February 13, 2003 :: 9:07 p.m.
bioterrorism in the bedroom
I am so fucking annoyed/irritated/offended right now that I can't even get into it. This entry would run out of your monitor and stain the floor and shit. I'm just... ugh. There aren't words.
I'm going to the lounge to call my mom and work on some things. When I come back, I am going to either go straight to sleep or stab Emily and her faux-Gothic companion in the face with a fork. Personally, I think the latter would be more therapeutic (not to mention loads of fun), but I fear the former will win out due to the fact that it's considerably less illegal. Dammit.
If anyone out there with access to smallpox or anthrax or the plague would be so kind as to get in touch with me ASAP, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
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