My boobs hurt so much today that I can hardly stand to be awake. I've felt angry a lot lately. I was going to try to find interesting pictures to download but other than the rollerskating kids everything is porn no matter what you type in and that is quite frankly very ZZZZZZZ like get over it already wankjobs. See I can't even type here without being angry, everybody bugs me with all the stupid things they say and do. I bet there is 4, maybe 5 people tops who don't bug me right now. I bet out of those 4, maybe 5 people I only know 2 of them. If you are trying to figure out if you are one of them, you're too sensitive.
Don't you love reading comments on blogs that are all kiss ass and "wow I so understand where you are coming from and I love you and everything you say and hang in there and blah blah blah". I mean positive is good but there is a fine line, actually no it's not a fine line it's a pretty fucking obvious line between self-respect and vomitorium. I don't usually get those which is good, but when I read those comments on other blogs I cringe because obviously these people are the same people in high school who would literally eat shit to hang out with the popular crowd and who would have thought they would still be cramming those steamy heaping loads down their throats however many years later?
I'm a dweller. It's a really shitty thing about me, I don't forget things. I wouldn't make a good christian in that respect with the forgive and forget nonsense, or maybe I would because I don't believe they do that for one second. I will seriously start thinking about something that has nothing to do with anything anymore and get myself all pissed off. Whatever blah blah blah....
If I had anything to say I would say it but clearly I do not which is incredibly pathetic because I am not of an age where I should have nothing going on, the fact I just wrote "I am not of an age" means someone should hit me now for sounding like such a pompous dillhole.
P.S. I have some poetry being published in Poetry Canada which would be cool if poetry weren't for goth girls and femme boys and people with too many cats and folks who throw wine tasting parties and pretend to understand way more than they actually do. If I sound ungrateful, I'm not, so don't even.
P.P.S. if this font is all weird don't blame me. Blogger does whatever it wants. If not, then nevermind.
P.P.P.S. It's a phone.
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