Something about crippling depression, finals week, and constantly being surrounded by inbred jackholes can really suck the funny right out of you.
Luckily, I don’t really care, and you’re going to be subjected to my shit regardless.
On that note, welcome to another edition of “this isn’t completely terrible“, with me, Kim.
Like I was telling some dear friends recently, after inhaling far too much gasoline fumes and spending far too much time in the hot, hot sun (just like OMC says), I hate myself, but generally, I hate other people more, so it looks like I still have some semblance of self-esteem.
Which is probably what propels me to do things like to go cafes with names like Bourgeois Pig. Located in breathtaking Hollywood, California, right across the street from what I believe is the Scientology Celebrity Center*, the Bourgeois Pig serves coffee, pastries, and cafe food. It’s obviously way too blue-blooded for me (it’s in the name, for Christ’s sake), but I go there anyway because it reaffirms everything I hate about Los Angeles while simultaneously serving me delicious drinks and intriguing eye candy, both in human and decorative form. It’s really a win-win situation. But you don’t have to trust me, I’m not the only one raving about it. User Sir Felgar on the Zagat website exclaims,
Way overpriced and somehwat[sic] pretentious(.)
Which is cool, because that’s what all my Johns tend to say about me. Not to leave any doubt about the place, CarolS0256 adds:
It could be cleaner.