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Today was really fucking A
I got out of bed because I had to throw up. I'm really sick. I mean REALLY sick.
I feel a bit strange because we've just moved to Idaho and there's a weird smell in the house.
I'm so hardcore. Me and Buzz went to the mall today, and I stole a whole heap of stuff. I got a Good Charlotte CD, a couple of DVDs and some new boots. Buzz got caught, but he fought his way out, and then we stole some lady's car and smashed it into a phone booth.
Last night I had to shave my entire body. Apparently, the lice that I caught from Amanda's friend are really hard to get rid of. I look quite strange with no hair and eyebrows. I'd post pictures, but my webcam is broken.
I want to tell the world that I'm gay.
I am sharpening my knives before I go to work today, because I'm going to cut out Robert's heart and feed it to him for losing my mail.
Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! Here's some photos of my girlfriend in the nude (but don't tell her that I've posted them here - she'll kill me! Har har.)
I want to say thanks to the world for absolutely fucking nothing! You all suck. I feel so alone, no one ever reads this journal, or even comments to let me know that I'm not suffering alone. It's cold here, and I want to die, but I cannot figure out how many of you to take with me when I go.
I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have bipolar disorder, just like my best friend Sally.
You should all do this quiz! It's amazingly accurate. You just put in your name and birthday, and it will tell you you're a moron.
That's enough for now. But I'll leave you with this poem I wrote. It's about my friend Robert, who has bipolar disorder. Just like me. And Heidi.
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Today was really fucking A
I got out of bed because I had to throw up. I'm really sick. I mean REALLY sick.
I feel a bit strange because we've just moved to Idaho and there's a weird smell in the house.
I'm so hardcore. Me and Buzz went to the mall today, and I stole a whole heap of stuff. I got a Good Charlotte CD, a couple of DVDs and some new boots. Buzz got caught, but he fought his way out, and then we stole some lady's car and smashed it into a phone booth.
Last night I had to shave my entire body. Apparently, the lice that I caught from Amanda's friend are really hard to get rid of. I look quite strange with no hair and eyebrows. I'd post pictures, but my webcam is broken.
I want to tell the world that I'm gay.
I am sharpening my knives before I go to work today, because I'm going to cut out Robert's heart and feed it to him for losing my mail.
Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! Here's some photos of my girlfriend in the nude (but don't tell her that I've posted them here - she'll kill me! Har har.)
I want to say thanks to the world for absolutely fucking nothing! You all suck. I feel so alone, no one ever reads this journal, or even comments to let me know that I'm not suffering alone. It's cold here, and I want to die, but I cannot figure out how many of you to take with me when I go.
I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have bipolar disorder, just like my best friend Sally.
You should all do this quiz! It's amazingly accurate. You just put in your name and birthday, and it will tell you you're a moron.
That's enough for now. But I'll leave you with this poem I wrote. It's about my friend Robert, who has bipolar disorder. Just like me. And Heidi.
Created with the Gregor's Semi-Automatic LiveJournal Updater™. Update your journal today!
Powered by Rum and Monkey