Friday, September 3
My ass is seriously, severely sore. No one wants to walk to school - up and down a hill, around the school, up the stairs, and sit on nothing but rigid plastic chairs, varnished wooden benches with metal knobs in them, and cement garages. Is this supposed to lead to a nice, firm buttocks, or one like cottage cheese?

Added to the risk of a peaceful death by having your body parts splattered all over the dark grey pebbly road. One of your lungs smeared across the stop sign, your head pierced on the side through one of the rudders on the little windmill in the neighbor's yard, and your legs stuck and spnning around in the wheel of the car that killed you on purpose. And your kidneys staining the windows of the little girl's playhouse, with her chihuahua licking the blood and flesh off, thinking it's beef.

All in all, today sucked. And it's only the second day. French, oh man I had to sit between Chelsea Kowal the oversized chippendale chipmunk and someone else who kept talking to herself. Or maybe she was trying to talk to me, but I didn't listen. Who knows. But I swear she was talking to herself. No, not into a headset plugged into a cellphone, she was really talking to herself like a schizo.

I have C lunch. Fucking C lunch. Mike and I had a nice long talk about our fucked up uncles and guns and drug overdoses and B cups it was cool. I hadn't talked to him all summer. I'm glad someone still talks to a bitch like me. I'm wondering about Andrew. He's the coolest dude. I'll have to smack him someday, he hasn't said hey once yet. I'm not surprised.

I'm considering getting my schedule changed. Well I have been since like a month, I knew it would turn out crappy. If you don't want me to, write an entire essay about why you'd like to do me in the back of a classroom on a pile of candywrappers still not cleaned up from last year and maybe I'll reconsider.

The english teacher made me sit in the front, in the center, right where she stands and lectures. That is the worst fucking seat possible. Wow that would suck if you got your period and it stained through your pants and you stand up, showing everyone your lovely new dye job if you sat in the front like that. And you were wearing white pants. Not that I ever wear white pants. Only when I become a lesbian, then I'd wear ass-tight-panty-line white pants. But as long as men like Scott Weiland and Izzy Stradlin are still around, you will never see me wear white pants.

I think "Tangerine" is my new favorite Zeppelin song.

They aren't selling cheeseburgers. What a real goddamn shame. The cafeteria has lost a valuable customer. For if I am really hungry enough I'd buy TWO cheeseburgers. But noooo, they don't "cook" or whatever they do to make them - slaughter a few raccoons or possums here and there and put them in a baked sea sponge, anymore.


Christina N. @ 5:41 PM