Wednesday, November 17
Oh man, I had so much crap to say while scrubbing my ass with a bar of Oil of Olay in the shower and now I forgot everything. For some reason, one comes up with a lot of ideas while bathing. It's like some meditative moment of the day where your thoughts roll out like shit out of Don Vito's diarrhea-ed ass. And to be honest, when I started making up stuff for my Izzy Stradlin community, it was all from thoughts in the shower. Christina needs a life.

Today sucked balls, man. Mainly because every fucking asshole at lunch pissed me off. For some shitful reason today, all the food was gone. By the time I got on the lunch line, there were no cheeseburgers. I cut through the french fry line and got kicked out. By the time I got to the vending machine it wouldn't accept any dollar bills. By the time I went to the then empty french fry line there were fucking none left. By the time I went back to the vending machine it did accept bills by then, but there was no fucking Starburst left. So I got a Butterfinger. I hate those. They're hard to bite and get stuck on the edges of your front teeth and you end up looking like a twenty six year old pedophile/incestual redneck shit who wears brown ass stained overalls and has pubes that are longer than Cher's hair. I have no idea why the fuck Bart and Homer Simpson did their commercials.

Then I get persecuted by some teacher for sitting on the floor around garbage that wasn't even mine while eating that shitty Butterfinger. I also had Fritos and Ritz Bitz S'mores Crackers. They both tasted stale. Stale like your uncle's balls. That's what happens when Fat Bon Bon Axl sneaks into your school at night and eats everything. Okay that was a bad joke, but whatever.

When there is lack of food, total food drought, none to be anywhere, and I'm starving like a little boy in Romania, I could just about pull a 100% geniune Axl.

I'm not gonna go through my entire day, because you just have to look up the history of Joseph Stalin to get a general idea of how it went. Plus, it would just irritate the hell out of you and your crystal clear corneas from being so educated about my useless crap.

But, one thing was worth mentioning.

While walking home in the parking lot and passing by these two boys, seniors they were, I think, who were sitting on the trunk of their car and upon me coming up, one compliments, "Nice shades." I didn't know them, but I haven't received a compliment in a long time so it made my day. One smiled at me and I smirked and kept on walking. Little things like that tend to make me feel good, because I'm a loser who has barely any friends and my closest to a best friend is a toaster named Mr. Toaster. It's such a typical and non-original name. That's even more dumb. I even have a clay head of some monster that I made in eigth grade named Boy George. He's hot.

When I got home I couldn't have a snack because the contractor was working in the kitchen. That made me sad. By the time dinner came around and the large plate full of roast pork was laid onto the coffee table that now serves as our dining table for the time being, I took my fork and ate right off of it, pretty much hogging the entire goddamn thing and indirectly keeping everyone's hands away from it. Then my mom yells with her lightning-like snap of a voice, "YOUR BOWL OF RICE IS FULL, STOP EATING!" That scared the shit out of me. I almost had a heart attack and felt like I was fifty years old and took Bayer every two hours before taking my Midol, my mother is that scary of a woman.

I guess all the shit I had to say that I thought up of in the shower came back to me.


Christina N. @ 9:08 PM