THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE

05-31-04 . 11:13 pm

I am listening to A Wilhem Scream (as if any of you care). They're really, really good.

And I am also failing to find things to sew onto my khaki military jacket that I got at a thrift store today because it is exceedingly dull. All I have found are some lovely skull and crossbones thingies and thrown some pins on it.

I have become increasingly irritated by people's facination with the letter X. It's sort of pathetic. I was looking on a bunch of diaries today, and there are all these stupid, stupid girls who think that adding the letter X (in replace for various other things) makes them seem sooooo hardcore.

Well, let me tell you: it makes you look like you fucking can't type.

Saying "Punx" instead of "Punks" just makes you look stupid (sorry Casualties- it fucking does).

And then their are the people who just add it randomly in between letters. I mean, ixn betwexen lettersx.

Because that's so fucking punxk.

Fuck all of you.

Anyway. I was talking to my mom about ways I could get out of doing the fucking play all together. She suggested becoming seriously ill.

Right I'll get ebola.

"Sorry, Mrs. Barryte- I'm afraid I just can't be in Damn Yankees. You see, I have blood spewing from my eyeballs and I don't want to ruin your precious costumes"

I'm sure that will work perfectly.

All I have to do is get some infected monkey to come and bite me.

So. If there are any ebola-infected monkeys out there, I'm right here.

Save me from this drama hell.

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