the joys of throwing garbage

The guys in my socials class have discovered that throwing the garbage they find in their desks at each other is entertaining.
Shoot me now.
Also, they have rekindled their love of paper airplanes.

Yesterday I went to the ballpark to watch my sister's friends play. They're about eleven, I guess and at the end of the game, they lined up by the other team's dugout, made a tunnel with their hands and chanted "We are proud of you! We are proud of you!" while the other team retreated to their dugout under the hands. It was one of the most disturbing sights I'd ever seen.

I went to the library yesterday and I got Jack Kerouac's "On The Road" and I'm looking forward to reading it. I'm into the Beat Generation. Not nearly as much as the Love Generation, but I dig it.

I'm really sick of celebrity pregnancies (coughkatieholmescough). They take up too much space in People magazine and, frankly, I really don't care. Whatever happened to the good old fashioned affairs? Have we abandoned this for morning sickness and nannies? The only interesting part is when they actually have the baby and name it. Then it gets a bit interesting, until you hear the name and then once you know it, it's not interesting anymore.

Speaking of this, what has happened to celebrity baby names? They SUCK! "Moses", "Suri"? What happened to "God" and "Hongo Ishi" (Native American for 'mushroom man')?? Surely the world has been going downhill since the 60s. Look where we are now.

James Gurley, proud father of little Hongo Ishi. Oh, how sad. It's so blurry.

"Canada's Next Top Model" starts tonight. Yesss, Canadian reality show rip offs rock. In a pathetic way.