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BIG TIME BABY CAKES. LICK IT. 2002-11-12 3:17 p.m. YOU KNOW, I REALLY HOPE TO GET BACK TO MY 8 YEAR OLD SELF. I DON’T THINK ANYTHING I’VE LEARNED ABOUT THE HUMAN CONDITION SINCE THEN HAS HELPED. WORRY, GUILT AND UNNECCESARY RESPONSIBILITY. I WANT TO NOT CARE. I WANT TO WALK AROUND THE CITY DRINKING BEER OUT OF A PAPER BAG AND PRETEND I’M HOMELESS (DID THAT LAST NIGHT) UNTIL I DECIDE TO GO HOME AND CURL UP IN MY BED. I WANT TO SMOKE POT IN THE ALLEY BEHIND ALL YOUR HOUSES. I WANT TO SHOW UP AT PEOPLES DOORSTEPS WITHOUT WARNING. I WANT TO TALK TO STRANGERS. I WANT TO WANDER WITHOUT DESTINATION.AND I WANT TO NEVER EVER EVER EVER WORRY ABOUT WHAT FUCKING TIME IT IS. FIN.
I'm a ditz, and shallow too. Right. 2002-11-12 12:15 p.m. I fucking love Nerds. (the candy) I’m squirreling the little boxes away in my desk. I love lemonheads too. And fur, on the kitty.Dearest Kitty, I’m sorry that I considered that your feelings were so shallow as to view me as a refrigerator and nothing more. Because when I am sad or need love you come in my bed and pet my face with yours. And you realized that I don’t like when you meow for food at 5 am, so now instead you come in and sleep with me and rub my nose when you think I’m awake instead of standing on my forehead and meowing like you used to. I notice. And I love you. Love, Tara
LUCIO'S ITALIAN 2002-11-11 1:40 p.m. i TOTALLY FORGOT THAT i WENT OVER RICH'S LAST NIGHT ON A WHIM WITH MY AUNT'S PURPLE STATION WAGON AND THE KELLSTER. hE HAS REGAINED HIS CONFIDENCE AND IS SO GREAT. i ALWAYS TOOK HIS CRANKINESS PERSONALLY. tHAT'LL LEARN ME. i DIDN'T EVEN MIND WHEN i GOT THE 2 MINUTE NOOGIE. iT'S PERFECT. nOW HE GET'S THE TREAT TO kAROUN i'VE BEEN THREATENING. kABOBS ARE LEGAL, RIGHT?iT REALLY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME, EVER, THANK HEAVENS.
In the eye, shoot me in it. 2002-11-11 11:04 a.m. I’m letting the suspense drag a little longer. Jonee is back from Thailand.I want to live in another country. And I want to make everyone feel better, but I can’t very well. I am a T.I.T. officially this weekend. TWAT in training. Tacky Women’s Angling Team. My aunt is part of this secret society of women who fish. There are three requirements to be an official TWAT. 1. You have to be able to fly fish 2. You have to be able to drink 3. You have to swallow But, my aunt doesn’t want to know the answer to #3. I don’t want to know the answer to #3, so now it’s just the fly fishing part. I don’t like to kill the fish so much, but I do like to stand in the river with the current rushing past my hips. A lot. And walk in the woods. These people we stayed with were so crazy. But, you see, people who live a fairly isolated lifestyle (i.e. in the woods) have their little quirks swing full-on into large, well developed parts of their personality. This woman (one of the TWATs) welcomed me in her house with her naked boob. When we came in, she showed us to our room and then took a shower. I was sitting in a chair and she asked me a question and when I turned around to answer her, there is boob, 2 inches from my eye. (I thought it was a great boob for a 47 year old woman). But seriously, this woman got naked anywhere. We got off the river and she stripped down to her naked ass in a busy parking lot to get into regular clothes. The best thing was her macho, fishing god boyfriend. They met on a dating service on the net. He has been a biochemist for the past 7 years, but before that he was a chef and a, yeah get this, heavy metal guitarist. He played his “we almost got signed with this tape in ’81” tape. The whole messy ten songs of it. They sounded like a less talented, super cheesy version of Iron Maiden. The singer was a Dickinsonabee. ‘Tie me up. Chain me down. Woman, you need a love slave.’ Their name was, oh if this isn’t a cherry, SYLAS MOURNER. I can’t go on.
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