The legal drugs.

If you ever feel like you want to extend the feeling of being at the ass end of a weekend-long drug binge without having to deal with any of the inefficient euphoria and hallucinations a drug binge entails, I would suggest you check out Lexapro. It's a cunning little anti-anxiety/depression drug that does its work by distracting you from the second-to-second dread of existence by giving you painful non-stop jaw clenching and dreams that your pillows are made out of squirming masses of algae that may or may not be alien and may or may not be somehow risen from the dead. I have my reasons for never becoming a strung-out coke whore who's cross-addicted to PCP, but there's apparently no reason why my lifestyle choices should keep me from feeling like one.

Have you stopped caring yet?

If you're really curious about what I've been up to, you can just read Hopper's blog and you can get an actually not-too-bad idea of what I do. I'm like the co-star in her sitcom. Eventually I would like to be the Very Special Guest on a Very Special Episode of the Internet. I can give the Internet a lecture on why it doesn't need crystal meth to feel good about itself or why it should man up and pay for its girlfriend's abortion. One day.
Last night's Farewell (Temporarily, At Least) To Drinking was a total letdown. I have to start taking pills so I can start going outside without feeling massively uncomfortable, and these pills mean that I can't drink. The big blowout involved me sitting at the bar, almost too tired and too bored to lift the glass to my mouth. I drank some fancy tequila in my apartment, but that was mostly because I felt I had to.

Dead battery on the dirty desk.

Dear Livejournal,
My laptop battery is dead. I am about a week behind in my internet porn viewing. There is a mathematical model that proves that once you fall behind 8 or more successive days on internet porn, it is mathematically impossible for you to catch up, so I guess I'm basically screwed. Thanks computer. Thanks, math.