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Random Crap to Talk About
2003-07-24, 10:38 p.m.

WARNING!!!! If you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of reading things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is okay to read, save yourself, and me, the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, I.E. my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. This I hope you keep in mind, and thank you for reading.

I tried looking around for other diaries to get interested in. I do this every so often for no reason. No good reason except to get friends, but I don't communicate with them or anything. I went to another diary site to look at some, and everyone's there were really short.

"The less I write, the longer it takes me."

I don't know who's quote that was, but it JUST popped into my head. I remember reading it on a poster in my English class. In eighth grade. What the hell? Weird.

Today, Doug and I were making "R Rated" signs. Doug's were really cool because he has this kickass program that makes it really easy. After he got it situated, he could make it say whatever he wanted. I wanted a sign that said "R for Strong Language and brief Nudity." He got not only that, but rated X for X-citing and rated (.) for boobies.

Boob. Say that a couple times, doesn't that sound so stupid? Vicky says boobs, haha, its weird. I wonder if there is some secret behind that word to show what kind of person you are. I say breasts. Figure it out.

I was going to take Doug to the movies tonight. To see "The Hulk." I asked my mom, she was going away for the night so she didn't care. At the time, I was also asking her if I could spend the night at McB's tomorrow.

Then she told me to ask earlier. "But if I do that, you can always take it away!"

"You can't go to the movies tonight."

*Walks outside* "FUCK!"

JUST trying to piss me off. That's it.

I keep getting a HUGE urge to say "YOU are a VERY immature parent who doesn't deserve to have kids. Wait, you deserve HUNDREDS of kids. Think of all the stress THERE!"

I noticed something just now, when I type, I don't delete something unless I spell it wrong. (Sometimes I still don't delete it, because I don't notice it) I keep typing because MAYBE it sounds funny. Random is the essence of funny.

Mom doesn't deserve stress. Nobody does. Stress kills people. That's the main cause, I'm sure. It affects car crashes, I'm sure of that. People are stressed, they drink, and then BOOM! they get hit by a tree.

Quote of the Day:

"Its kinda hard to drive my car with a tree in it!" -Jason Lee from "Heart Breakers." Good movie.

We watched part of "Heart Breakers" at Chelsey's.

While we were watching it, it had only been one day before, exactly one day before that a teen ager, someone to be a senior in high school this next year, got in a car crash. Three people, in a car, hit a tree, passenger (front seat) died, and the other two are seriously injured.

The one who died was the son of my gym teacher. My gym teacher from eighth grade.

Well, Mom told me I couldn't have Doug come to the movie with me. Later, on the phone, she asked me what I was doing.

"Pouting around because I can't go see the movie."

"We need to talk when I get home."

"No we don't, I understand. I understand you parents."

I hate parents. My kids will NOT hate me. They can stay up late, swear (just not in school), and each kid will be three to four years apart. Four years sounds good.

Mom said that she doesn't have that many friends. We've been trying to get a group together to go to Cedar Point. She has nobody to go with. Nobody to take, no other driver. When I'm a parent, I hope I don't become really anti-social. Sometimes, I don't like meeting new people. I don't think I'll be living in Williamston, so I'll meet some new people.

*Changes into green robe and pants*

Okay. What the hell was I talking about? Other diaries, R rated, boobies, movies, death by tree, parents. Okay, talking about nothing.

Tomorrow, I have to go to my Grandpa's to work. WORKing during the summer. Getting a good work out, that's for sure. Bailing straw. Farming. First day always the most terrible. Need to get in shape. Well, I sure as hell have NOT been sitting my ass on this leather chair here all summer.

ALSO, I have not been sleeping all summer! HA!

I've been laying down in Vicky's bed, and sitting my ass in other people's chairs.

But not ALL summer.

Well, I have nothing to look forward to tomorrow. We're going up north JUST so I can't stay at McB's. Then, next THURSDAY, and I swear to God it had better be Thursday and not Wednesday or ELSE.

Or ELSE sounds really scary. I'll be really pissed off though.

This weekend, I'll try to make it hell JUST to show my parents how much shit they'll have to deal with NEXT weekend. That's another FOUR day weekend!

The Fat One is screaming "HOW COME CHRISTOPHER's STILL ON the COMPUTER?!?!"

"Get a God damned LIFE, bitch!" I hate her! HATE HATE HATE! I wish I could say that. The life/bitch thing.

Its summer, I have a bedtime. I'm gonna go for a walk around 2am. Last night I met Vicky around 2am by the high school. Nothin much, but another first time thing.

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