This week has been really fucking good. Unbelievable, really. Way better than the last two weeks, those weeks were assholes.

I got cast in a play. I auditioned for a play. I'm amazing. It's called 'Noises Off,' I play Tim. I'm gonna be just like my hero, big Jonnie Lith-King.

Last night, I had the most frustratingly tense dream ever. It was all about carjacking. No more chumscrubbing before bed.
Tomorrow, I will jump back into making retarded literary magazines. I cannot wait.

I have a secret admirer. That is obvious.

I just duct-tapped my straight-leg jeans into boot-cut.

On Wednesday, POSTMODERNISM was explained to me. Which was good, because it had been making me sick since Monday. I didn't sleep either, so it was an epiphany.

EV'RYTHING THAT PLAYS MUSIC HATES MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

If I popped one of my legs out of the hip socket, how do I get it back in?

Last night, I went hellahellahellahella trippin' at the GOTH CLUB


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