So I'm going out with this girl tonight,"
JACQ: "Oh yeah, what's she like?"
NIK: "She's kind of like you, actually."
JACQ: "Really? What do you mean."
NIK: "Well, she's sexually aggressive and completely untrustworthy."

Oh. That sounds about right.

Nik, you are my Oracle.

Crying in public sucks

Last night I had to withstand a short, creepy man yelling at me in broken English about how he was "The KING" for two hours, and about how he was "a photographer," and towards the end of our chat, informed me that he had taken "over one hundred pictures" of me since he had sat down to drink his four glasses of Sauvignon Blanc.
Why?
So I can be even more violated during the day by McGill University.
I smile and play stupid barmaid psychiatry games all through the night so that I can pay to be treated like shit by some faceless institution that takes my dirty money, tells me to pick a number and wait so that I can be enlightened as to why I am not good enough to make the grade or the tuition payment deadline, so that I can be informed that my essays are not following closely enough to the the requirements of the assignment, and that my poor attendance has resulted in a dock of 10% on my final mark.
I'm sorry I wasn't in my conferences last week; I was busy giving blow jobs to your accounting secretary whilst taking it up the ass from the dean of Arts, all so that I can come back for round 2 next Wednesday afternoon.
McGill really is the school that just keeps on giving.

Take my dirty money you fucking fucks; it's the least that you deserve.

Daily Thoughts from the YMCA Steam Room

Training Bra: Underwire Bra
is as
Hamster: Puppy

This analogy came to me as I bathed this evening in a sweet warm cloud of eucalyptus at the YMCA. As the sweat and vapour glistened on my feminine curves, I pondered the hamster wheel. I came to the conclusion that the hamster wheel is the most depressing invention known to suburban pet-domesticity and beyond. I do not care to elaborate on this today, but would rather encourage a discussion about this contraption.

I wanted a puppy or a kitten when I was five. My parents bought my sister and I each hamsters. Mine was brown, named Sarah. After her first grade boyfriend, my sister named her white hamster Neil, even though it was a girl (we were raised in a gender neutral household- NOT). My Dad is really cheap so he decided to economize on the caging issue. Consequently, Neil ended up eating Sarah. Sarah and Niel were my training bras to what I now have, which are kibble-eating, good-tempered dogs and underwire bras.

Today, I love my Java-puppy and my fashionably-engineered perky tits.

I continue to be saddened by the hamster wheel, and the more recent invention known as "the clear plastic ball with breathing holes." I wish hamsters were smart enough to be freedom fighters. Instead, they eat each other.

Links!
My Life Sucks
I'm too quick for these social constructions