Fuck the Academy Awards

My brain has run dry. I feel totally worthless when it comes to writing these days. Not even a single thought comes to mind.

So i am just going to write. Or type, because if I wrote on my computer, Mark would kill me. That and if i were to start writing in a journal, it would turn into a list of shit to do today, and, it being Sunday, I do not want to do shit today. 

One thing I have been thinking about is how much I hate the Academy Awards. I have my reasons:

-I really don't like movies. My attention span isn't long enough to sit through a film.

-Actors bug the shit out of me. They are crazy ass motherfuckers who wouldn't know reality from a script if their lives depended upon it, so there is that.

-Hollywood gets all crazy like 2 months beforehand and will tow the shit out of your car if you park  anywhere near the Kodak. And by anywhere near the Kodak, I'm talking Sunset & Ivar. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT BULLSHIT?!

I only wanted to go to the Hollywood Farmer's Market, and this was before they started offering paid parking options. I swear all I needed to get was a bunch of beets and then head back to K-Town. 

I was delighted to find a mater just around the corner from the market, and I didn't have to pay because it was Sunday. I parked, bought my veg and went back to Nick's automobile...but it wasn't there. That is when I saw the BIG & OBVIOUS signage informing people that their precious cars would get towed if they parked there...2 weeks before the damn Oscars. 

I was pissed as Hell. I took the train back to the apartment, dropped off the vegetables and informed Nick that his car had been towed, which lead him to cussing me out for a good 20 minutes before we called the impound lot and located his precious fucking car.

Long story short, he got his car back, but not after shelling out around $200.

So, dear Academy Awards, you can eat a dick.