Um...journal entries. Wow. First we had diaries. Then men wanted in on this maudlin shit. But a 'diary' is too fruity-ass, so it's a 'journal'. Wellll, journal, I'm sick of hangin' out at work, mopping floors, making coffee, and listening to drunk-ass mexicans. Not that I don't like drunk-ass mexicans, but they yell-in spanish. Which, I guess, is o.k. 'Cause at least then I don't know he's calling his daughter a whore, like I Do with the drunk-ass wonder bread graymeat cracker. Anyways.
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