Millions of peaches...
Juli, I really wish I could remember the songs we downloaded at your house last night. It seemed like a pretty good list. Of course, I get home and I cannot remember the songs I wanted to listen to.
There are a few things I'd like to address.
Rachel Sachs,
You haven't been on line and I always lose your cell phone number. It probably has become apparent to you by now that I was not allowed to come visit you, because, well. You know. My mother. I confidently declare this perfect grounds for you to display rampant mutiny upon my househould, while executing a deliberate kidnapping of myself to your headquarters, AKA: Purchase, or 130 West 11th Street.
Christopher Walken,
You need to become President.
Mrs. Spencer's 4th period art class,
All of you little shit-heads should really contract AIDS and retreat into a small corner humming Slayer until your innards rot out of ass.
Josh Toupin,
You don't even deserve a warning, that's being more than fair, it's being overly-generous, but, if you even think about showing up here anytime, especially when Autumn is here, I will personally place your ball sac at an angle in your throat that will allow you to exhale your last breaths into a scream while you choke. Her parents would thank me, too.
The Offspring, puppies, Dr.Pepper,
I love you.
And finally- Dear New Jersey 'hardcore',
I hope in the near future you manifest yourself in the form of a small deaf child, and get hit by a train.
No sooner a fan than an Asian priest,
Rachael
There are a few things I'd like to address.
Rachel Sachs,
You haven't been on line and I always lose your cell phone number. It probably has become apparent to you by now that I was not allowed to come visit you, because, well. You know. My mother. I confidently declare this perfect grounds for you to display rampant mutiny upon my househould, while executing a deliberate kidnapping of myself to your headquarters, AKA: Purchase, or 130 West 11th Street.
Christopher Walken,
You need to become President.
Mrs. Spencer's 4th period art class,
All of you little shit-heads should really contract AIDS and retreat into a small corner humming Slayer until your innards rot out of ass.
Josh Toupin,
You don't even deserve a warning, that's being more than fair, it's being overly-generous, but, if you even think about showing up here anytime, especially when Autumn is here, I will personally place your ball sac at an angle in your throat that will allow you to exhale your last breaths into a scream while you choke. Her parents would thank me, too.
The Offspring, puppies, Dr.Pepper,
I love you.
And finally- Dear New Jersey 'hardcore',
I hope in the near future you manifest yourself in the form of a small deaf child, and get hit by a train.
No sooner a fan than an Asian priest,
Rachael