Oh, Bud Light

After a long evening spent drinking Bud Light and smoking monumental amounts of weed, I have come to a decision. It's definitely time for me to take a break from drinking. I'm not by any means saying that I drink often, either.
I just don't think drinking agrees with me as well as smoking does. Smoking seems to fight the depression and Attention Deficit, but drinking only adds to both.
I have also decided that when I do drink, I enjoy doing so alone. My irritation with the human race seems to only get more intense with the consumption of alcohol.
Review your vices for a moment. There has to be one that really seems useless to you, even if you cannot seem to live without it. Well, beer it is, for me.

The next portion of this can only be dedicated to Vodka, because Vodka is the bane of my very existence. Three shots, in fifteen minutes. I was spinning like a propeller on an airplane, and actually had to make myself stop drinking because I felt so sick to my stomach. Why is it, I wonder, that a woman of my nationality and history of familial alcoholism, cannot handle such a beverage?
I believe that the answer is simple; Vodka was designed for women who don't drink often, and like to get smashed when they do. Hello, high school girls. I have come to this conclusion based on the number of young women I have witnessed pouring the filthy stuff down their throats, and then complaining about their decision making skills the next morning.
For this reason, I'll take my whiskey and coke any day. I like to be able to make decisions I don't regret, and I haven't regretted a damn thing at all, lately. So cheap drunks, I advise you. Switch to cheap whiskey. It's harsh, but mix it with some Ginger Ale, and you should be all set.

Jim Beam, anyone?
-fin

Oh, sex.

Okay, okay. So perhaps I'm bitter. But the sounds of vicious lovemaking coming from the bedroom adjacent to mine tell me that I'm just a normal person, who is annoyed by the amount of noise her roommates feel they need to make during sex.
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy sex as much as the next person, and most would think my adverse attitude toward what is going on in the next room is based solely on frustration.
Blah blah, single woman not getting laid. She's just mad because she's not getting any.
Nope, not the case. I am, however, irritated about the fact that I am basically shut in my room until they decide that they're done.
Oh my god.
Now they're talking about getting married.

Fuck my life, guys.
What's girl to do. They keep moving around, and I can only hope that means I can fucking piss.
It's been well over an hour.
>:[
-fin.

Another Cellphone Rant.

Get over it, Jane. You're probably never going to have your amazing Sidekick back.

I have to hand it to my parents. They know how to spoil a kid. Just this past week, my Mom and Pops handed my my brand new UX260, made by LG. Now, normally I would be very excited to receive a new cellphone, as I'm sure any self-respecting college student would. But why on Earth, would a company sell phones, that are being returned for technical problems, by the SAME customer, numerous times? You would think that this would lead to other customers, who have the same phone, to do the same. One person can not possibly receiving ALL of the faulty ones. I have returned this phone four times, since I first purchased it in August. Why, you wonder? The keyboard on the UX260 (The LG Rumor, according to Sprint) does not work more than five times, before it skips, and causes your cell phone to turn off. Wonderful. Someone give me a BlackBerry. A Razr, even! Anything to end my suffering.
No, I'm not finished.
This phone is just ugly. I will not apologize.

As a disclaimer, I am a shameless asshole, and I strongly dislike most people.
Take into consideration, mind you, that I am twenty-one year old college student. I have no place judging those in my age group.
But, there is one class of young person that I just cannot tolerate.
The "bro". The simple-minded feminized male that hangs out with 'the boys' more on a weekly basis, than I would hang out with my best friend in a year. It's sad, really. They come in large groups, and generally carry shitty characteristics such as bad pick-up lines, in their pockets.
For instance, while at a bar recently, I was assailed by a young man; approximately twenty-two, wearing a button-down shirt and khaki shorts.
Said young man did not appreciate the fact that I was not paying remote attention to him, so he attempted a new angle: the pick-up line.
Conversation went as follows:
Bro: "Have you seen any woodland creatures around here tonight?"
J: "Uhhh. Nope. Not as far as I recall."
(Seconds pass...)
J: "Why...?"
Bro: (thrusting his bulging forearms in my face,) "BECAUSE THESE ANACONDAS ARE HUNGRY!"
(Scores of laughter from his mates ensued, upon his receipt of my dumbfounded expression.)

C'mon. Ladies. Really? Do they think that by acting like common domesticated animals, they will succeed in charming today's sophisticated upper-crust women?
I doubt it.

Scumbags, beware.
We can see right through you, and we're smarter than you give us credit for.

Dope. Dirt. Brother. Nixon. Judas. In other words, heroine.
I have never tried it. I never will.
But it is amongst my generation like a plague. I have gone no where on my travels and not heard of its use. I do in fact, have several friends that are former heroine users. There is every chance, that they are still using.
What is this black tar plague that has infected America's youth? To the government, it is under watchful eye. But the population itself? Not nearly to the degree that it should be.
Now, I am not hating on the substance itself. Just the destructive side-effects that I have seen come from its use. Ironically, I can think of no 'good' things about the drug, perhaps except, the high itself.
But is it really even enjoyable? The sources I have spoken to say so, but I am inclined to disagree.
Perhaps this is a subject I am not fit to speak on, but as an advocate for freedom as a term, I am going to share my thoughts, regardless.
In my limited experience with users, I have heard only awful horror stories of the come-down; the biting period after use that makes one feel as though he is dying a slow, painful death. But, perhaps dramatist points of view are necessary to prevent its use by others. I am not to be the one who makes that decision.
This rant deserves a disclaimer:
Every day, I am surrounded by people in my age group, who are just trying to survive, one day at a time. They are not to be judged, or thought ill of. They are people, like myself, and you who is reading this.
Never for a moment think that you are above someone suffering from addiction, or experimenting with drugs. They are human beings, just trying to survive as you are. Not every facet of life is the same, but we are all equal; human beings by design.