And it’s a sad, sad world, when a girl will break a boy just because she can.

Jesus Christ Bananas, somebody go to the Binary-Mart and purchase one HUGE mafuckin CyberTampon, because everyone on the internet is about to have their InterPeriods.
MAN OH MAN, I haven’t seen vagina’s THIS sore since the Great Sandy Vagina Fair of Ought Five!
Okay, all that imagery was really gross, and I apologize.
It’s just ca-razy!
All the shit that went down here, and now HBF, and it’s spreading like the fucking T virus, and all us Bloggers are stumbling around trying to eat everyone’s brains.
Wow. Zombies AND bleeding vaginas, and I haven’t even gotten to the fifth paragraph yet.
Much better.
Okay, all that out of the way, I spent the day… eating hay down by the bay.
I mean, sleeping. You can all thank Mister Pintado for that one.
And Frank, the Green Room Bartender. Why you gots to make such delicious wares, my good man?
I also caught the movie Win a Date with Tad Hamilton.
If only I had brought my portable DVD player to the theater with me…
I could have tossed it through the screen, and then been forced to leave the theater by management.
But NO, I had to SIT THROUGH IT, because my MOM paid for the TICKET, and ACTUALLY ENJOYED THE MOVIE, even though it was SWEET HOME ALABAMA, only DIFFERENT, and MORE SUCKY, IF THAT’S EVEN POSSIBLE.
In the first 15 minutes, the movie grinded painfully to a halt, and then seemed to somehow continue grinding further, even though it was already halted. Possibly going backwards.
I kept rubbing my eyes and stretching them in different directions, hoping to distort my vision into something else, and imagining a new soundtrack in my mind, but to no avail.
The only saving GRACE (HA!) was Topher’s character, which I don’t even remember much of, except for my imagining making out with him.
How do you write a whole movie with such unlikable, 2-dimentional characters that fucking MAKE FUN OF THEMSELVES?
Okay, I’ll stop. Just please, please don’t see this movie.
Think of the children.
…Who will grow up and keep making movies like this unless they know it is wrong.
Well, next week, my life could be very different.
It’s very strange.
Dear Self of Next Week,
I hope everything is okay. If not, don’t worry! You’ll find a place/get a new job! Don’t worry!
NO, PUT DOWN THE PILLS.
What’s that, Self? Those are just vitamin pills? You GOT the place/new job?
THAT’S STUPENDOUS!!!!!
Also, someone fell in love with you, and you get the chance to trample on their heart, as so many others have done and are still currently doing to you?
And now it’s payback on some unwitting sap who you won’t meet until the day after this writing, and you finally get the chance to make a boy cry right in front of you?
RIGHT BEFORE VALENTINE’S DAY, too! Man! How romantic!
You are one lucky bitch.
Love,
Self of Last Week
I should probably be on some form of medication.