Oh jesus.
Can anyone say, Sabbatical?
'cause I can't.
but apparently spellcheck can, and that is good enough for me.
One
skip
two
three
four.
safe
gone.
I'm torn between wanting to spend every waking second out doing stuff, and wanting to curl up in my room with my hookah and read until spring.
Gaaaawd. Quelle un problem.
I'll just compromise and drink.
XD
God I hate myself.
Aw hell.
Fuck the man, you guys. y'know? "The Man" that only hippies can see?
Yeah, fuck him.
In the quiet moments between adverts on television, you think you are going insane.
Sirs: Today, aged 30, I retire from the field, renounce writing, burn all my effects, toss my latest manuscript on the dump, cry hail and fare thee well. Yrs., affect.
Dudley Stone
Earthquakes and avalanches; in that order.
WORK IS EATING MY LIFE.
Man, I had motherfucking BETTER be getting big bucks for this bullshit.
"Don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down, whether or not you ever show up?"
It's better to be pretty than human.
If by some odd chance I did end up fighting zombies with my shovel, I would want to be listening to Motorhead while doing it. I think that would really help put the odds on my side.
http://www.cri
</guilty pleasure>
I wonder what it would feel like to drink mercury. or swish it around in your mouth.
I googled evil indian burial grounds and got this:
http://obsidia
iTunes is fucked, but January is worse...I think.
If Jesus Were alive today, He would spend all night at a claw machine in wal-mart winning kids stuffed animals when they ask.
You know what is really, really nasty?
The sound of squishing wet marshmallows with your teeth.
Squuueeeerrrss
Booooy howdy I'm not feeling the love.
I could really dig a hug or something. Anything pleasant, really. I won't be picky.
Remember to forget and then re-name your shame.