Right-O. I've stopped thinking rationally a long time ago. Still debating on getting the old chop-a-roonie done to the old mop top. Alright, it's not really a mop top but some sort of shoulder length of hideiousness. I cannot spell. I lost that ability along with the education of college. Wow. It all went down the drain. Love gets in the way of living. Lust gets in the way of fantasy. Real boys fuck me up so badly. So many boys have better haircuts than I do. Why is this? I want to be a boy. No, I want to have a boy's haircut. Boys hair = better than a girl's.

I want Derek. Come mess me up sometime, ok. (Alright, the weirdest thing just happened. Just as I was typing that he came online. Is that a fucking sign or what? That scared me. It scared the fucking shit out of me.)

I'm gone. Passed out. Lata. 
¶ 7:06 PM |