Wednesday, September 22
I guess nobody knows how many Baldwins there are. You fucking suck.

Not really, I just like saying that. To make myself feel superior, which I will never be.

Second time I got locked out of the house in a period of 3 months. No one fucking told me that my mom would be working late and wouldn't be there to open the door for me, so I didn't bring my adorable Pokemon Sandshrew keychain and keys with me when leaving the russian refugee camp. The sibling got home soon after I sat down on the steps reading the Sharper Image catalog that came in the mail today. Turns out her garage remote didn't work, nor did her keys fit into the goddamn keyhole. After using the neighbor's phone and the mother comes home, she yells at the sibling! NOT ME. I was so relieved. Thank you, God (Jimmy Page).

To be honest, I have absolutely no close friends. I guess I've lost them, they've ditched me or something, and I couldn't even give a fuck. Haha Velvet Revolver lyric. Ok, they were my last group of let's say, cronies (I've always wanted to use that word), and ever since highschool started they ignored me and totally isolated me to this world of, more shit than what they had already been giving me. Oh well, they can go fuck Barry Manilow's coiffe for all I care. It's sad to see people be such ignorant fucks and not care for you like that, even if you have devoted your worthiness to them. Since then, I couldn't care less about anyone around me, except for some exceptions, but I haven't had a best friend or anyone to talk to my entire life, and the last closest one was in 3rd grade. That's really depressing, but that's just Christina for you.

I hate to see people argue. Personally, I know fighting never works at all. And the best way in my opinion to solve a problem is just to try to understand one other, without losing your vocal chords and a cornea. I don't want a whole world of Axls and Mike Tysons around yelling the shit out of each other's throats and biting each other's ears off and spitting them on the ground. Because, frankly, even to the most sexiest of men, ears probably don't taste that good and who knows, some may have hair or earwax on them. And we don't want that. I don't know about some of you kinky kids out there, but that's just my thing about biting ears off. To tell you the truth, I have never been in an argument that involved yelling so loud that your blood cells in your face turn red like Rob Reiner's ass. Or slamming doors, hands, fists, or any limb that has the potential to snap in pieces. I'm a wuss and let the other person do all the yelling. And the only person who ever yelled at me that much was my mom. Oh man, does she yell. She yells for as long as it takes for me to recover from the pain of hearing a New Found Glory song on TV. Other than that, peers around my age just get bitter towards me because I am the asshole who never does anything and never moves, or moves very slowly. Sometimes including a little diss of love here and there because I feel like pissing some fuckers off. Unless I see an Izzy Stradlin lookalike somewhere beyond the horizon, then I get up off my flat ass so fast that I could be the long lost cousin of that running superhero guy with the red jumpsuit and lightning bolts on the side of his head.

Today was so boring. I knew it would suck. It's a fucking B day. In literature class I filled an entire paper with lovely little doodles and smelly black Bic ink. I'll take a picture of it someday, when I feel like it.

I know I say I'll eventually do a lot of things when I feel like it, but I actually mean I probably won't do it.

But what I will promise is, is an Axl Rose post for this weekend. If I don't make it by Monday, delete me off of your friends list because I am not the least bit worthy of being a decent friend. Even an internet one at that. I am that shitty of a being.


Christina N. @ 7:47 PM