What good are big boobs if no one wants to touch 'em? Feel free to ignore this entirely.

Actually several people have expressed a desire to Touch the Boobs but I'm certain it was all in jest. Stupid jest.

I started listening to Christmas early this year. Ridiculously early actually, I think I downloaded something by Il Divo in October. Shut up. And I'm sitting here listening to it in my robe and I can't help but think about all the things I wish were different. Yes Christmas music can make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside but it is also incredibly depressing. Oh Bing, I'm dreaming of a White Christmas too.

What if I were smarter? Like undeniably brilliant. 'Cause I'm not about to start walking into walls (actually, I've already done that) or leaving all my shoes untied but I'm no Einstein. I'm not the even the Einstein of history and I can name about six people in ONE class that are at least 3 times smarter than I am. Perhaps if I were smarter some gorgeous, British professor with big blue eyes and a PhD from FRIGGEN OXFORD would be interested in the Tonebank. He actually exists and he really is beautiful and similarly inclined politically (to myself) and he must be well read because I've never met an academic who didn't like books. I had him for History 1010 and made him laugh one time. Then I went to his office and cried when I asked for an extension because I hadn't slept at all the night before and had to go home for a funeral. Even the fantasy was ruined after that.

As it stands I'm going to go home for Christmas and STILL be the ugly cousin with no significant other and I'm not even outstanding in the brain department anymore. Stupid mediocrity.

I'm lonely and school sucks and I'm not sure which came first or if they are simply two vortexs of doom that are feeding off of each other.

Maybe I'll listening to some Kanye West. I think something is definitely off when rhyming about black oppression is more uplifting than Silent Night.