Go fuck yourself San Diego

Ron Burgandy said it best. And yes that means I'm finally leaving this festering sore on civilizations ass. It feels like everytime I leave base, I find new and more annoying reasons to hate california. The other day I had to drive a friend in my unit up to some upscale pretentious sports bar in Laguna Beach where he had left his credit card after a particularly drunken outing. I didn't think too much of it, though I'm sure my brain was making some sort of connection between those annoying TV shows on MTV and the name Laguna Beach. Well anyways... it was by far the most annoyingly pretentious fag hole I've ever walked in. So after admiring their VIP section (lie, sports bars shouldn't have a VIP section for obvious reasons) and standing around trying not to accidently touch someone, lest their special brand of retardation rub off on me. I had another revalation. I saw this strange but easily identifiable link, between the perfectly coifed fags in that sports bar, and the losers who never left my nasty home town. I'm still trying to put my finger on exactly what it is. Of course I detest both groups of people, but I think it had something more to do with living shallow meaningless little lives. Yes the people from my home town are poor white trash, and the fags in that bar were wanna be hollywood socialites, but they both came up lacking to me. I guess it doesn't really matter where you're born, certain people are just going to come up lacking. Eh... it doens't really matter to me. The one tie I had to my home state is quickly coming undone. Looks like I'll be traveling on when I get home agian. Though it's not really home if you don't care about it anymore. Eh fuck it. To finish my story, I pulled a play out of my friend Will's notebook, and walked over to the juke box and put on some 3 Inches of Blood before I left. Everyone knows uptight socialites love pirate metal.