Saturday, April 1
A day cannot go by in my life without setting a minute aside to think about the Baldwins. No, it's not a religious thing. It's just a natural little spark in my head where I always think about the Baldwins for about thirty seconds once every day. What about the Baldwins? That episode of South Park where their mansion was bombed by airplanes and all the Baldwins were killed in the process. Mr. Garrison breaks down and starts crying when he hears the news.

The only thing I do religiously is eat red meat. If I could, I'd have a magic beef jerky cow follow me around for my entire life. And what I'd do is, when I'm hungry, I'd peel off the side of its body and eat it, because it's just 100% guaranteed fresh mesquite-smoked beef jerky.

I finally realized about my Baldwin sickness when I went over Lauren's house after school to watch The Usual Suspects for a project. The movie fucking kicked ass, man. She kept drooling over Stephen Baldwin, who I find alright at times but a lot of times he looks partially retarded. Instead, I had an unusual boner for Gabriel Byrne. I swear, that man is fucking bangin. Even if he is sort of old, I don't care. But then the both of us were totally disappointed when both guys were killed off. Oh, and I don't care if you've never seen the movie before.

What makes Gabriel Byrne kick more ass besides the fact that he's an irishman is that he was a fucking bullfighter/cook/archaeologist/spanish schoolteacher turned actor. Anybody who's a bullfighter kicks ass. Because Gabriel Byrne kicks over-sized ball-strangled mammal asses.

So I am extremely tired. It does not do good for the body to sleep five hours a night and eat nothing but brownies and peroggies all day. Fuck you school, you can't make anything that looks more sanitary than just simply brownies and peroggies. French fries get messy so screw that. Yesterday I ate:

egg everything bagel with cream cheese
snack bag of doritos
brownie
two funny bones
girl scout samoa cookies
girl scout thin mint cookies
hershey kisses
two pop tarts
half a chicken sub with mozzarella, red peppers and balsamic vinegar
ruffles potato chips

Lauren's pop didn't let me open the can of corned beef hash. That thing was off limits. My heart was broken for a few seconds but I eventually got over it.

Today when I went into work, I saw on the table in the break room tons and tons of food, purchased by the assistant manager for all employees to "inspire" us to make the rather large sales goal for the day. I practically did that stupid Macaulay Culkin shocked face with his hands when I saw it. So I ate half the jar of salsa dip with Tostitos and half the tray of brownies, what the fuck do you think? If I keep up this lifestyle, Keith Richards would still outlive me.


Christina N. @ 6:17 PM