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the contractors are dopes. they put the tap thing on backwards so hot is cold and cold is hot and i haven’t showered still and i plan on going to this big party full of bankers and investors and people with expensive jackets and i am nervous ’cause i won’t know anyone, i’m going alone and i’ll be wearing dirty jeans and shoes and have aids-hair and i’ll probably be all loaded and say dumb shit. i wish i had an extra tape for my camera. hmmm. hmmm. i don’t think there is any place for me to obtain a tape right now. oh well. there’ll be more yuppie parties to attend in the future.

11 45pm i am now polishing off my bottle of sake and changing my shirt and then going to this fucking party dammit and im getting laid tonite by a stranger!

Laura is getting a house at the nigger beach!

Dear you

played RISK ’til 5 in the morning. my eyes were buuurning. such a heated game. such geeks. even had RISK-type army battle marching music blaring to make things more tense. i was going to quit at least ten times. everyone was accusing me of cheating and being wrong. everyone spoke over everyone else and 2 of the 4 players were drunk and stoned beyond belief. do you think i was one of these two? um hello?

i didn’t lose and i didn’t win. i lasted the entire game, i stabbed people in the back, made pacts, broke them on and on. i don’t think i can play that game for another 6 months. it will give me cancer.

not worth it.

i have a nerd working on because soon you will be able to buy stuff off it. like my drapes and my pieces of paper with scribbles on ‘em and nail polish remover.

people came over and gutted my downstairs bathroom so it no longer looks like aids is smeared all over the place from crackwhores washing themselves. it looks beautiful and i can’t wait to get hair-dye stains all over the white tiles. yes yes.

i’m going to get loaded and embarrass myself on that matchmaker show, toronto styles. i’ll get to ride around in a limo and have a friend an the fucking dork-host critique the whole blind date. yay!

fuckin’ YAH! i am listening to incesticide and it is beautiful. this brings me back to my bedroom in mississauga, comatose on my bedroom floor, fantasizing about finding kurt cobain in the woods, alive, and being his girlfriend. nice. loving and worshipping NIRVANA from grade 4 – grade 7 was so important to me and my older brother and his friends. it was like a contest who could learn more information about everything and anything for example, Kurt Cobain was 5′ 7 and 125 lbs up until the day he shot himself and he took ritalin and had chronic back pain from leaning way over his guitar from being left-handed and he got punched by his own security guard once and Bleach was recorded for 608 dollars etc etc…i was so fucking sad and couldn’t eat when that dude perished and i never smiled in fotos and i wore bad grunge clothes and everyone thought i was going to kill myself and my older brother and his friends called me a follower and a poser for liking NIRVANA. i bought all the tapes with the money i made from selling all my crappy toys at our garage sale when i was in grade 4. yes yes.

December 4th, 1994. CHRISTMAS DAY! 8:09am

This is torture! There are about 100 presents downstairs that are for me! And my brother and I aren’t allowed to go downstairs until 11:00am. I think i’ll put my clock an hour ahead! or I might just sneak downstairs. I’ll write back later when I’m finished opening presents! Bye! Merry Christmas!

Boxing Day 1:01pm – my room

This is what I got for Christmas: Nirvana Unplugged, Live in NYC, a cd player, eight hole (blue) Doc Martens, Beavis&Butthead game for Super Nintendo, Nitemare before Xmas VHS, Scattergories and other stuff.

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