I'm currently obsessed with this:

Okay that's about it for tonight! I have a legal research class at 9 in the morning tomorrow and right now I kind of hate law school. But don't worry I'll prolly like it again in like an hour or so. BIPOLAR ALERT!!!
love
katie

Well, I had a delightful night of reading ultra-conservative Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia's opinions about homosexual sodomy and why gay men behave like animals and should be locked up in jail for a million years and shamed in the streets. After 15 hours at school today I had to ask myself, "Katie, is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life? Read the meandering tomes of some self-hating, possibly-closeted homophobe that obsessively fixates on the private sexual relations of consensual adults in their own homes?" I guess that the answer is yes, my friends, because that's currently what I'm doing and will be doing for the rest of my life. Some would say that Antonin Scalia is the Biggest Homophobe In The Universe, but there are a couple of dudes from my hometown that could give him a run for his money in that department. A wise man once said that ignorance is bliss, but it doesn't seem so blissful to sit around pounding Bud Lite and getting all angry about gay dudes while polishing rifles at the hunting shack during "Guys Weekend." Just fuck each other already and give us a break with the hate speech.
B t dubs, here's a link to Scalia's diatribe about gay sex:

http://www.orthodoxytoday.org/articles2/ScaliaLawrenceDissent.shtml

Anyway.
We have a new president and everyone else in the country is celebrating because our new leader definitely does not have Down's Syndrome or "wet brain" from years of alcoholism and he was never a cheerleader or in the Skull and Bones Society that tortured fellow classmates in very humiliating ways! Our new president doesn't talk down to the American people like we're a bunch of gas-huffing NASCAR enthusiasts! America might possibly no longer be on the constant brink of utmost disaster! I personally would be dancing in the streets if I wasn't so fucking exhausted from hauling 11 hundred pounds of law books around like a fucking martyr. Hey, I'm doing this for the poor folks that I will somehow save after I get my law degree! Feel sorry for me RIGHT NOW! Or maybe I'm feeling sorry for myself enough to make up for the entire population of America? Eh, whatever. I'm drinking wine.
That reminds me to thank my number one inspiration, Jesus Christ, for inventing wine in the first place! Hooray for Jesus! Now, if only I could learn how to make wine from water myself I could stretch these law school student loans that much farther? Jesus, I implore you, what is the water-to-wine recipe because I am THIRSTY, am I right?
Also, what's up with Dick Cheney in the wheelchair today? He just wants attention, am I right?!!
Here's a picture of me on an airplane, I'm going to bed now goodnight!

love
katie

Here's a couple of things:
First of all, I've been such a pajamas wearing slob over the past two weeks that my seemingly-endless supply of clean pajama pants has run out. Every single year for the past ten years I've received like five pairs of flannel jammies from Santa. So, that's like 50 sets of pajamas. But I haven't taken the time or energy to actually change in to "street clothes" for so long that I don't even wear the same pants size anymore and didn't notice that until today. Looks like it's time to emerge from the Bell Jar and become a productive member of society that actually leaves the house wearing regular pants! Bummer!
Second of all, my dad's down in DC for the Inauguration festivities, and I'm sort of worried about him. He's always had a debilitating claustrophobia when dealing with massive crowds of people. I mean, the crowds don't even have to be that massive. Once when he was visiting me in Dublin, while I was working at a super smoky and crowded club, he had to leave because he said that the situation made him feel like he was "tripping on acid, what with all of the people crammed in there. Aren't there enforced fire codes here? I have to get out of here NOW." I get that from him. It must be a DNA thing. The very idea of being surrounded by millions of screaming people makes me feel like I'm the star of a very elaborate and terrifying Hollywood horror film. Like, being in Times Square for New Year's Eve? Gross, no thanks! Too many people, too many strangers' bad breath, and we can't even go to the bathroom like civilized people. Please someone fetch me a paper bag so that I can do some hyperventilating and ruin everyone else's good times already! Some folks are really happy to "be a part of our nation's history," but I'd rather be trapped in a prison cell than amid a crowd of prostrated devotees of whatever we're cheering for, because at least in jail there's a toilet and a small amount of personal space.
Third of all, yes, maybe I'm a bit jealous of the people that are in DC right now but there's a definite possibility that I'd have the mother of all panic attacks if I was there. This is one of the issues that I will deal with some day! God, just get over it you guys!
I'm going to bed now. I just drank a glass of milk, but don't worry, it was organic milk, so it didn't have any bovine bodily fluids in it like bile and snot and period blood that regular non-organic milk contains.
And, as always, thanks for reading my blog!
love
katie

(this is a photo of former DC mayor Marion Barry. He was caught smoking crack with several hookers in a hotel room, and then after that the citizens of DC reelected him. That's how fucked up the District of Columbia is!)

Advice about how to give your cat a hair cut, from a very reputable internet source:

DO NOT USE SCISSORS TO CUT A CATS HAIR! This is especially dangerous to try when cutting out mats. Sometimes mats can be extremely close to the skin. I used to work as a vet tech and saw this happen more than once. An owner, meaning well, tried to cut the mat out with scissors and cut right through the cat's skin and it literally leaves a huge open hole in the skin. A cat's skin is extremely delicate- like tissue paper. For mats your best bet is to take to a professional groomer who has experience with cats and who is fast and have them clipped. .

Instead, just buy a cat that looks like this:

Actually, no one should buy a cat that looks like this because it's haunting and spooky and looks less like an animal and more like a handful of turkey sausage, but a handful of turkey sausage that has eyes and claws. YUCK.

Dear My Future Children,
I will never make you do this:

I don't care how much money that you will win at the pageant or how much I need attention at that point, being a fat mom with stretch marks and bad, permed hair. You can play in the sand box instead!
Love
Katie

Dudes:
Everyone is super pumped about the Inauguration of our new president! Yippee!! Let's all go to DC and raise hell for the new administration! Let's go to the Lincoln Memorial and scream and scream our heads off at Bono and his self-important bullshit! Hooray!!!
My dad's there now and has learned how to text on his cell phone. Today he wrote, "Wassup dog. . .diggin' DC." What's that all about? He's 63 years old and barely knows how to email people. Like, he understands the technology of emailing people but says that emailing is a trite form of conversation, it's too cheery and superficial, he doesn't really know what to say. But now he's all about texting and vernacular associated with it.
Anyway, I'm pissed that I spent all day at fucking law school, studying about "original jurisdiction" and "hung juries" and a bunch of civil procedure that I simply do not understand. The case book is like reading a really boring and extensive set of instructions for a terrible board game in which no one understands and decides not to play at a dinner party. It's the most uninspiring book that I've ever read, except for maybe "Tuesdays with Morrie." (Actually I didn't read "Tuesdays with Morrie", I fell asleep reading the book cover at the airport. Security had to wake me up with smelling salts, right there on the floor of the bookstore at O'Hare. Embarrassing!) So, while everyone else in the country is crammed into DC for this historic occasion, or at various sports bars watching the last remaining games of this NFL season, I spent 10 hours at school trying to make some sense of intricate legal doctrine after a month of smoking pot and sleeping and binge drinking. My brain doesn't work anymore and it's just depressing.
This is my new blog, by the way! I am still as bitter as ever!
So, my friends, let's live it up on the internet! Real life is for Red Cross volunteers in 3rd world countries and prison inmates and the Amish. They don't have access to computers! Their lives suck even more than mine sucks!

p.s. This fucking retard is soon gonna pratfall and giggle and shrug his way back to Texas. Thank heaven for small favors!

Welcome to Tragic Hayrides!

I'll be updating this as much as I can muster.
There will be news about George W Bush and his weepy father (George HW Bush) that's going through his first stages of dementia, there will be updates about Condi Rice and how much I hate her, there will be laughter, there will be tears, there will be news about children's beauty pageants, like this one!:

love,
katie

Last night my parents and I went to see "Seven Pounds," starring America's Favorite Black Man (besides, obviously, Barack Obama) Will Smith. It was a totally shitty and confusing movie, I blame it on bad editing and, more importantly, a bad script. About fifteen minutes into it, after a series of disorienting and borderline incoherent plot points, I was like "wait, what?" I understand when a screenwriter gets all deep and cryptic, like with "Babel" and "Michael Clayton" and all of those recent classy Oscar movies that try to shake up the classic screenplay format. They're all trying to be Fellini or something. But, "Seven Pounds" was just poorly made. Missed the mark completely. No connection of dots to speak of. A person of average intelligence can tell that from the trailer:

Seriously, WHAT IS THIS MOVIE ABOUT? I still don't know, and I saw it!
While we were in the movie theater a black guy in his mid-20's and his girlfriend totally fell asleep like two minutes into the movie, and they loudly snored through the whole thing. He woke up long enough to burp at one point, then went right back to the snorin'. It was the icing on the cake of boredom, the punctuation of the joke why this movie seems so bad. It is BAD. My mom and dad and I still cried at the end, though. People died at the end!
"Seven Pounds" gets one star. For the whole making-us-cry thing.