Fuck Titles; I Hate Them

So, I've been getting all existential lately, and it's weirding me out. And people keep fucking me over.
Example:
I was reading Descartes the other day, and I was like, "This dude really gets it!" We could have been soul mates, or something. Then he got weird, and I got depressed. Why is it that when I finally find someone who thinks along the same lines as me, and who would totally "get" me, that person has to take it one step further and turn into a complete freak?
Also:
I came to the realization that even if there is a god, it doesn't matter (for reasons that I'll go into later, if I ever get around to posting my fuck-god-and-the-world paper). So- why am I stressing out over the possibility of there being a god? WHY? God, damnit.

History has been made today.

For the first time...

EVER...

Someone managed to stick me with a needle and get it right the first time. I know- crazy. Moron-lady stabbed me, and the blood not only came out, it went into the tube, too! I'm really excited. Maybe I do have actual veins. It's a heartening thought- in elementary school P.E, I was always that kid on whom nobody could find a pulse. It's nice to think that maybe I am alive, after all (provided my senses aren't fooling me, or anything).

Alright, this is a weak post. My life has been somewhat boring as of late. I figure that's a good thing, though.

Oh! Finally got my car home from the asshole state of Pennsylvania this past Sunday. And after driving it all the way home, when I needed to go out to Glenelg the next morning, lo and behold, it was dead.

And here's another thing: I have just vacuumed my carpet for what I believe to be the sixth or seventh time today. Why is it that after vacuuming the rug thoroughly, visually inspecting every inch of that damn thing to be sure I have missed nothing, and replacing the vacuum in its usual spot, I turn around three seconds later and I find more shit to vacuum? WHY?

Why does God hate me?

Oh, yes.

Because I hate him.

Well, fuck you, God.