yeah!
it's the beginning of the week and i feel sore with all the sorting, packing, lifting, dragging, hauling, unloading, unpacking, re-sorting, cleaning, mopping, dusting, and eating 48 buns of cinnamon bread over the past four weekends.
yes, ladies and freaks, we're moving into a new place by friday. and may i just say-
goddamn! it's fucking exhausting! i never knew i had that much junk in the closet. old ids, a gazillion types of cards, birthday presents i never got to use (what? you don't suggest i start using 8-color crayola sets now, do you?), uneaten slices of pizza... shit, i've got everything i'll ever need in my closet! i don't have to work a single day in my life anymore. i can live off with pizza bits and birthday cards and star wars action figures. it'll be so much fun.
then if i get lonely, i'll accidentally cut my palm and press it against an annoyingly white volleyball that happens to be there in the corner of my room. then i'll draw a face on the damn ball and call it mr. wilson. yeah. mr. wilson. he will keep me company everyday. and when i really get lonely and i start crying like a girl, mr. wilson will just make his way to my crotch and give me a blowjob! high five!
oh yeah, i also saw my old photos. old, old photos. all of them black and white. why? because i'm a hundred and two years old, bitch! anyway, i was ogling at 'em pics and damn, was i fat.
i looked in the mirror... and it hit me. flying crap! i'm still the fat fuck that i was 14 years ago. the way i look almost had zero improvement from highschool, only more facial hair. no wonder girls, babies, and even tourists still avoid me.
anyway, that's that. now shoo.
//i'm out.
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