"how much older can you be at your age?"
Sooooo...day off tomorrow. To do college applications.
And...wow...this weekend will suck. I hate work. I don't want to work there anymore. I hate school. I hate those bastards in the stairwells. I hate people who, when I cut through the Blockbuster parking lot, walk slowly in front of my car. Fat bitches. Oh, just look at me and then diffuse and block the entire span of pavement. Like a friggin'...I dunno, amoeba (that makes no sense). You'll be a lot fatter when I flatten you. Er...with my car that's smaller than you are.
Poor little Echo. It'd be smashed like a tin can.
Honestly I really don't get it. And by 'it' I mean slow-walking fat people
No offense. And I'll probably feel bad for saying that later, but for now I'm just supremely...irritated. Like I am every day. Oh, and new project for Government! wtf, mate? That weird little balding-or-badly-dyed Greek woman can kiss the hood of my car as well.
Upside: 114 on my English test; downside: I'm pretty sure I didn't pass that quote/essay test with a stellar grade. I suppose it'll all even out...because of karma...or something...
I don't even know.
Life is short. Unless, of course, you're hanging by your eyelids from two metal chains attached to a crane, waiting for help to arrive, in which case time tends to drag a bit.
--Tom Sims