It is truly a laborious task to write something that appeals to people other than myself.
I think I’m totally funny, folks…I make myself LAUGH OUT LOUD when I’m alone. “Hahaha Sylvia! You are so funny!” and I reply, “Why thank you, Sylvia, I think you are funny too!“
But no one thinks my ingenuity is very entertaining. I can tell by the LACK O’ COMMENTS…pigs who write about pooping in the grass get more props than I do. I get the hint. You all want me to write about my weekend, don’t you? Conform to blogging’s LOWEST SOCIAL STANDARD and completely ignore the brilliance that is found in hating on society.
Fine. Here.
I woke up, and ran to the mall to get my eyebrows done—only to find that the geniuses who run the salon double-booked me with a hair appointment. The hairdresser/eyebrow person told the receptionist to wax my eyebrows instead—to which the receptionist said, “I’ve never waxed eyebrows before!” And to my utter disgust and disbelief, the hairdresser/eyebrow person replied, “Neither have I.”
Took my eyebrows and ran to another salon. Made an appointment for 1:00. Went home, had a milkshake, took a nap. Got up, got my eyebrows done (one turned out crooked), and went to the gym. Worked out. Felt good. Ate sushi for dinner. Studied. Got green milk tea during a break. Went home. Wrote on Xanga about how I don’t get eprops even though I totally deserve them.
Now, if I get a gazillion eprops for this entry I’m going to quit Xanga and commit myself to an asylum. If I get none, I’ll feel totally invigorated and it’ll re-establish my hope that there is still a chance that the Xanga public has some taste.
Wer-wer.
absolutangel64 
HAHAHAHAH loser. yeah i hate those kind of entries. miss u!
I think you are totally funny … but then I do the same thing with regards to talking to myself after writing. I even reread it later with glowing approval of my writing prowess and crystal clarity of thoughts presented. I thought I was the next Kazuo Ishiguro (The Unconsoled) or Hermann Hesse (Glass Bead Game) … I am just way ahead of my times and my collected fragments will be celebrated posthumously worldwide and maidens will commit suicide over my grave … The sad part is I am just way behind on the timeline to be recognized as any more than a curiosity of a bygone age.