People who constantly edit their photos & profiles on Friendster depress the living shit out of me. It depresses the living shit out of me when I do it.
When I am depressed there is nothing that will help. I mean, this helps a little. Reading the Internet doesn't help. All it is these days is bloggers telling everyone what they thought of that Michael Moore movie. I'd like to tell you what I think of that movie too, but I'd feel pretty silly about it, wouldn't I, being the eight-thousandth person to do so?
The other thing that depresses me is that I found out Drew Barrymore has a dog named Flossie. Flossie is the name of my future dachshund. It doesn't matter to me that I don't have a dachshund yet, & that Drew has had Flossie (a non-dachshund) for at least three years. It doesn't even matter to me that I originally stole the name Flossie from Nabokov's autobiography. I still feel that Drew stole the name from me.
What probably will help tho, is that tonite I'm going to see Live Girls!!!! at Trash. I adore seeing Live Girls!!! under any circumstances but even more fortunately I'm going to have pulchritudinous (i.e., hot) company at the show. I'm going to try my hardest to not be shitty to be around, for his sake. He's been very nice to me even when I haven't tried hard enough.
PG Wodehouse had a dachshund too. His name was Bertie. That doesn't depress me a bit.
