i know i am like totally the coolest person ever and i can’t help it that everything i say and do is beyond the realm of awesome.

yesterday my mum called me chunky.

we went to the drive-in to see skeleton key and the 40 year old virgin.

in the car next to us there was this chick with the hugest ass ever and every time she got up to mix a drink or whatever i was like FIL FIL FIL LOOOOOOOOOK.

i hate myself.

there’s a bicycle we’ve dubbed the liquor store bicycle. we take turns riding it to, where else? both tires are flat and only the right handbreak works, it’s an ugly yellow and the seat is too high. it really is an embarassment to be seen on so we normally take the backstreet. we never lock it and it never gets stolen.

i love that bike.

In 2003 lots of mediocre celebrities wrote children’s books for adult fans. Kid Koala decided to take his “Nufonia Must Fall” release and signing on the road, doing a live soundtrack to the illustrations in small clubs across, wherever. A piano and set of turntables playing to a slide show, except the slides never really advanced, and the book was mostly unremarkable and inevitably outshined by Bush dropping bombs on Baghdad that night.

Hey.

I had a dream where I met you and you lived in some government housing. But
it was nice shit and cost like $10 000 per year. Which seems steep for
government housing. I don’t think you have to pay for government housing.
Anyway, you showed me around the complex or whatever, and then we started to
fuck right outside. You should feel special because this was my first girly
dream ever. You said in the dream that you liked people to watch. But I
wasn’t really into it and quickly stopped. I don’t really know what any of
it means, nor do I care. I just think it’s fucked that I could dream about
someone I’ve only seen in pictures. And you were short in the dream. Are you
short in real life?

-Jessica

oh and it’s ok about all those gaylords who say nasty shit about me here cos they all live in those useless provinces like alberta and sasquatchewan. thank you.

sorry guys

i fucked up my toe last nite and i think i broke/sprained/somethinged it because when i walk i feel like i am going to fall over and i trip over this part of my toe that seems useless and bends back and forth too easily. i kicked the baseboard heater in the bathroom by accident and got the sharp corner of it and my toe split open and turned black and blue and bloody. guuuuuuh!!!!!!!

why am i so retarded?

i just took the bandaid off it and it looks all pussy and gangreney(sp?).

i fucking hate my hair and i am tired of being out of shape and i am not saying this to fish for compliments and the like and i don’t even want to hear the wah wah raymi you’re not fat bullshit it’s just how i feel. i totally have body dysmorphia though right now i know for a fact that i am nowhere near as thin as i was last summer. fuck this blog is turning into one of my gay journals from high school.

i am going to blowdry my hair now and see how i can hack away at it.

i think i am gonna cut my hair off some more cos obviously i like fuckin’ with a good thing. i want to go the route of insanely fucked up hipster hackjob mullet whatever. last nite i dreamt that i shaved half of my head and the other half was kind of long and it looked great.

last nite fil and i drank a whole bottle of vanilla stoli with orange juice and played burnout 3. i feel bad about the stoli cos i was kind of the istigator, fil wanted to save it for the weekend but i was all whispery munchkin voice can i have a drink? and the rest is history.

then of course about midnite i decided to cook all of the pasta in the entire universe and concoct a mystery ketchup parmesan pataks sauce which was actually quite good and fil had already passed out in bed and i woke him up and made him eat some of it.