Wednesday, November 2
I have no idea what the hell is wrong with the Earth's atmosphere today, but for some reason it totally fucked with my head at some time last night because I woke up on such a wrong side of the bed, that in comparison I woke up in Mongolia this morning. Yeah man, that is how horribly and incredibly cranky I am today. It didn't help either that when I stepped out of my room, found out that my sister wastes even more of my fucking time by having to watch five fucking minutes of TV before brushing her goddamn teeth, added to the fifteen minutes that she already takes up inside the bathroom. And no fucking way will I wake up early just to brush my teeth before her, get dressed and pack up, and wait for the time to go to school. No fucking way, I've got enough shit that takes away enough time for sleep already.

Jesus fucking Christ, and some fucker bought in a CD with All American Rejects and that dumb band who performs "Can I Be Your Memory?" for my art class to listen to, despite knowing about the rule that no headphones are allowed. There is no worse a time in my life where I wanted to punch something so bad but can't, because my knuckles have bandages on them from last night at work when trying to move a ladder, which got stuck on piles of plastic molds, which I caught from smashing into my face, but instead ended up cutting my fingers [instead of cutting my face].

Work last night was really fun for a difference, except for the part that no fucker told me about flex shifts (and the finger cutting), which meant that I had to call in two hours before the scheduled flex shift to see if they needed me or not. So I just went in to work thinking that it was my regular shift.

But never mind that. You children are selfish and want to see Halloween pictures of the first ever asian Axl Rose in history.


Jeremy had the gnarliest nose ring but I don't know where it went. And he stole that tophat from somebody two seconds before this picture was shot because the reliable town of Rockaway did not have a single quality top hat on sale anywhere within its boundaries.


The cameltoe is there on purpose.


Slash doesn't need no fucking headband.


He doesn't even need a goddamn breathalyzer from the asthma he would eventually get from breathing in so much hair. And you could see the shadow of my enormous Axl-esque pompadour while taking the picture.


Mike making a gay pass at Cartman.


I would've been in this picture, but my head took up too much space.

For now I don't have any pictures of my bicycle shorts or my nasty legs or any Axl-in-motion shots, or anything from outside of school because I'm fucking broke and can't afford my own digital camera.


Christina N. @ 12:18 PM