Events…all events…that I see pictures of celebrities at…no matter how low level that celebrity is…remind me of how insignificant I am…because I was never sent an invite…even though I wouldn’t have gone…not because I am too cool to attend events…but because I don’t like leaving my house…or as I like to call it…my pile of filth…the coffin in which I self destruct…but it’d still be nice to get the invite…you know to be a little less like every birthday party in elementary school I didn’t make the cut for….something I am used to…and a lot more like that stamp of approval I need for my self esteem….from society….and the people who really matter like leaches and latch ons…and scenesters…and social climbers…who aim to attach themselves to…cuz they think you are relelvant or the next big thing…cuz you are at the right place with all the right people according to themn…..I need these vapid empty people in fashion to like me…for me to feel like I matter….I’m being sarcastic….I’m just happy lookin at the pics from the comfort of my soiled couch…next to my unshowered, cheese smelling, wife.