Damnit

And now I'm off of said shit, goodbye pink sleepy juice, and I can't fucking sleep. Being able to sleep was the one good thing. The Ativan isn't helping, and the shrink won't give me sleeping pills. He's more concerned that the addict in me not be given a buzz than the patient in me be helped. Motherfucker.

I live in Indianapolis. The Colts won the Superbowl. Where the fuck is the looting? I had it all worked out:

  1. Loot a large pharmacy.

  2. Loot at least one jewelry store. I don't have any real jewelry and I'm tired of my future father in law's fiancee waving that damn three carat princess cut boulder around.

  3. Loot several coin shops. Why? Because I collect coins, and that would help me get up the capital to make enough money to live off of buying and selling them.

  4. Loot something with a lot of food that doesn't go bad for a long time, and stock up. Then loot a store that has top shelf food, whenever it goes bad.

  5. Go to the methadone clinic and see if anyone missed anything, and the reason this isn't first is I want nothing to do with the gun toting crazed junkies that are waiting outside the clinic (which they do every night, they start forming a line at about 8 PM the night before! It doesn't open untill 4:45 AM and it closes at 12:30PM!)

  6. Go to a bigass Blockbuster, focusing especially on getting a copy of The Science of Sleep.

  7. Keystone Fashion Mall. I need clothes. A third of my clothes are too big, a quarter of them are to small, and another quarter of them were stolen by my dipshit blonde cunt-for-sale ex roommate. (Am I talking about you? If you've never been faithful to a single person you've been with, and you lie alot, yes, you.)

Stupid Indianapolisians. Don't even know how to take advantage of an opportunity.