You know what really grinds my gears?
I am pretty sure I hate finals week. I am stressed as hell, it's quarter to 9 on a Wednesday morning and I have not slept yet. Fuck me. I fucking hate this. I hung out with Stitch tonight, which was glorious as always, I love that boy. But all the drama that might spin from this is just fucking ridiculous. Fuck Winona.
I just went through my facebook friends. And deleted several people. I am down from 230something to like 204. I can't stand fake friendships. If I don't talk to you, why are we "friends"? I have never seen you before in my life, what the hell are you adding me for? You don't like me, why are you pretending? You think that a higher friend count is going to make you look cool? What the hell.
I don't understand fake people. Those with an elastic personality. I just don't fucking get it. Why in the hell would someone pretend to be nice, go out of their way to be nice, if they are just going to turn around and talk shit?! I fucking hate that. Fucking a. I hate people that break their promises. Hardcore hate that.
I hate Winona. Stitch is breaking free, he has a car. I should hide in the back of his car and go with. I have to get out! Would LaCrosse be far enough away? Will the rumor cycle still slam me in the face there too? Right now, anything but here, seriously. I am so ready to say fuck this, fuck rent, fuck work, fuck everyone, fuck it all. Fuck me. I can't stand this lethargy that I have been in. I can't stand my life! There are so good things about me and my life right now that I just want to go hang myself in the bathroom! Jump off a cliff! I DON'T CARE END THIS NOW! (If it weren't for my dearest wife Rachie, and myself the Brister, I probably would. I have no other reasons not to, except maybe Superman. I really don't make that much of a difference in this world. Just burn me on a pyre people, dump the ashes in the head of the Mississippi.)
I feel like shit. Is that the winter talking? The fact that I have a dead end fucking job, no car, no money? No fucking life? Few real friends? I am so sick of all you fake fucks. What the fuck am I supposed to do with your fake friendship? Wax it and use it as matching coasters? Yeah, at what party? I can't fucking party with you, you are too busy avoiding me. Cause apparently I am a whore. Good joke. I like jokes, they are funny. I get jokes.
"Oh, Kelly's coming? I don't really want to see her right now, I'll hang out with you when you are done with her." WHAT THE FUCK PETTY BULLSHIT IS THAT?
Oh man, when Winona explodes in a firey explosion, it was me. I admit it. Prison would be better than this.
Big fucking boom. All done. All fucking done. And I have no worries anymore, no finals to worry about, no fucking rumors to dodge, no fucking anything. Too bad about the bluffs though, they sure are pretty...
I just went through my facebook friends. And deleted several people. I am down from 230something to like 204. I can't stand fake friendships. If I don't talk to you, why are we "friends"? I have never seen you before in my life, what the hell are you adding me for? You don't like me, why are you pretending? You think that a higher friend count is going to make you look cool? What the hell.
I don't understand fake people. Those with an elastic personality. I just don't fucking get it. Why in the hell would someone pretend to be nice, go out of their way to be nice, if they are just going to turn around and talk shit?! I fucking hate that. Fucking a. I hate people that break their promises. Hardcore hate that.
I hate Winona. Stitch is breaking free, he has a car. I should hide in the back of his car and go with. I have to get out! Would LaCrosse be far enough away? Will the rumor cycle still slam me in the face there too? Right now, anything but here, seriously. I am so ready to say fuck this, fuck rent, fuck work, fuck everyone, fuck it all. Fuck me. I can't stand this lethargy that I have been in. I can't stand my life! There are so good things about me and my life right now that I just want to go hang myself in the bathroom! Jump off a cliff! I DON'T CARE END THIS NOW! (If it weren't for my dearest wife Rachie, and myself the Brister, I probably would. I have no other reasons not to, except maybe Superman. I really don't make that much of a difference in this world. Just burn me on a pyre people, dump the ashes in the head of the Mississippi.)
I feel like shit. Is that the winter talking? The fact that I have a dead end fucking job, no car, no money? No fucking life? Few real friends? I am so sick of all you fake fucks. What the fuck am I supposed to do with your fake friendship? Wax it and use it as matching coasters? Yeah, at what party? I can't fucking party with you, you are too busy avoiding me. Cause apparently I am a whore. Good joke. I like jokes, they are funny. I get jokes.
"Oh, Kelly's coming? I don't really want to see her right now, I'll hang out with you when you are done with her." WHAT THE FUCK PETTY BULLSHIT IS THAT?
Oh man, when Winona explodes in a firey explosion, it was me. I admit it. Prison would be better than this.
Big fucking boom. All done. All fucking done. And I have no worries anymore, no finals to worry about, no fucking rumors to dodge, no fucking anything. Too bad about the bluffs though, they sure are pretty...