Teh problems

This weekend should have been one of the most enjoyable in living memeory. On thursday, a package arrived from my auntie in the states that contained all sorts of easy to prepare and get fat from delicasies only foun in the USA, and on friday I finished off my last essay for a month, had ONE jug of tui at eastside, which I often find pretty difficult, had a good go at the crossword in the Dom post, went to town with my monies, had roti chanai, the tastiest spicy foodthing around and then spent $13 hiring out DVD's and I bought a book. The DVD's were:
Beserk, vol 5: the bloodiest anime around with funny outtakes
Trigun 3 + 7: I can watch this one out of order because I have seen them all before
Evangellion 1 + 2: Everyone knows Evangellion. Apart from me.
Billy connoly 200?: I forget what year it was, but Billy still funny.
And Scrubs, season three, my favorite TV seris ever.
Who wouldn't be happy with that? Sitting in bed, eating popcorn and Drinking Pepsi Max (To the EXTREEME! No, honestly, it doesn't taste too bad) all day. All of it.
But I had made one fatal error. Scrubs: Season three, while being really, really funny, is also hell depressing. That is because I have decided I am J.D., the main character of the show if you haven't seen Scrubs (SHAME!). Except for one or two differences, that I shall detail here,we are EXACTLY the same.
The diffences are:
J.D has:
- cooler hair than mine,
- better body,
- a kick arse soundtrack for his life,
- a job that doesn't make him want to strangle people,
- freinds who don't live a) up a mountain or b) in auckland
- a stuffed dog called 'rowdy' (mine is called Max and now lives in Japan)
- the ablity to fall over and not get hurt
- something to live for
- and, this is the most importaint one, for the whole of season three J.D. was sad because he had a woman who wanted to go and have sex with him all the time, but the woman he wanted to sex was sexing another man, but when J.D. asked the one he wanted to sex to stop sexing other people and sex him instead, she did and then he decided that he no longer wanted the sex.

And we are supposed to feel sorry for him.

Well, I'm sorry, Mr. J.D, but I have not had sex, nor anyone in my bed, for a year. I have not woken up next to anyone, not had a hug, no kiss, not even really been in a position to worry about these things happening to me, because although I think I am a decient example of humanliness, noone has show ANY inclination to do anyhting like that with me. In fact, the only person who has show any inclination towards anyhting like that lives 15,000 km away, and although we have broken up, this is still unlikely to change at any near juncture. So you can take your cool hair and 'oh my god I've got too much woman to know what to do with' attitude and just FUCK OFF.
so then I went out and bought myself a bottle of wine with the last of my money because, apparently, the only way I know how to deal with life is to drown it. That is why I am getting a counceling appointment. Goddamn. Goddamn indeed.

Here we go again.