Sep 15, 2006 21:55
I smell like Fazoli's.
Dirty Fazoli's. Dirty spaghetti.
Filthy.
Wet.
I like my job, though.
There are so many girls that I think are hot lately. And they find out, one way or another. I don't mind,
but what bothers me is I try so hard to get them to notice (without speaking to them, even, in some cases),
and when I finally succeed, I'm not much interested.
I smell like filthy Fazoli's.
It's not that it takes that long for them to notice.
There's no fun in knowing what you've accomplished, even though that's what I aim to do beforehand.
Filthy.
My friend Joseph and his girlfriend are wound-up in a game Kelsey and I used to play.
She gets a comment from a guy, he gets mad, tells her how it is and tries to put her in his shoes.
They then both delete their Myspaces to solve the problem.
Even if I could figure out how exactly to explain it to the both of them, even if I told them it is redundant and
how pointless it is to be doing what they're doing, they wouldn't listen.
I like my job.
Filthy.
And I've decided that in two weeks, I will visit Lexington for the first time in months.
I'll probably see Kelsey.
EDIT**
I'll try and get better at writing like Chuck Palahniuk