being alive is where its motherfucking at

This might seem like an ironic platform, but i need to get something off my ever-decreasing chest. i fucking hate the internet. i want to tear its face off using a small cactus and my diamond ring. every day i come into work and am inundated with pictures of young girls in colorful outfits who have more money to spend on that shit than i do and as a direct result, look way better than me! its demoralizing, to say the least. the internet can only be found on computers and handheld stupidity devices, two things i cannot fucking stand. the internet hates words and loves pictures and i guess thats ok but i still want to pretend it doesn't exist a lot of the time. it tells me too much! i don't need to know most things the internet wants me to know, or at least the bullshit stuff i have to look at for my bullshit job. god i hate fashion now. i hate fashion almost as much as i hate the internet. you can see my issue with my current position (www.stylesightings.com), a blog (on the internet!) about fashion. god. kill me. all i want to do is drink tea and smoke pot and hang out outside, maybe write the great american novel or have some kids or at least a vaguely amusing collection of short stories. fuck. right now i'm not writing shit besides my stupid blog, which doesn't really even count as writing. ridic. i need someone to give me a shitton of money so i can get my life back from those bastards at sallie mae and live my fucking life. jesus fuck.