The illusion that we have a wall

Today my cousin rang me up and told me about my exclusion from a certain party that a certain dick is having. All I have to say is that I don't understand why boys talk to girls who live in a house with a person of significance, and think that girls aren't going to talk. Or maybe they want girls to talk and swoon more over the rippling pectorals, or lack there of, that they are missing.

I have rules of attraction now:
1. Do not become interested in anyone who describes themselves as 'a former whore.'
2. Do not date anyone who thinks that you need tattoos to be pretty.
3. Do not go past more than 3 courtesy kisses if boy is a bad kisser.
4. Do not have a drunken one night stand because the King of Pop died. EVER.
5. Do not date anyone whose ego is bigger than their dick.
6. Do not date anyone who make you pay all the time.
7. Do not be charmed by cute smiles.
8. Build a wall. Build three walls around yourself.
....to be amended accordingly.

I've been meaning to write for a while about the 'Steve Stifler Paradox.' Steve Stifler is a total dick. He is one of the main characters in the American Pie series of movies. I find him devastatingly adoarble. But why? Purdue University is filled with fratty douches a la Stifler, and I usually threaten those guys with unnecessary violence or make fun of them. Why do I think Stifler is so cute? It makes me doubt my judgement, but if anyone pays any attention to the 'swill-merchant' things I write, I shouldn't trust my judgement.

Weird.

Mary Ellen and Meg stayed with me last night. Meg did a car bomb in less that two seconds, and I was thoroughly impressed. That small blonde girl packs a punch. It was nice to see my girls, my real college pals, for once this summer. Nothing like talking about things that need to be addressed with people who care about you. I am appreciative of all of my friends, no matter how far away they may be.

Never let go of anything you cannot go a day without thinking about.