FUCKIN A! Too many pina coladas, man. Why teh fuck? My hands still smell like cheese because II had to grate cheese for dinner. I made like croque monsieur or something french or shit as an appetizer because I had to cookan entire meal for as a final project in m yfood & Nutrition class. Cooking sucks. Eating is fun. I would not want to be a cook. It sucks balls, satanding on front of a stove like that for so fucking long and sweating fucking sweat waterfalls down your back like a million sweat snakes wanted to climb into your asscrack or something. Idon't know. bad thinking sklls as of late.
I had t o grate 9-dollar swiss guryeere cheese. It's fucking nasty. Cheese, sure, cheese tastes good when cookd but it smells like fucking white people when they don't shower. That curdled milk cum smell. Asian people smell like um . just turds or something when they don't shorwer.
I kdin of feel bad because Lauren called me like twice within five minutes (wtf? normally one would call them back within five minutes of you missed ther call. geta fucking life)_ and then called my house. What erthe fucking hell? GET A LIFE. And she didn't have anything important to say. come on. Stop killing me softly here. I hate Lauren Hill her songs sucks. Seriously I don't think she cares about me too? much? It's just that she doesn't have anyone to talk to. I didn't callai mean answere the first two times that shce called but then my fsister had to fucking answer the phone when she claled the house. I answeree d in a very angry tone and said that I was busy watching tv and that would call later..inlike an hour. I never did. Because I fell asleep. Thank you captaon morgan!!!!
And just to let you kow, 9COW) fUCKING SHITHOLE i have two projects to do fopr tomorrow and it is 10:30 at night and I am fucking tNKAED, MAN. If anyone wants to help me with fuckin homework. BE MY GUEST. fuck homework. Well actually, yeah. Waitn, not really. Dont want to fuck paper
Christina N. @ 10:31 PM
Thursday, May 24
Christina N. @ 8:44 PM
Monday, May 21
It always seems as though when I have a plentiful day, I can't really write about it (except for Peeping Tom). Let's see...
Cut part of school to go to Burger King with Kerry and Rina for lunch. And I have to say, when you refer to Burger King as quality food, you know the school's food is nothing other than the equivalent of the charity donation vitamin-porridge that Ethiopians are spoon fed by fleshy celebrity American humanitarians in Africa. Or in other words, that gurgly-looking shit that they often ate in The Matrix. That was a good movie, shut the fuck up.
Music class was alright, much better than usual. Lita, Kerry and I just sat at a table not working on our final project and just talked about how funny fat people are. Everybody does that at least five or ten times a year, seriously. I couldn't stop lean-back laughing at Lita's story about her fatass aunt who whenever drops a nuclear dook in the bathroom of Lita's house of which she could fit in (since there are two), it would leave such a nuclear vapor so lethal that her dad had to caution tape the entire first floor of the house.
Then after school I think Kerry went home with me so that I could buy cigarettes for her or something. But anyway, by the time we got to my house we forgot why she had to come over anyway, so we decided to take a walk to the Salvation Army.
On the way there a kid who stalked me last year MYSTERIOUSLY crosses the street out of NOWHERE and attempts to meet us on the sidewalk. What are the fucking chances of that? Shit, I might as well run into Mike Patton at the DMV. All in all, I barely muttered a word to him after all of his frantic attempts at talking to me and kept on walking, without making any eye contact with him. He looks like Howdy Doody, and Kerry really thinks that that guy is literally somewhat mentally retarded. Just so that you get an idea of how horrendous he is.
We get to the Salvation Army and the place was motherfucking closed. It closed at 2-fucking-o'clock in the afternoon and we got there at around 4:30. Big bummer. Some army we have.
On the way back, we passed the "WALGREENS - COMING SOON" banner again that was hung across a fence surrounding a construction site. We were very aggravated by the fact that there was already one being built just a mile down the road and that we desperately needed a Taco Bell. Soooo we took my Sharpie marker, crossed out "WALGREENS," wrote "TACO BELL," and drew a velvet revolver peeing onto the crossed-out "WALGREENS."
At a traffic lightpost, we adorned it with "THANKS FOR LETTING ME FUCK UR DAD!" At another one down the road, it was beautifully decorated with the epigram, "I <3 CUNT."
Then we finally reached the Dover Dairy Maid. I got a hot fudge sundae and Kerry got orange Italian ice. We sat on the bench outside and couldn't leave without giving it a "UR MOM LIKES PUSSY."
We took the back road back to my house because we'd had enough of guys almost climbing out of their cars to gawk at us. At the Dover High School, there's signs on the barbed wire fence that have the Spanish translation above the English signs, so in reaction to that rudeness and insult to Americans, I had to take out my Sharpie and write, "Go back to your country!" as some scary Hispanic in a pick-up truck yelled something that we couldn't figure out as he passed by.
Close to my street was an abandoned Porsche. We plan to hijack it on Wednesday.
How childish was this entry?
The End.
Christina N. @ 10:21 PM
Thursday, May 17
Yesterday I bought iced tea from a vending machine in school and it gave me back spanish money. I'll fucking prove it to you:
WTF?
Now that is perhaps the school's best technique for being cheap. But it's probably just some illegal whose native currency still isn't worth an american dollar so decides to try to see if they could buy soda with it or not.
So I might be seeing Ted Nugent next month in NYC. Just the thought of that cracks me up. It's going to be the shit - I mean, it's the fucking Nuge here, with coon tail on his ass and all. However, I really kind of doubt that I'll actually be going though. My folks is bein' a biotch lately.
Today I had to give a presentation for a movie soundtrack that I made up for my choice of Pulp Fiction. I played the "Divine Intervention" and "I Shot Marvin in the Face" scenes to the tunes of Mr. Bungle, and believe it or not, people were talking during my presentation. So what did I do? I told them to shut the fuck up. I almost spat at one girl, "Shut up, you Catholic bitch!" Then the teacher told me to calm down. Um, excuse me?
#1: Pulp Fiction is not something to take lightly
#2: Do you really think your opinion is more important than Pulp Fiction?
Fucking dolts, I swear. I kind of want to gut them like a fish and eat their innards like linguine and crabsauce.
Kerry and I have commenced a plan to steal a shitload of ketchup packets from Burger King and place them under toilet seats so that when a girl sits on the toilet, the packets will pop and it looks as though their vagina went caput. Will be done the next time there is a good chance where we could hit up some BK. I heard that their burgers don't have bones in them like McDonald's does. There's probably some other "crap" in them.
Christina N. @ 5:40 PM
Sunday, May 13
So finally my Nintendo NES works. The seller sent me a new cord in the mail and turns out that it was the miracle cord. Only thing is, the 72 pin connector is pretty faulty. Still works on most games, but I'd rather get a whole new pin connector so that I don't break a sweat every time I want to play something. I'm really pissed that the Duckhunt is really faulty. Fuck, I'm not even sure if it's working correctly. And it's my all-time favorite fucking game too. Goddamn.
I had an AP test for European History on Friday, and I really have to admit that it was perhaps the most ridiculous test that I had ever taken. I'll save you all of the usual bitching and say that instead of doing the three essays, I started revising the test booklet with my pen and inserted quotes and suggestions about how fucking lame the Collegeboard is.
My neighbors have been so annoying lately that I walked home with my hand covering my face, making it look like I was trying to cover the sun but actually didn't want to talk to any nosy fucktards. It was like dodging flashbulbs from the paparazzi. It's fucking ridiculous. Not only was I in a shitty mood from the AP test that made me leave school late, but they have a tendency to gossip like no tomorrow. Seriously, your nose belongs on your shitty face, not in somebody else's business.
For some reason, I wasn't scheduled for work today, and stayed home for an entire fucking day for the first time in months. I really can't remember the last time that I stayed home all day. But anyhow, it was a well-deserved break (in my opinion, fuck yours).
You know what also came in the mail just recently?
I know it's a long time overdue, but when it comes to shit that I actually do care about, I must go out and buy that shit instead of pirating it on Limewire or some other source of illegal downloading. For the uneducated, the concept of this album centers around the human state of mind when undergoing surgery without anesthesia. Craziest shit ever and highly recommended. Not that anybody cares. I fucking swear - any, any type of attempt at conversion to music that you like does not and will not work because nobody gives a flying fuck. Particularly myself, because my popularity rate is at an ultimate low.
On the back of the elaborately-packaged CD is this quote from a surgical book: "Like the surgeon, the composer slashes open the body of his fellow man, removes his eyes, empties his abdomen of organs, hangs him up on a hook holding up to the light all of the body's palpitating treasures sending a burst of light into its innermost depths."
Nifty stuff, eh? I don't know about you, but I totally dig that shit.
Christina N. @ 10:33 PM
Wednesday, May 2
Oh my god, fucking skin me alive right now. I have become an eBay addict. My life is beginning to reach its dreadful end as of this moment (financially, which eventually leads to physically, which then leads to literally). I now owe over $300 to my mom because of the mp3 player, pointless Faith No More memorabilia that only me and a portion of this world care about, and yes, an old school Nintendo NES that cost $60 for twelve games, cleaning kit, a gun and two controllers that come with it. My friend just had an impulse within a matter of ten minutes ago and bought a fucking limited release (seriously, this one is hard to find as opposed to all of those falsely advertised shitty DVDs of Rob Schneider movies) autographed Mike Patton/Ikue Mori/John Zorn CD. Shit man, I probably would have bought that before she did, had I owned a credit card under my own name. My mother would fucking beat my ass if she ever found out that I would spend $125 on a piece of plastic that had some old bastard's Sharpie marks on it in the shame of his name; with her money. My chum and I are also teaming up on winning an auction that has 60+ Faith No More magazine clippings. Fucking insane, I tell ya. It's incredibly sad, really.
But you have to admit; that is a hot picture of General P. for ya.
I am always tempted to go up to a cop at school and ask him, "Why do you have a gun?" just to see how he would react.
Shit man, I want to go see Trevor Dunn play at The Stone in New York but I'm grounded. FUCK!
FUCK!
Christina N. @ 5:05 PM
