lets go to bed, i'm shaking like milk.
i'm gonna be a super model. fyi, this thing makes wizards fire. be scared.
i got some stickers. im going to pay gary tomorrow. i sleep on couches too much and am thankful. i actually havent lived on the computuor for a few days and have done physical labor including but not limitied to working a dance studio foto shoot where i sold pictures to gram ledger the news dude of his daughter. inhaling copious amounts of dust while werking with danny and brookulynn and other such peeps trying to make sense of a 89 year old recently passed mans estate which only inhabits a single roomed house with a garage and a rather large downstairs floor but included but was not limited to 8 lawwn mowers, 9 or 10 weedwackers, over 15 electric razors, paintings, guns, an impressive match collection, tons of maps, sewing stuff like buttons, zippers, and scraps in large amounts and all other mannor of a mans life including tax returns from the 50, letters home to his sweet heart from his stint as a young lad in a war. maps maps and more maps. life is funny sometimes, but not haha funny. the fight club qoute, " the things you own, end up owning you" and other such things like the die with your recipets gabe thing ring in my head. there is beauty in death and death in beauty. im gonna do an art piece and price it as "$50,000 obo" and put it up in the esco artist galery thing a jig. to qoute matt graham, " dude, i think i just farted shesha".
hiel 3
“Whenever one man, for whatever reason, has the opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself” - Jacques Cousteau