I hate you.

I hate you.

20 Class A Excuses

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Christ on a fucking pony.

[Jul. 7th, 2007|03:51 am]

[

Vagary

frustrated

]

I'm down to eight cigarettes. I have $1. I need a second job but can't find one. I don't get paid til Thursday. I can't even afford car insurance, much less make enough money to get an apartment. My 4th of July was fucked up because of bullshit traffic and people taking too long to get ready, and also by people who did not bother to give me gas money for the time I wasted. I got bitched at over something completely asinine by a hoarde of cockless fucks on Ozzfest.com. My computer disconnected itself halfway through something I was doing. The name I want for my new journal is taken. I have even lost the charger to my mobile, and of course my battery died over 24 hours ago. God the fuck damn. I want to fucking kill somebody, slowly and through the use of merciless, cold-blooded violence and carnage. I want them to feel lots of pain, and I want them to fuck with me first so that the anger driven by this motive is more sincere and abrasive. I want to sleep but it's 4 am and I have to be up early to help out with my dad's garage sale, for which I am missing my third roller derby practice in a row.

GOD.
FUCKING.
DAMMIT.

I fucking hate everyone and everything.
I will not try to further express my rage, because that's basically impossible.

Link

2 feasted upon.|The zombies are feasting.

An actual update? Are you shitting me? Go away.	[Feb. 18th, 2007\|06:00 pm]
I suppose Friday nite [which started just hours after the piercings] deserves some mentioning or another. Anyway. We were snowed in! Gah. It was horrible in a fun way. 1. Sam and I are met by David + Sarah in Steak 'n Shit, go from there so that Sam can teach all of us how to injest whippits. We had to go to Tammy's All Nite Porn Store to get the cartridges first. Out to D + S's we did go. 2. I get smoked out of my mind and invent a drink called the Bleedin' Kilt [A fuzzy navel with Scotch]. I was the only one who liked the Bleedin' Kilt, but of course, as I said, smoked out of my mind, so...yeah. It may not have been that good. But Dave bought a new minibar with lovely leathered upholstery, so I got to mix a terrible concoction the way all the pimps do. Then I got drunk out of my mind. 3. All that occurs...members of this little happening being Myself, Sam, Bobby, Stinky Minnesota, and the aforementioned owners of the house. Sam leaves and refuses to take me to my car as it is far, far, far too dangerous to drive, as ice and snow are collecting at a rapid speed on the interstate. 4. Bobby doesn't have a car. The only car there belonging to David and Sarah, we were all too afraid to drive, and no one would come out to get us for food, which, amazingly, all of us had our own money for. We were snowed in. And the house was cold. And taking up all that space was awkward as a guest in a friend's house. So I got to share a couch with Minnesota. Fun, especially when I woke up with his foot pushing me more into a U-Shape, and my head + neck into the arm of the couch. Pretty Goddamn excellent. Cough. 5. Sam comes back the next morning and we all go to Trimbles and eeeaaatttt. Fucking...ass. Snowed in, indeed. That's all.
Link	The zombies are feasting.

New piercings for I.

[Feb. 18th, 2007|05:53 pm]

[	Vagary	\|	good	]
[	Noise	\|	Cat Power - "After It All"	]

As of Friday: Center of bottom lip and right eyebrow.
Planned originally on the labret instead of the eyebrow but changed to this arrangement due to symmetry and other reasons.
I fucking love it.

Link

The zombies are feasting.

The old die hard.	[Jan. 31st, 2007\|03:55 pm]
Go to your Calendar and find the first entry for each month of 2006. Post the first line of it in your journal, and that's your "Year In Review". JANUARY - APRIL: _toxic_stardust January 1st: I feel a drag. February 2nd: It's raining so incessantly that the sky matches my outfit. March 1st: Frank and Roseanna are coming by today. April 2nd: I decided on a new tattoo, and I'm considering tattooing as a career again. MAY - JUNE: bitch_salad May 8th: It's the last day of college for the year. June 3rd: It is a sick, sick hot. JULY - DECEMBER: valleyofthegun July 1st: I went to Missouri, and bought lots of explosives. August 1st: I finished The Prisoner of Azkaban at 3:40-something this morning and then dreamt that Harry, Ron, and some other Hogwarts kids snuck out to a tavern, and then went into a room where a woman was being terrorized by a foot-long grasshopper. September 1st: Scholarship brouhaha ensues. October 1st: Did not get to sleep last nite 'til near 5 am, mainly due to running out of gas less than 1 mile from house. November 6th: [Happy anniversary!] I've been sick officially one week! December 15th: Sam and I broke up. Could have been way, way better. Could have been worse.
Link	The zombies are feasting.

Happy Christmas

[Dec. 25th, 2006|07:54 pm]

[

Vagary

apathetic

]

Happy Holidays to everybody.
Thanks for all of the support on the last log-ins and such. And sorry it took so long to get back to you.
It was a wonderful day today and all of yesterday but the past couple of hours have sort of turned into the weeks before, but I'm progressing to the stage of "BETTER" bit by tiny bit. I have the next session with George on the 4th, so...I guess I'll have that to look forward to, after the New Year's party which will include some Tequila Rose my mother bought for mine + Ash's X.mas gift, and the <3 - Hunter S. Thompson alcohols [Wild Dog?] - <3 I discovered, with Ralph Steadman's art on the six packs. That part at least tickles me with joy, and the more mind-warping drinks/plants I have at my disposal, the better.

Link

1 zombie sacrifice.|The zombies are feasting.

(no subject)

[Dec. 15th, 2006|09:55 pm]

[

Vagary

numb

]

Oh, yeah...major exposure to mental illness as of lately...I suspect to be MISTAKEN for MDD [major depressive disorder], when as he admits, he is in a manic state, abruptly following a severely depressive state, I suspect...is it not?...Manic Depression. Well. Good. Fine. Whatever. Fuck it. I'm so happy. So, so, so, so happy. I want to die. God. Why. This is sad. This should change. I wanna be good, I wanna stick it out. I wanna fucking barf, and then be alone. I want him to be happy. As in...I want the past two months back.

As I was saying,
first therapy session is on Tuesday.
Mom wanted to drive me - yeah the fuck right.
I'm nineteen for chrissakes.
Just wait til the load of shit George digs up on my ass.

Link

3 feasted upon.|The zombies are feasting.

(no subject)	[Dec. 15th, 2006\|09:50 pm]
Sam and I broke up. & I'm getting interviewed by Heraldo Rivera.
Link	2 feasted upon.\|The zombies are feasting.