currently: I'm not on drugs, really, I'm not

*silence*

hmmm... my head hurts. Work still sucks. I still hate school. "And, yes, I am the antichrist.... and, babe, I've got the blues. Now ain't that some shit, ladies? Whenever I win, I lose." That's from a song I wrote when I was in high school. I wrote it on the back of the t-shirt I'm making Toni. In runes, anyway, so she can wear it to work if she likes. Then no one can tell her that her shirt has writing on it. For some reason they don't count foreign languages as writing. Dumb.

Ow. My head still hurts.

I took some tests. They were amusing.

Which Anne Rice Vampire are you?
by Tera

What were you in a past life?

That's all for now. *ow ow ow ow*

8:51pm

currently: SPLURT!

*listening to David Bowie, Hours...*

what did you do today? i did nothing. didn't feel like doing anything. blah. i only work 4 hours tomorrow. joy. oh glorious joy. yeah. i definitely need drugs. or a big frozen aardvark. or a big axe. wherefore doest thou glare at me so? i must retreat into the deep dark despairing dark danky pit of doom now. they have peeps there.

As you have probably already had a dose or two of flammable cheese today, I shall spare you the peanut log and claw my way right into your vicera.

MMM colon.

and now, a quote, "Oh my God! Somebody put shit in my pants!"

Now back to my dribblings.

The allure of a pointy object puncturing my skin.... AIIIEEEEE! Bleed me! Bleed me like a little goat on an altar!

As you can see, Fyx's brain has temporarily vacated the area and so you are left with this... tripe. Our apologies to those seeking the usual introspective diary babble of the unholy buttfork.
I am not an unholy bu..
SILENCE, MORTAL!

As we were saying, Fyx is unavailable at the moment. We are diligently working to ressurect her vital organs in a vain attempt to save her overalls. We like overalls. Especially the kind that fall in the toilet when one stands up after excreting bodily fluids.

Upon the shelf sits one lonely can of beans. We do not consume beans. They're merely there for our amusement. We lied. There is no shelf. We wish there were a shelf on which to place cans of beans. That would be nice, yes?

We, the voices in Fyx's head, are relinquishing control once more to the microscopically minded heroine of this story.

Next time I tell you fuckers to shut the fuck up, you damn well better shut up! I'll get the crowbar again, I swear it!

-meep-

Pay them no mind. They like to date frustrated virgins for entertainment, so they really can't be taken seriously.

Did you say something about frustrated virgins, your celibateness?

*grabs crowbar* GRARRRrrr.

Oh, our slave has arrived. No more time for you, diary.

10:00pm

currently: wackadoo in the head muches

*listening to Haujobb, Polarity*

SPARE SPARE YOU SAY!?!?

I don't have time to spare anyone my feelings. I tell them what's on my mind, then wait for some sort of response... so I can gauge what manner of escape to take.

I shall punish the fruity!

I shall smite the smeggy. I shall... stop reading Squee! before my head explodes and covers my walls in goo.

Why, oh, why must I be cursed with this infantile brain which wishes to escape my skillet? Tonight, it throbs with excessive buffalo chips. I guess, maybe, it was that over-the-counter speed I took earlier.

Just look at this mess I am typing up to smear across your screen! It is empty and beautiful and beautifully empty!

How easily we are excited at the prospect of fucking when the moon is full and the glands swollen. Or was that moon swollen and glands full?

I do not know why I am writing this. I am still plagued by evil blood demons trying to escape my insides. fyx is on the rag What the fuck did you tell them that for? They could have figured it out!? nehehehehe Oh, fuck you, you anal rash.

Painfully, the glistening mesiah does unfold from his cacoon. Or some shit. And then he cries, "why do you not enjoy my seven?"

esoteria

OI! I cut off my nails! wahhhh. I am naked!

You keep ignoring me, and I'm only going to grow more disgusting on your back.... like a hairy mole.

But I don't need you! I have more important people to occupy my time. Like a sexy little fluff ball that is all mine.

Okay.... So, he's not all mine. But in my perverted little head, he is. And that's all that matters. That and my subwoofers.

It's fecking hot in here. Maybe my wetware is overheating. I go rest now. I rest of the softness of imaginary muscle. MMmm legs.

b'bye