Ward’s at his aunt’s funeral and he sees this lightswitch not realizing that it works the light overtop of the casket, so he flicks it on and off and on and off again and again like a psychotic little twit. all his sad and crying old relatives are all bug-eyed when they see the light flickering violently over the casket and they must think it’s some sorta message from beyond the grave or whuddever, and they look around frantically not knowing what to do or say, so they just gasp. GASP. I think Ward got a talking-to for doing that and maybe a slap on the hand. Who knows. The funny thing is, Ward doesn’t make the connection until after the fact when it’s too late.
I remember this picture taken of me two summers ago and feeling sad that whole weekend. I was so bored and I missed my boyfriend. Look at my slutty hair. meh. We’re not dating anymore. That was way, way back in the day.
This is so BoreeNG. i’m tired of playing Candyland by myself. I have no motivation to get up and outta the howse only becuz once out, i know i’d just be sitting elsewhere, doing nothing. heck, i might have a drink in my hand, but i’d still be bored and i’d still be annoyed and angry and snap at every little thing. My nose is cold. so are my hands. And feet. Ahhh, suhweeet TV set. Always there for me.
Whut? These blog people think i’m not interesting enuff to make ‘blog of the week’? Hrmmph. I’ll show ‘em. I’ll show all of ‘em. Just wait.
I just realised that i’ve been wearing the same socks for three days in a row. They keep resurfacing in my drawer. I’ve come to this conclusion becuz now that my shoes are off, it smells like somebody died in here weeks ago.
K, welp, i’m outta the howse now. beeswax and bedhead are a bad combo. I can’t wait to pick my nose once it thaws out frum this blasted kold. mike’s basement loox like a sweatshoppe. iz funny. “Smells like chinese.” whut i say to him every time i walk in. these three black guys made fun of our hats when we walked past in front of No Fr i l l s. we’s gunna figger out how to post a guestbook here so all three people who read my blog can make intelligent insults about me. U clever people, you.
Everyone’s startin’ to get real annoyed wif me ’round here. “Uh ray, don’t you have sumpin’ you should be doin’ tonite? Like…..sumwhere to be?” hmmmph. ffuk you. You always complain and moan that i am never home and now that i AM home you want me to go out. jeeezus. My dad’s all excited and is out now renting moovies and getting popkorn and “Coke! Dad, don’t forget to get me COKE!!!” and my mum is lookin’ in disgust at me while i pick at my face. My brother sez my hair loox all ugly. I learned on Oprah that you can get red wine out of yer rug by using white wine to neutralize it. kool eh. Think at the next wine-party i go to, if sumwun spills red wine, i’ll lunge at the spot with a glass of white wine and everyone will cheer and applaud and this circle of light will shine all ’round me. ahhh. Maybe i’ll throw myself together and go out into the world. ugggghhhffffff….. achy head.
HANG oveR. …urrggh. It’s 3 12 pm and i am still in my pajamas, messy hair-ed and have not even considered brushing my teeth. Think i’lljust stay in and watch tv, eat, nap and bug everyone else around here. I’m on bottle of water numero 4. I don’t know if i wanna say what happened last nite, or not. hrrrmm….we’ll see. I smell.
