Long Story Short

There is something about being a bitch that I just refuse to apologize for.
 (I wrote a whole post about this, but this one line basically sums it up.)

Hobo with a Shotgun

I want to share with everyone this little delight of a B movie that I found on Netflix thanks to some friends with an adventurous taste in films.  Granted, this movie was most likely made 1,000 times better because I watched it with a group of friends who pointed out things in the background, made funny comments, and asked questions that I might not have thought of.  Nevertheless, if you're bored on a Friday night & hanging out with some friends I suggest this movie.
It is, obviously, about a Hobo with a Shotgun.  Now, if that title doesn't interest you at all then I guess shy away from it.  But if you like funny quotes, fake blood, and righteous old man vigilantes who heal at unfathomable rates then this is for you.
Synopsis: A hobo gets of a train and goes into a town that is run by a family & it's crooked cops.  Seeing people pulled from the street and running over their heads with bumper cars is an average afternoon activity, along with rubbing your face in some cocaine with a few pals.  After a few unfortunate encounters the hobo decides that the money he's saved would be put to it's best use by buying a shotgun (that magically has unending ammo, by the way) and proceeds to take down the bullies of the town.
I won't spoil any more for you, you'll just have to watch.
And if that seat-gripping synopsis wasn't enough, here are a few quotes to light the fire I know you have under your ass to watch this movie:

"When life gives you razor blades, you make a baseball bat...with razor blades."

"Put the knife away kid...or I'll use it to cut welfare checks from your rotten skin!"
(In Response): "Well you better cut one to Mother Theresa, so you can give it to her while she's finger-banging you in hell!"

"Go the fuck home everybody!  And don't forget to wash your dicks!"

"They are going to make comics out of my hate-crimes!"

"You look so hot, I just want to cut off my dick and rub it against your titties."

These are just a few from IMDB (I made the mistake of not writing them down while watching the movie-how was I to know it was going to be so quotable?)
So if you end up watching it, let me know what you think & your favorite quote!

Loosing The Feeling of Feeling Unique

Somewhere between packing for college and putting together my dorm room I lost myself.
I'm determined to find me again.

I think the biggest sign of this loss is my choice of clothing.  I used to be up to date (in my own middle-of-nowhere way) and I would enjoy putting together clothes.  I loved finding new things in the store, and most of all I loved turning something I already owned into something completely different.  For example scarves become headbands, socks become leg warmers or things to make a bun out of.
I can't seem to do these things anymore and I'm not sure why.  I've become the girl who wears jeans and a t-shirt every day, all day.  Then I would become convinced that other girls that would wear just jeans and a t-shirt were wearing it much better than me.
A loss of confidence perhaps?
Maybe it's because my entire group of friends split and went different ways?
It could be something as simple as my closest is now split between home and school and it's causing the fashion version of writers block.

I'm determined to change this.  I'm planning on getting a job, saving up money, and spending the leftovers on things that will make me feel good again.
I got good grades, but I think I just can't feel accomplished until I am able to provide for myself and not rely on others for things.  Even my parents (who honestly can't afford to buy the nice kind of toilet paper right now--but that's a different story) can be no help when it comes to money.

It's not quite a new year's rez, but it'll do.  For now anyway;)

The New Year & My Way With Words

I wish I was in the mood to write an awesome post about the new year & how great 2012 was for me, but I'm not.
So with that I say hello 2013, I'll write my wishlist for you when I'm feeling less bitchy. I'd hate to start my new year off with resolutions like "become a loner because people are worthless," haha.
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Is Quoting Myself Narcissistic?

It's pretty hard to be funny in writing, especially for me.  When I make people laugh it's usually because I'm making a face/hand motion/action to go along with my words.  I also find it very hard to be funny on cue (which is yet another challenge of writing it all out), so if you find me funny from reading my blog, you're a beautiful angel who deserves an award.
Luckily for me, I have an awesome roommate who quotes me a good bit on twitter.  So I thought I'd do a quick little list of my favorite things I've said that she quoted me on (in order of least favorite to favorite).  Hopefully you'll get a taste of my sense of humor with words instead of writing for a change.

14. Hips are to thighs as jelly is to jello.
13. What if I put it on a t-shirt?  Would it still be depressing?
12. He looks like he just came out of uterus! He should NOT be holding a baby.
11. That's why Soprano singers get all the D.
10. I would not pop out a baby, I would pop out a brick.  It would not be pretty.
9.  ...which means I know where the SPCA is and I can go and pet fucking kittens! (Me on going home for a weekend).
8. My Friend: "Like a good neighbor state farm is there."  Me: "with an abortion kit!"
7. (in response to the previous one) I saw your mouth drop and I thought, oh no, I went to far.
6. Who would pick a child when you can have a dog?
5. He's wearing a mop on his head...except it's his hair.
4. I mean if someone spent the money on the alcohol, and then spent the money on the rufies, they'd hang on to that shit. (me on drinking mysterious alcohol found under bushes).
3. That's what's wrong with him; he's a smirker.  I don't like smirkers. (My take on Mitt Romney).
2. I have such pussy hands.  I got a blister from sharpening pencils once.
1. It was like someone stuck a cotton ball in my mouth...and then a fart. (Me on grapefruit).

You're welcome to follow me on twitter (although I'm no funnier there than I am here, promise): https://twitter.com/delrue77

My Holiday Heart-to-Heart

I'm going to tell you all a secret:  I'm really bad at keeping my own secrets.  You know how sometimes you're dared by your friends to "tell them something you've never told anyone?"  I never have one of those, because I share everything about myself.  The gross stuff, the sex stuff, all the times I fall up (and down) the stairs.  I have never done something interesting & not told at least one person.

Until now.  I recently did something stupid and it's a personal dare for me to keep it to myself.  However, since I don't know anyone personally who reads my blog, I'm thinking that writing about it won't break the dare.  Also, I think that it's a really good lesson.

I'm not afraid of my mistakes, which is good since I make a lot of them.  I'll blush and be embarrassed, but I'll own up to them, because in the end they're (usually) always a good thing.  That sounds very Yoda or Gandhi, but I swear it's the truth.  So when I told someone recently that I loved them knowing they didn't feel the same way, I at first considered it a mistake.  It was awkward and sad, but it was also possibly the most amazing thing I'd done in a long time.

My love for this person wasn't the right kind.  It was heavy and depressing, and it made me feel like I had an obsession instead of a romance.  I couldn't leave this poor guy alone (or more accurately, I couldn't stop sleeping with him).  I kept thinking, "if I stick around for just a little bit longer he'll want me.  He'll see how great I am."
Yeah, that didn't happen.
What it finally took was me telling him that I loved him.  I was passing this heavy weight of love from myself to him.  He was to walk away knowing that he's looking for something I already freely gave.  And you would think him not loving me back would make me sad, but it actually makes me feel better.  I gave everything I could and it wasn't enough.  What a sad man he must be to not find happiness with one of the most amazing things a person can offer.

So that's my secret, it doesn't seem like much on the internet, but my friends would shit a baby if they knew that I even contacted this guy again, much less told him I loved him.

So here's to no regrets, I loved, I lost, and I learned a lesson.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Gypsy Living

I'm tired
I've written of a love I'll never taste
A dried up tongue
From cutting up too many words
With my hate
With my haste

And I'm cold
My fingers frozen to the bones
Still they type away
Poems
That will never be read
Like Emily Dickenson
I'd rather be dead than publish

My secrets aren't dark
And they aren't anything new
But cut me open, and this
Is all that I am
A broken spirited disaster
With a splash of art
The one thing I can always love
That won't tear me apart

I am human, I bleed
I feel what others feel
My empathy knows no bounds
It vibrates off my skin
and pours out of my eyes
It floats until it finds it's way up
To some heaven beyond our skies

I hope to one day travel
I'd like to see the world
And I wonder what it'd make of me
A simple, vacant girl...
I've never felt quite whole
I'm only a half; a piece
I'm looking for some dirt from France
To complete the rest of me

I want to taste the accents
On the words that make me smile
And feel rain on my skin
That's traveled over desert miles
I just might give up love
If it meant a gypsy living
The only thing that stops me
Is fear of my own empty,
bitter ending.

Chest-bumps and Crowd Chants

I finally went to my first college football game yesterday.  Throughout this semester I'd requested three tickets, received all of them, even printed them out only to later decide that I didn't want to go to a damn football game.  My friends convinced me it would be fun, that I would just love it, so I went.

At first I was excited, everyone had such school spirit (something my high school had never managed).  The thought "I want to go to every football game for the rest of college" even crossed my mind.  That was quickly erased, however, as I remembered why I don't like football in the first place.

I don't have the attention span to watch that crap!  It goes on forever, and then a few days after that.  The chants got old, and after a certain point we were beating the other team to such an extent they weren't going to come back at all so to watch any more was pretty much irrelevant.   

I've decided that should I choose to go to another one in the future I should be solidly drunk, like all of the other people around me.  Then maybe I'll find men hitting each other with their bodies more entertaining.

P.S. 

Rugby is so much better.

Slut Talk

I'd like to address the issue of sluts.  I'm a "young woman" (19) and from the time I was in 7th grade to now, that word has gotten thrown a lot.  Sometimes it gets applied to someone who is not a slut, they just make other girls jealous.  And it is almost always applied to girls.  Never a guy.
So one of my questions is why do girls feel the need to judge other girls so harshly?  Why are we so competitive?  We feel the need to break other girls down by their actions or "wrong doing," but why?  There is ALWAYS going to be someone prettier than you, more fashionable, more everything.  Just accept that now and find some peace in it.
I also feel like everyone has a different definition of "slut," and that is another aspect of the frequent misuse of this word.  What's slutty to one person, might not be slutty to another.  To the Amish, shorts on girls (no matter the length) are probably thought of as whatever the Amish word for slut is.  Most american girls obviously don't feel that way.  Some girls embrace the word, on twitter they hashtag #teamslut and will openly admit it to anyone.  Yet this doesn't take away the fact that when called that in a fight or behind their back, it's hurtful and it usually pisses them off.
I honestly can't give my definition of a slut.  I guess it would be something like: a girl who openly degrades herself in public or elsewhere with a guy (ex: sex in public, not wearing pants, flashing people on purpose--not for beads).  But even that definition is more "slutty" than "slut."  I feel that one night you might drunkenly make a fool out of yourself, but that doesn't brand you a slut for life.  Does being a stripper make you a slut for life?  I don't feel that it does.
Would you call someone svelte?  No, because you don't know what it means (or probably how to say it), so WHY are we using the world slut?
So lets all put the word slut in our back pocket and use it sparingly or save it for jokes, instead of serious name calling.  At least until we have all agreed on a true meaning to the word.
Thank you.

Loose Change

My love is poisonous,
Like a snake in the grass.
No one ever survives.
No one can seem to get past.

My love is wrong,
Like a word written backwards.
Erase and repeat,
I never find what I seek.

My love is a waste,
Laid wreckage from a war
No one will take it,
No one wants me anymore.

My love is loose change,
At the bottom of a cup,
Sticky and messy,
And all used up.

I never ask for love back.
No romantic woe.
That's why I loose so much;
I'm the only one to let it go.

Because my love isn't free,
It comes at a cost:
A part of my heart
For each lover lost.

It sounds dramatic,
A bit overdone.
But that's the bite of love
The price of losing someone.

My love doesn't fight,
It sits and remembers.
My love doesn't ignite,
It's just flameless embers.


Clearly I'm feeling like a big, bright ball of sunshit.  It's two in the morning, I have class tomorrow, and I just want a giant cheeseburger.
I'm sorry for being so sappy, I really do have a relatively good opinion of myself.  I just can't seem to get anyone to think I'm good enough to keep around and it's damn frustrating.  I wish I could stop trying, but I'm one of those pushy never-give-up bitches.  Let's get a round of applause for my gene pool when it comes to those traits.
Have a smashing night, and a blessed day.