It's All About Control, And How You Gonna Take It.
I take it with the undeniable force of my will.
Behold, the grandity that sits before you incandescent splendor. Haha.
Anyway.
Oh the days drag by.
I want to be outside of this loathsome country.
I'm in the process of getting a job at one of those cinder block storage facilities, they make them too.
Ten bucks an hour and working with felons.
It's like my dream job.
I'm probably going to start selling Palettes, too.
Ten bucks a pop.
Then use that money to start selling weed in good ol' H Town.
Won't that be a fucking thrill and a half.
Court systems. I go back to Rosenberg on the thirtieth to get this community service done. And see my God forsaken Probation officer. Keep the fingers crossed that I come out with a Hearty UA test showing I do nothing of any illegal kind.
It would mean so much to me, don't you know.
Actually I really don't care because I don't need any of you fucking pathetic bastards fucking my karma up since I know I'm more than capable of doing it all on my own.
You're all fucking useless, really.
But I digress.
I finished boarding off the house so the dogs can no longer tear screens apart.
I hate dogs.
This one dog they have, Bosley.
He isn't too bad.
She's got some skin condition though, so I don't fuck with him too much.
The other dog is some Beagle and before I leave this house it will be dead.
Personally if you insist on having a pet. Get a cat.
Cats don't run their bodies through your screens when the windows are open, or if they're locked in a breezeway.
Cats may occasionally claw your furniture up.
But oh hey.
Rip their fucking claws out.
I need to take a new picture of myself. I've been looking through my pictures. The most recent picture of me is from months ago. When I first visited here. Maybe a year ago.
Well.
Seven months.
Then the one before that is the few they got of me at the wedding.
I'm in the fucking tux in those. So yeah, I need to get my webcam set up in this house.
Then I'll be happy.
Get to grace the world with bedazzling pictures of everything I fucking am.
I'm going to take pictures of my middle finger and place it all over this diary. I think.
Who knows.
Who knows....
Oh well, enough banter for Narnia.
Let those of you wallowing around in your own putrid and pathetic lives come bask at this.
My wonders.
Adieu.
Behold, the grandity that sits before you incandescent splendor. Haha.
Anyway.
Oh the days drag by.
I want to be outside of this loathsome country.
I'm in the process of getting a job at one of those cinder block storage facilities, they make them too.
Ten bucks an hour and working with felons.
It's like my dream job.
I'm probably going to start selling Palettes, too.
Ten bucks a pop.
Then use that money to start selling weed in good ol' H Town.
Won't that be a fucking thrill and a half.
Court systems. I go back to Rosenberg on the thirtieth to get this community service done. And see my God forsaken Probation officer. Keep the fingers crossed that I come out with a Hearty UA test showing I do nothing of any illegal kind.
It would mean so much to me, don't you know.
Actually I really don't care because I don't need any of you fucking pathetic bastards fucking my karma up since I know I'm more than capable of doing it all on my own.
You're all fucking useless, really.
But I digress.
I finished boarding off the house so the dogs can no longer tear screens apart.
I hate dogs.
This one dog they have, Bosley.
He isn't too bad.
She's got some skin condition though, so I don't fuck with him too much.
The other dog is some Beagle and before I leave this house it will be dead.
Personally if you insist on having a pet. Get a cat.
Cats don't run their bodies through your screens when the windows are open, or if they're locked in a breezeway.
Cats may occasionally claw your furniture up.
But oh hey.
Rip their fucking claws out.
I need to take a new picture of myself. I've been looking through my pictures. The most recent picture of me is from months ago. When I first visited here. Maybe a year ago.
Well.
Seven months.
Then the one before that is the few they got of me at the wedding.
I'm in the fucking tux in those. So yeah, I need to get my webcam set up in this house.
Then I'll be happy.
Get to grace the world with bedazzling pictures of everything I fucking am.
I'm going to take pictures of my middle finger and place it all over this diary. I think.
Who knows.
Who knows....
Oh well, enough banter for Narnia.
Let those of you wallowing around in your own putrid and pathetic lives come bask at this.
My wonders.
Adieu.