Bobby
April 07, 2002 @ 7:10 p.m.
All right, I'm sufficiently headached. I suppose I should be doing something useful with my life, like homework or eating or something.
No. Rather, I am wasting away in Diaryland, and American On-Line Instant Messenger.
And I am happy. A little achy from this permanently-ass-reaming wooden chair, but happy.
Can you say, right now, that you're happy? If not, why not? And what are you doing about it to fix it?
I know. I'm being positive. Encouraging, even. What the hell? I know, y'all know me better than this. What can I say...no eating all day and an achy ass will do that to you.
Okay. People. Cool band links. Puddle of Mudd. Tantric. Fuel. That's all I really want to say. Download, purchase, worship. I dare you not to.
So. Bobby. Jessica's friend. A chronic poet. Been talking to him a bit. I like him. He's...different from everyone else I've met. He's me, in essence, from the little bit I know about both of us.
All right. I am so sick of thinking about boys. I'm going to try this whole not-get-involved-'cause-it'll-fuck-you-over-eventually thing.
Shah. Riiiight.
<< | >>
- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006