Talk about boredom, I edited pictures and shit all afternoon in the basement on the father's computer. And in addition made a new layout with a crappily resized pixelated picture. I always end up making new layouts on Sundays, because they are that full of shit and bore me that fucking much. Everyone's at church on line to get into the confession booths after a seven day week of three spousal affairs and two child homicides. While I'm here flattening my nonexistant ass on this chair for a total of ten hours and not going to church after doing all of those things because Jimmy Page is my god and Mr. Toaster is my spouse.
Is my name Mrs. Christina Toaster? No, I kept my maiden name.
That was a fucking joke now go cry to your mom because you just found out that I'm not really married to a rusty human hand baking machine. Seriously, to you loons who married toasters, doesn't it hurt your genitals like hell?
Quiet Riot sucks. I'm glad Randy Rhoads left them to go with Ozzy.
Don't grow your toenails. No matter how pretty your feet are or how many times you make a four foot asian woman give you a manicure at a third class nail salon with a neon sign in the window, long toenails are disgusting. And when you try to get socks on they get stuck on a thread. Then you start to tear your sock apart if you have a bad temper, AXL, instead of pulling your nasty foot out and trying again.
Look, be proud of me. Otherwise, ridicule my amateurity. If that's even a word.
Shit man it smells like sandwiches who the fuck is holding out on me?
Christina N. @ 7:55 PM
