A garden state of mind

You know how I'm always talking about how I would punch myself in the face for this or that. Well guess who has a black eye?
Yeah, it's awesome.
This isn't my first one. My first B-eye, as I like to call it, came to me in college. I was home for Christmas break and I was really tired depressed and didn't want to go to this stupid family event that, basically no one wanted to go to. My older sister was left in charge of getting me and my two younger siblings to come and I was a mega bitch about getting up and going. Sleep, I love you man. But you get me into a lot of trouble, you know? I forgive you and all a that shit. But for real though, you is not muh fren. 
Long story short I got into a fist fight with one of my older sisters. It was surreal. I've been in plenty of fights before but I had seen my older brother smash her up when I was a kid so to be in the same room fighting with her was really tripping me out. I have a bit of the writer's detachment about me, you may have noticed. And I didn't hit her like at all until the very end,  until that point I was captain deflect-a-blow. But for some reason I just decided to hit her back and I punched her  four times in the face. I screamed, "I don't want to fight you!" and then I did a little dance, jabbed and jibbed, huffed and puffed and found myself thinking, shit--boxers really have to get their cardeo up and Rambo'in.
Respect.
That's when the detachement set in. I remember staring at the kitchen clock narrating in my head, and that's when I realized I had just punched my sister in the same room as---
-but at this point she starts talking over my aside and she's all, "Got a few good ones in, didn'tcha?"
Then she fucking punched me dead in my eye.
I saw stars.
I talked to my mom on the phone and she told me to leave town. So I hopped in the car with my band mate and we drove to Boston. My face was crazy. Blood swam across my eye like the way oil always does in the X-files when bitches be clones or whatever. And I interrupted my best friends on an acid trip. They were pretty freaked out.
I had called the cops before I left and said I wanted to press charges. I had changed my mind since the drive to Boston but they cops had their own agenda and even though I wrote and faxed a letter they wouldn't let me.
We didn't talk for ages. Now we're cool. Time takes time. Family is family. I love her and she's the funniest fucking person I know.  It was strange though because that was the term they made me a hall advisor. I had to go back to college and meet everyone's parents with a bashed up face like, hi, I'm the one they put in charge of your 18 year old, any questions?

Anyway, this is a lot less interesting.
I got hit in the face with a flying elbow. No one will ever believe that this could be an accident so I felt compelled to write about it.

In less related matters, I  just saw the Garden State. I've decided I really hate films about people's lives when they're not funny. Real life is sad and fucked up enough. I know enough dead people that I don't need to watch a film to feel something or to be moved. Stop making me! This is a warning to the whole blogging community.
If you ever want to watch a movie with me, and I don't need to dull my sense of perception with two or three beers, I don't want to see it.
Simple.
Dead out, if it isn't slapstick and predictable and contains no lines that will ever end up on a tee shirt, keep it movin--yer wasting my time. That being said, great sound track. Fuckin best thing to come out of Jersey, ever.
Just downloaded this song. I basically love this particular type of Youtube video. To think that a person spent hours in front of their computer arranging stock images and sifting through fonts.  It's almost more than I can take...BEER ME!