shhhit…

it’s now something like 4:45 in the morning and i’m taking an online anxiety test. someone please tell me to go to bed. unnnnnnngh.

i feel like a robot. i am a fucking robot.

there’s this sign hangin’ from the ceiling at work that i have tried to reach for 3.5 years. yesterday i took a running jump at it over fifty times but still can’t touch the durn thing. tomorrow i will eat a powershake and conquer that mo’fo sign!

alright so let me explain the drunken post.

went to three drinking establishments last nite. one, a pub. two, a bar w/ dancefloor. three, a nudey bar.

misplaced many things, walked into something and hurt my shoulder (now have big nasty bruise). practically give all my money to dancin’ sluts. guys i went with turned into assholes. two black dudes try to convince me to leave the club with them. went home. passed out.

i bring the people information.

click that link bitch.

All you need to know about queefs

i am so beyone shitfaced i have no idea how i was able to funki turn on my goddam compiuter fuckin fuck i cant believbe i do t have alcohol poisoning went to strip clun gaVE ALL MY money away take it fuck in ho slut cootie qhore take my 5 dollar billl cock teasing dfuclker all boy frineds are fucks get nmad i get hit on by dudes not my fault assholwe trash fuckers excuse me while i go throw up and pass out and walk into oncoming trasffic. fucker i g odie now

i wrote this real long fancy post about how much i suck at selling weed but then my computer decided to turn itself off so now i don’t feel like re-listing all reasons with my usual dumb comments thrown in so i’ll just say it straight.

i don’t have standards, i am too nice, i don’t hang around the ‘hood enough, i am too lazy, i don’t sell in large quantities i don’t try to match the competition and i smoke too much of my product.

you can look forward to a nice ‘n dirty farticle on pussy farts very very soon.

ffffft phhhhht phhht ttttt ffffffffrrrrrrrrhhhhhhtt ffft

went to mod nite last nite. seems these days all u gotta do to be mod is own a dirty sweater and have big messy hair. constructed sad bastard origami from beer labels and receipts. was caught in the rain today and almost got a ticket for walking across the street on an amber light. however, i was crazily pissed off and looked like a sea hag so the cop changed his mind and decided to let me go w/o penalty.

tonite it’s dancin’ with the gurls at some meat market. these type like to get all fancy and shit. i am not in the mood to be noticed and humped and grabbed so i think i’ll sport a gramma sweater. it’s 2 dollar beer nite so i think it’s a good idea i make an appearance.

if you need me ladies, i’ll be the one propping up the end of the bar….

caught this raver girl i work with sniffing paint fumes yesterday. She decided to cut her hair in the shower and now has little hack marks on her neck. she is failing her religion class and her dad wants to put bars on the windows to keep her in or something dumb like that. everytime i speak with her i try and talk some sense, but i think it’s pointless since the advice is coming from me. it would be like the deaf leading the dumb leading the blind or whatever, i’m not up for it.