graciepie

man, this not having a place to live shit sucks. floors dont make good beds.

we washed the dirty ass car today... that was wet fun. i got some tattoos yesterday and met nixon for just a second before i left oakland to come home.'

it was fuckin cold last night waiting for the train... hella breezy in my fuckin little weeny sweater...

the fourth was cool... went to seabright in santa cruz. i almost got blown up a few times. danny lit a roman candle and instead of launching it kinda poofed into my bag and then exploded, so now my bag smells like explosion. then this guy packed a mortor and instead of launching it exploded the launch tube and showered this poor kid with sparkling fire. he wasnt hurt, just traumatized, so yea. and then, somehow, peter got a hold of an m1000 and just about killed all of us, my ears are still ringing a bit.

other than that, nothing eventful. my work hates me. told me not to come in today, so i only have 9 hours this week. any one wanna pay me to do stuff? im handy!

any ways... maybe ill stop eating up bandwith here and pack my shit and go back to my moms house for a bit or something. im starting to get tank ass from sitting here...

someone hit me up please... give me a job and a place to live...