goodgoddamn i love wine. ESPECIALLY served in a lame fishbowlish glass, with greasy deep dish pizza and a cheap-ass game of texas on every one of the 37 televisions within distracting after distracting view.
i am so fucking classy.
we could have chatted about our failure of a non-proportional, disasterish electoral system and subsequent harpernomics landslide into arts cuts and corporate blowjobbing and 3 more years of an intrusive bullshit war in afghanistan...
we could have chatted about our imploding global economic instability, poetically aggravated by our november contract end date. This possibly could have lead to a provocatively rampant display of anti-capitalist "damn the man" broohaha-ing and the paralyzing acknowledgment of our looming financial crises...
we could even have chatted about canadian activist maude barlow's appointment as the UN's first senior advisor on water issues. or the recent syrian-canadian "terrorist" cases. or the first ever queer film festival deliciously gracing the progressive parts of the uwo campus this weekend...
but no.
we end up bitching about our self-prescribed, psycho-social dysfunctions and my PTSD-inducing gynecological visit.
i just love that twenty-something angst.
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