Osama Died.

I found out through Facebook. I spent about an hour, looking at Tumblr posts about it.
There were a couple of memorable ones. One about, open, gays in the military & Osama being found, within months of eachother. Another, about how we shouldve cloned him, to massacre at every super bowl half-time. Yeah. The celebration of a death is uhhhh, very American.

 It's around 11:43, as I'm writing this. I just washed my face. My hair wreaks of the 8,000 cigarettes I've encountered, in the past 72+ hours. Kids these days. I watching this one chick smoke, & it dawned on me: Who the fuck are we? Why are we doing this? 
Seriously? Why are you smoking s cigarette? Do you really like it? I'm pretty sure the same girl I'm looking at, was the same girl, 6 years younger, choking out how disgusting it tasted. I just smell conformity, when someone smokes a puff, sometimes. It sounds judgmental, as the fuck. 

It's been a ridiculous week. Like. Ridiculous. I'll spill, later.