Wednesday, November 3
It seems as though the longer I write my entries, the less comments I get. I love you too, guys.
Ah yes, I knew the elephants would win. Now I can laugh at all your sorry faces of misery and disgust and scorn and look down upon your shitty failed attempts at anarchy and rebellion. I am not saying this because I am a republican or a pessimistic democrat, but because I am a pessimistic bitch. Maybe The Sex Pistols will make a comeback.
While scrolling down my Livejournal friends page, I saw complaint after complaint after redundant complaint. Suck it up. You are not forty years old, running a family with a cheating spouse and four children with a station wagon in your suburban garage whose life is actually affected by what's going on in the White House. Move to Canada. Throw a temper tantrum. Bust your TV and later on regretting that you did it because you can't watch anymore porn. Be dumb, because I would much rather move to Mexico. Everyone needs lush vegetation. And I am not talking about celery.
I have a new found love of hating people. Or maybe it's just because people have been bitchy today, being that the majority of New Jersey is liberal and take everything so fucking seriously to the point of gaseous intestinal explosion. It is either that, or I really am that big of a loser. Everyone in my french class dislikes me. Everyone in my history class dislikes me. Everyone in my literature class dislikes me. Oh well, I couldn't even give a fuck, I'm not the one who panics about not doing my homework last night when it's due in three days. The only thing I like about B days is gym and lunch. Gym because it's not all sophomores, being that I fucking despise my own grade, and lunch because there aren't as many two cent whores as there are in A lunch. There still are anyway, just not as many to make my eyes burn from seeing too many buns out of their ovens.
Appetite for Destruction is great for days like this.
Holy fucking shit, I get another project. With randomnly chosen partners. One guy, whom we used to be pretty damn cool friends and this other loner guy who stays away from us on the other side of the room doing who knows what the fuck what, and it sure isn't masturbation. Not like in my case in which I like to eat breakfast sandwiches and donuts and spreading cream cheese on my bagels in the corner of the classroom and watch Guns n' Roses videos on the computer, but he's a nerd who I'm assuming doesn't do any of that whatsoever. The one guy who I was friends with, seemed really fucking pissed today. I'm not sure whether if it was at me, the other guy in our group, or the both of us. He gave me attitude and kept ignorantly and conceitedly ignoring me. What the fuck happened? I have no fucking idea, for if he doesn't like me anymore he could just shove a rusty Goya bean can up his ass and go cry to a real estate agent for all I care. And if he has nothing against me, well then that's just fabulous. I highly doubt that anyway.
I hate playing volleyball when the people on the other team are nothing but sophomores who, when the ball comes toward them, they flap at it like water and break their fingers or move to the side like a fucking Axl pussy and scream with their OMG's and shit. One certain whore got a ball spiked at her boob. That was funny. Whenever I spike the ball, for some reason it always hits a blonde on the head. How weird is that.
I had crispy M&M's for lunch. They were good. I also made a new friend today. I forgot her name though.
In english I had to sit alone dazed and confused listening to everyone's bullshit about car insurance and blonde-and-jock whoring going on around me. It's sad how many people don't know who sang "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)."
Remembering about The Sex Pistols reminds me of how big of a fan I was a while back. I did a presentation on them for music class in eigth grade and did pretty good. The teacher is one hell of an awesome mother fucker and had some pretty cool feedback on the presentation too. I miss that guy.
These days I don't know how I'm feeling about Lauren. She values me a lot as a friend, but I find her not to be the most honest or genuine person in the world. Sometimes I'm not even sure if she really does value me, or thinks that I look cool and if she's seen around with someone who looks cool then that will increase her popularity and "look." And sometimes I really do suck up to her to get something I want. Like box seats to a Velvet Revolver show. Then I start to act all good and friendly and shit. Then there are other times like now when I don't want to be around her for I can tell that she talks about certain things just to sound cool when they actually turn out sounding like wannabe bullshit. That's why she is not genuine. She's not honest because she denies a lot of things even if the truth is right there out in the open in front of you and she still won't admit it. Qualities like this irritate the fucking shit out of me.
I enjoy not walking home, for I don't have to put up with cutting slow walking people's shitfulness while hiking up the fucking hill and then just walking down again to get to my humble little wine colored house.
There's a box of chocolate chip cookies in my backpack and I must keep them away from my mother's sight. For my meds don't allow me to eat chocolate.
Sitting my ass down on the couch like every day after eight hours of lower education and inhumane torture towards my sanity, I ate three quarters of a muffin and gave the rest to my younger sibling to eat. Crumby plate and torn-up-by-a-fork muffin and all.
Plans for this weekend? I'll list some just for the sake of taking up space and wasting my shitufl time.
Thursday
1. wake up
2. watch four hours of tv while eating homemade sexalicious yummy sandwiches
3. clean a bit so the mother won't complain and bitch about my la-z boy sofa personality
4. sit in front of the compaq presario god i love "mr. brownstone" for about five hours typing up probably three entries equal of this length
5. bathe like a bitch, for i probably won't bathe tonight, because tomorrow i'm just going to stay home all day. no one's gonna smell my ass. no need to shower.
6. sit for another hour in front of this glowing screen that if you wave your fingers in front of, you suddenly have twenty of them
7. watch three hours of television in bed
8. sleep and pray for no more nightmares
Friday
1. all day shopping at jersey city with jeannie and company
Saturday
1. same thing as thursday
2. except that i must clean for thy mother will most likely be on her period again
Sunday
i have no fucking idea.
No comments? If anyone has even reached to this part, that is. I shouldn't be talking, for I've been an asshole and have not been reading anyone's entries at all, just skimming through the first sentence and if it needs some insight from me, I type some shit in so as no one will be angry at me for never commenting.
You just lucked out, for it's dinnertime and I have to go.
