Thursday, September 16
Hear me whine
Hear me wail
See me get eaten by a whale.


Here goes.

It is Olympus Fashion Week in New York. I have been watching Full Frontal Fashion all day. My dream is to now become a Victoria's Secret underwear model. Seriously! Why can't I be tall? Why can't I have a small face? Why can't I be zit-free? Not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair. I was watching the Betsey Johnson collection, and man, would it be real fun too. The models were dancing on the runway and stuff, so awesome. You wear the best clothes and get to show off that sexalicious bod of yours. If you have one, that is.

But the ironic thing is, some models these days are just stickweed thin and ass ugly. Makes me think that you can instantly become a supermodel if you're super tall and super skinny. No looks needed.

Why do I feel lonely all of a sudden? I need a man.

One that looks like Izzy Stradlin preferably.

I almost burned myself a couple minutes ago trying to light a candle. You must be thinking, "Aww damn she didn't die! Fucking bitch." Well, I like scented candles. They mask this mysterious odor in my room.


Christina N. @ 11:26 PM