this is how i do my grocery shopping also
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look what jared made me. custom too. ask him to do one for you, say i sent you and don’t be a cheapskate either. it’s also his birthday tomorrow.
three seconds after i wrote that yesterday was a 1 my friend sarah called and came over and we got booze and the day turned into an 8 thought you might like to know that. days i wake up early tend to be melodramatic cos i’m all there are too many hours and not enough macaroni to glue to craft paper type shit anyway today is better cos i slept in and cid licked my hand for twenty minutes.
DEAR EVERYONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THIS EVEN MEANS:
Raymi,
Thanks for your email. I doubt that you are a regular listener to the program or MIX FM as you wouldn’t be making these comments with regard
to this segment. I have been to your blog and I have no comments.
Regards,
Karen Steele
Program Director – 99.9 MIX FM
2 St.Clair Avenue West, 2nd Floor
Toronto, Ontario
M4V 1L6
does she mean that if i was a listener then i wouldn’t be insulted or making comments therefore it’s ok to have a carney segment also justifying her non-response? wait wait because she is sherlock holmes she figured i am not a listener like HAHA you are a FAKE i have dodged your sneaky email plan muahaha?
wtf.
so far today is scoring less than 1
i am removing myself from the computer and the internet
at least i have been able to write my story more
here i come wine
i can’t think or dream big anymore i can’t think of anything i would want to do with money if i got more of it, i don’t think in terms of yachts and three piece suits and other shit i think in terms of fuck i don’t even know, i think in twenty dollar increments and if i were to be a millionaire i would be the poorest millionaire there was.
still i’m pretty greedy though.
i just picture myself as crummy and pathetic and thoughtless and destitute, even when i have money i picture it being gone, taken away, i don’t deserve it. i see myself sitting on a stack of influential books and i’m the only one who doesn’t get them and my tea is luke-cold the rent is overdue there’s a draft and my hair is scraggily and yet i can write these little stories i dunno.
i probably won’t have kids either.
nobody called me yesterday, my fone didn’t ring at all i want to throw it in the garbage.
