Thursday, January 6
No, I did not die. I'm sorry if I missed an entry yesterday and caused you a Fred Sanford heart attack. But I'm sure you are still sad, being that you will not be joining Elizabeth. And what is my reason for my absence? Well, I pulled a smartie and read. Yes, I fucking read, you fucking dipshit. The last 150 pages of Hart's War is fucking crazy. The big fight has one guy sticking his hand down the throat of a german gestapo fuck, trying to choke him. While the gestapo fuck is knawing away at that hand, resulting in one missing index finger and half of his middle finger later on. The dude losing his hand does this while continuously kicking the gestapo fuck in the groin. Fucking hilarious, when the gestapo fuck's back finally snaps and he slowly dies.

Maybe I should stop reading war novels. And watching war movies. I'm a sick, twisted fuck who needs to catch up on her daytime soaps.

So yesterday, the mother had the television in the living room real loud, and all I could hear was that Charmin toilet paper commercial with the bears and the shitting on the trunks of the Lara Flynn Boyle sized trees. There's this stupid jingle that goes, "Less is more!" Well duh, the less toilet paper the more mess. What dumbasses.

That was sarcasm right there if you didn't catch it. If you didn't, then you surely are a new reader and should fuck off.

I could be such a dumb shit. I delay doing essays for weeks, oftentimes typing crap right here like right now when I'm not supposed to, and when I finally turn off the modem and get to work at 10:30 in the evening, I whip up a fancy shmancy presidential four-page essay in a single half hour. This is what happened last night, after finishing the aforementioned 490 page prisoner of war novel.

School yesterday went surprisingly well, on my return from a purposeful extended vacation. And surprise suprise, the principal makes an announcement that it was going to be a half day. Then all the fucks across the hall, down the hall, across my computer, down the aisle, up Axl's ass, screaming, "YES!!!!" Yeah, shut the fuck up and take your Midol.

Today was a delayed opening, explaining my reason for going to bed rather later last night. That's fucking awesome, four days into the week and I've only arrived for two full days.

So I almost tripped on my driveway upon coming home. I slipped on a patch of ice and my feet went fiddling like a sane duck swimming in the same pool as Gwar. But, I ended up on two feet anyway and went on walking to the fucking door. To cake. To television. To this computer.

Today also sucked. Because that's what B days are for - lowering my expectations and number of good [consecutive] days.

Oh man, this morning while getting dressed I watched Jerry Springer. It was funny shit. Fuck off, don't tell me it's fake, because I couldn't give an Axl's ass. And that's a very, very big ass. You know what fake is? Christina Aguilera's re-attached pussy from too many piercings that led to the damn thing falling off; and wrestling.


Christina N. @ 4:48 PM