Open letter to Christian Dior

Dear Christian,
I hate you. My eyelashes hate you. You have stolen something from my reddened eye sockets; three layers of skin, they want them BACK! I am writing you this to let you know I will be discontinuing the purchase and use of your $36 "Dior Blackout Waterproof Mascara". When you think of waterproof, what comes to mind? When would you want to use such a product? When there is water/ and or liquid flying around your face and you would not be interested in resembling the girls that work at the Mac counter or a raccoon. Maybe if you plan on squirting a few tears: wedding, funeral, watching the notebook...etc. But regardless you either have the choice of spending $72 on two Dior mascaras one which does not prohibit emo black streams down your face and the other mascara that is just WAITING to fuck up your face or the choice to make a life changing decision to purchase only one. I think they should change the name of the second one to "Dior Blackout DARE". Dare you to fucking sneeze, Dare you to move your eyeballs or blink cause as soon as you do it seems as if your eyelids have slipped and fell into the ocean and now its a race across the English Channel to your chin. Or you could just buy one right? Cause you'll never know when PMS will kick in and its Niagara falls and Blackout all over your face. For some GOD AWFUL reason I decided to purchase the waterproof mascara. Was I raised by wolves? Was I beaten as a child? What mishap early on in life could have contributed to me making such a horrible, horrible decision. I don't know wtf happened but all I know is as I unsuspectingly applied its blackness to my eyelashes it was seeping in to my soul. I first noticed its devilry as I blinked when I was putting it on and it went under my eyes a little, no biggie right? Thinking I'd come back later and fix that shit after it was dry. So I continued driving and when I parked to go to my appointment I went to wipe it off. Nothing. Oh Okay, I'll grab a paper towel and put water on it and then wipe it off. Nothing. I rub harder. Nothing. What? A little harder, a new paper towel this time. Ow. Ow. Oww. What the...WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF FUCKERY IS THIS!!!!!! I fell on my knees waving my fist to the air, cursing Christian's name to the Gods. In writhing pain I drove home because despite my agonizing ten minute fight with the mascara on the battleground of my poor peepers, it only made the mess under my eyes worse and needless to say I looked a red-eyed hot pile of tranny mess and could not make my appointment. When I arrived back home, despite my best efforts and 6 pads of makeup removers, lotion, and a little elbow grease ( not to sure where it comes from or what it is), I couldn't get it off!!! Lost many eyelashes in my scuffle... brings a tear to my eyes even talking about it now. Shittttttt here we go. Anyways next time you try to sell a product such as this CHRISTIAN, how about offering a disclaimer: NOTE FROM SURGEON GENERAL: DO NOT BUY. Or maybe offer a coupon for $10 off a sandblaster to help remove excess mascara. bitch.

Disgusting Bitches

People who are too forth-giving scare the shit out of me. This is perhaps the tenth time this has happened to me, patiently waiting for my Starbucks and when asked what type of milk they would like in their latte or what not, the patron in front of me responds, "oh soy milk, I'm lactose intolerant." WHAT THE FUCK. Maybe you need to go to WebMD or pick up a book. Clearly you do not suffer from such an ailment or you would not be willing to give that information publicly to ANYONE. Or maybe you are just unaware that people know the symptoms of being lactose intolerant. Explosive Diarrhea anyone? DISGUSTING!!!! Good G-d, do you realize that everyone in Starbucks within a twenty foot radius now knows it possibly comes out of both ends in a projectile manner? It amazes me when people tell you this ever so nonchalantly, sick bitches.

Final Bitches

Finals. Not only finals but finals in worthless classes. Business calculus, 'nuff said. The letter "B" sends a shiver down my spine unless it is finished correctly with "-itch" at the end. Because we all know that my failure to learn (or be taught) derivatives correctly will end up some disaster of epic proportions. Planets will fall out of the sky, cats and dogs having babies, Michael Jackson will go back to being black, all sorts of crazy shit. My contribution to mathematics that I would have had later on in life will suffer, which could have one day calculated some sort of equation for world peace or the cure for bicyclists. The test is cumulative? Right, because I didn't understand it on the first test, you're gunna spank me cause I don't know it this time again. You do know that I have four other finals and you're still going to do this to me? But of course you already knew that. But at a private Christian school such as Pepperdine, its soooo much more than that. Its not only that I don't understand Business Calculus, in reality the devil has sucked my soul through my butt. "B-?!" Next thing you know they'll douse me with holy water and be compelling my soul by the power of Christ. And thats another thing...I actually get graded on my drawings of Jesus and other "reflections on Christ". I'm not bitching about that though, cause this bitch can draw a mean middle aged Jesus and I Aced that shit. Finals encourage the use of over the counter crack a.k.a. adderall, it can also induce insomnia and panic attacks. As well as a serious case of acne and weight gain for those who aren't cracked out and turn to a tub of Ben and Jerry's for comfort (fatties). I have bed sores from sitting in a cubicle, I kid you not. Oh and since when was the word "library", code word for loud-annoying-bitches? Take you're sewing circle elsewhere! I'm here to learn Calculus and enjoy it! It also forces semi-sane people like myself to go off the deep end, living solely off of gallons of iced coffee, packs of cigarettes and ONE jar of extra crunchy peanut butter for a week. I dare you to go up to someone who works for a "shmuisness" and inquire, "Do you know what the partial second derivative of 'x' is in respect to..." and before you can finish that sentence, the mofo will hit you with a fuckin' upper cut and a kick in the crotch. Then he'll begin to seize on the ground and as you go to help him off the ground, he then darts away screaming and ripping off all of his clothes. It's like they say about acid, after you take it you store all that crazy shit until you are reminded of it years later. I think my flashbacks will fall in place nicely sometime near my imminent middle aged crisis. 

A Bitch about Religion

This was sent in, a little bitchy rant about his bitch fight with religion. Insightful for those who say pooh-pooh on jebus. I for one, believe in G-d although he can put a bitch in her place sometimes, you know what I sayin'? But here she goes-->

By the time I was in 8th grade I had more or less come to the conclusion that religion was a complete farce. I had too many questions, and religion had an even more impressive list of ambiguous “answers”. These days I spend quite a bit of time bending my mind around the notion of religion, but more in it’s ability to blind and inhibit free thought and one’s own independence. Religion is a tool of conformity and a catalyst for a moral society. To me, religion is but an excuse for mankind’s unending pursuit of the impossible- for immortality, or to live forever. But nothing lives forever. Sure, religion could be plausible if the world was all that was, and ever would be. But it isn’t, and most people are too ignorant and concerned with their own lives to realize that, let alone think it. Imagine a galaxy as a pea, well there are enough galaxies, or peas, to fill a football stadium. Earth resides in the Milky Way, but one of those peas. How can life not exist on one planet of one other galaxy? We would be awfully selfish to think the contrary. Death is inevitable. Planets die, even stars. One day, in the distant future, our sun will burn out. Our sun is the most legitimate of all gods or religions. Without the sun, our or any existence would be impossible. Most Christians in America forget that other religions even exist, but in reality Muslims far outnumber believers in Jesus Christ. Who’s to say whose religion is the right one? Do you really believe that bad deeds will land you in Hell, a fiery inferno imbedded in the depths of Earth? Or do you believe in a utopia far above the clouds where you will reside for an eternity? Religion coincides directly with today’s society and it’s mantra. We work, work, work, but for what? To make as much green paper as possible to buy things we really don’t even need. The things that mean most in life cant be bought by paper, and if you haven’t learned that you have no business reading this. But hey, you’re going to heaven right? No. Think about life for one second without religion. Your treasure isn’t in heaven, it’s right here. Thoreau’s Walden made clear these thoughts that plagued my mind as a child. It all just didn’t make sense. As Thoreau said, “the life of a working man is a fool’s life, as he will realize once he gets to the end of it”. I’m not renouncing work, for I wouldn’t be anywhere without working, and I wouldn’t forfeit my education for anything. It’s education that landed me where I am today, and why I’m typing this now. The point is, that I’ll be damned if I get to the end of this life and wish I had done it any different, because this is my life and this is all I have. As Bob Dylan once said to a reporter, “What do we really know? Nothing. One day you will die and the world will go on without you. Now, how can you take anything you do seriously knowing that?” Simply put, I believe in the real and in what is tangible, not in the supernatural. If you see life the way I do, someone who worships and stakes their life on the belief of a man who had supernatural powers, is far crazier than I am. If anything, I only wish that people would think on a larger scale than that of their own lives, which are in essence, meaningless in the grand scheme of things. We are fed bullshit from the day we are born. If you go your whole life accepting and adopting the ideals bestowed upon you without questioning their origin, purpose, or legitimacy, you are an idiot. Thomas Paine (who saw science as the true theology), arguably had the greatest influence in pushing colonial America toward independence, and said, “I believe in the equality of man; and I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavoring to make our fellow-creatures happy.” Now, this is “religion”, or at least what it ought to be.

"Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?"
-Blair

Facebook Bitches

ATTN: Facebook and Myspace "models". No one cares, except me. I care because I know its not going to be good day if I haven't logged on to Facebook and been able to pop a few blood vessels in my eyes in choking uncontrollable laughter. You brighten up my day. I must say I'm jealous, I wont lie to you. I'm jealous that you have hours of free time in preparation for your iphoto-shoot and hours of free time to photoshop the shit out of it afterwards. I'm jealous that you have more friends than me or at least you think so for the reason that you use the amount of photo comments you get as an indicator of who you are. The oops-you-caught-me face isn't fooling anyone, your macbook doesn't accidentally take a picture of you in your bra and if it did, it would crack up in laughter and say, "hahahah I'm just kidding bitch, imma delete it. no one wants to see that shit". It'd be right. I mean I don't mean to be a bitch or anything, but if you like looking obnoxious in pictures or film, go get a job on the Disney channel or something.