Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

what number is this?

So I've been sick as a dog lately. I honestly thought I was going to die saturday night. All day I assumed that I was just taking an ungodly long time to recover from friday night and I just had a pesky hangover. Then around 4am that morning I developed a fever and though that death had just arrived for my soul. Long story short, I didn't die but I blew the interview I had monday morning. I suspect that they thought I was on drugs the way I was shivering but sweating perfusely and couldnt speak coherant sentences. Still sick 5 days later. I hate life and life hates me. But for future reference, if I do in fact die, I want a fight to the death over who will get my shit. Hand to hand combat, the way real men do it.


actually, this sort of reminds me of my room. But instead of animals, there are fruit flies.

Stupid Fuckers. There is no food in here!

Tuesday, October 10, 2006


You know what would be rad? If I could find my fucking tweezers. Yup, that would be fucking awesome.