Tuesday, December 14
My mom is taking me to the mall tonight to go buy Christmas shit. With only eight fucking dollars. So I guess everyone's going to get a card. If I try to exchange my ten pound piggy bank with her, she gets fucking pissed for some reason. I'm going to have to make some cards, for I'm trying to get at least two people gifts. This sucks balls. Just like Axl. I promised to myself that I wouldn't anybody anything this year. And look how the promise is going. But then again, I did say and prove that I never keep my promises either. I'd been saving up for about two months just to get that Izzy Stradlin CD, and now this hope is going down the drain. Down the drain to join your nasty diarrhea from lunch this afternoon. I didn't even fucking earn enough the get the damn thing, and now I'm going to be back to zero. Oh well, the point of gift giving is the fulfillment you'll feel inside. So I guess I'm going to do my best.

Most of the "presents" are going to be mailed away to distant people anyway. The majority of fucks here don't really give a damn about a dumb shit like Christina. Actually, the only person I'm buying a gift for here is Lauren. She's expecting one. So I have to. I originally intended not getting her anything, but today she brought it up. So I'm fucked. I guess she does really deserve it, because she's getting me a Guns n' Roses DVD and a Nirvana poster.

She also said that we are definitely more than likely to go see Motley Crue in March. That's fucking awesome.

Oh guess what. I did not watch Velvet Revolver nor The Hives last night. Slept through both of the damn things. And I was still tired in the morning. TIVO would be really helpful for me. Fuck you and your money and your TIVO and your cars and your million CD's and posters covering your walls like cheap (but sexy) wallpaper.

Today was good, I'd have to say. Even though my favorite sweater shrunk in the dryer and it keeps riding up my back and doesn't cover enough of my hands to keep me warm. Fucking dryers, they should invent kinds that don't fuck up your clothing. If it was hung, the sweater would've been stretched. But my mom was being a cunt and didn't want to just leave it on a table to dry.

In chemistry the teacher kept bothering me. And I still have no fucking idea how to do any conversions. Well in my fucking book of bullshit, math is taught in math class and science is taught in science class. Wow, that was dumb. Because in chemistry you need to measure all the shit that's as small as Lars Ulrich's dick. I heard it's so small, that when you're sucking it you can't tell the difference if you're smoking a joint. Maybe it's the wrong dude. But I'm not surprised if it's Lars.

Desktop publishing was boring cow shit. We're working on a project with the person sitting next to us, and I feel sorry for my partner for I was supposed to be giving her directions and instead was just bullshitting around with the folks sitting behind me and watching them stick tape in her hair and snickering afterwards.

So I learned that my ornament won a prize. While working on some more shit with Katrina in geometry in the back of the classroom, I found all the nominated ornaments, and the winning ones had these blue papers stapled to them. Mine had a blue paper stapled to it. Duh, if you didn't get that you might as well suffocate by shoving your head into Axl's waist.

I finished sculpting my dog thing in art class. Now I'll just have to find some hot pink spray paint.

No editing for this post, because I got some shit to do.


Christina N. @ 4:56 PM