I hate you thesis

Such bombast is rarely true. For example, I don't ?????? as I find it hard to hate anyone or anything I don't personally know. If I were to say about someone I know, "I hate you" (I haven't done so since I was wee tyke), it would be just as much an expression of my affection for that person as my displeasure. Why? Because in that context, "I hate you" would likely be a reaction to an offense I felt was caused by someone I cared about. For people I don't know, in whom I have nothing invested, hate isn't worth the effort. So, I don't really hate my thesis (indeed, I've had a lot of fun working on it today), but it is St. Patrick's day and I am still working on it, so, "I hate you thesis." I should be out at a bar smugly making derisive comments about green beer while I sip my creamy nitro pumped Irish brew, drinking Irish car bombs, taking my yearly oppurtunity to do the frat-boy thing and say "kiss me 'cause I'm Irish". Of course, I'm not really Irish, except by adoption, but I think my Scottish and Welsh heritage gives me due claim to patriotic revelry on this day of Irish pride. You see, as a descendant of two parts of the subjugated Celts, I feel a kindred link to my Irish brethren, and the literary critic in me might say that my positive presence implies my absent brother, but then I might get kicked out of the bar, so I'll just have a few shots of Redbreast and order another pint of Kilkenny. Moreover, we Scots and Welshman have nary a holiday to call our own. There is the undercelebrated Robbie Burns day (January 25th) for the Scots among us, but few of us actually like Haggis, and too many people don't enjoy whiskey.

All I have to console me is my pathetic can of Rockstar and a cold burrito. I hate you thesis.

(Oh, and I have Cat Power, but I should probably stop listening to it as it brings me to tears.)