I.GOT.THE.MOTHER.FUCKING.APARTMENT.
that's right, babies. hopefully as of the 1st of the month or round about, i shall be happily planted on top of the embalming room of somerset undertaking. ALONE. did i mention, i'll be living alone?
a mad relief. a mad. mad. relief.
also- i must return to work tomorrow. my name has been cleared. i don't know if i actually updated about it, but i was pulled off the floor at the tard farm for abuse.
your question?: did i do it?
fuck no, asshole. this bitch turns people in every month. unfortunately, or not (for the sake of my job, as unlovely as it may be) i do not have the rest of the week off as was planned. moving will be difficult. but you know. money is also good. i can't find a bag here to save.my.life.
insert grand, dramatic sigh.
and my hand goes for the wine and the pills. i have not slept in days and now. might be the time. if my neighbors would only die quiet deaths and the noise would stop.
as a side note for beck: i ran into fuckhole's new bitch today- wearing jules' clothes and staring at me through the car window. i would have climbed through that window to get at her. just to send her home bloody and bruised to the POS that killed jules.
she follwed us down 27 and into the old wal-mart place and i stood, in my fantastic 5'10-ness, waiting for her to come near me. hoping. praying. wanting.
however. sadly. so sadly. she drove around and merely stared, perhaps called the devil himself to inform him of my location but that's all right. she can run, but beck, baby. you know as well as i. she cannot hide.
such pleasure could be had. and then i think. oh mel. how violent thou art.
and then. fuck it.
you'd understand if you had the whole story.
that's right, babies. hopefully as of the 1st of the month or round about, i shall be happily planted on top of the embalming room of somerset undertaking. ALONE. did i mention, i'll be living alone?
a mad relief. a mad. mad. relief.
also- i must return to work tomorrow. my name has been cleared. i don't know if i actually updated about it, but i was pulled off the floor at the tard farm for abuse.
your question?: did i do it?
fuck no, asshole. this bitch turns people in every month. unfortunately, or not (for the sake of my job, as unlovely as it may be) i do not have the rest of the week off as was planned. moving will be difficult. but you know. money is also good. i can't find a bag here to save.my.life.
insert grand, dramatic sigh.
and my hand goes for the wine and the pills. i have not slept in days and now. might be the time. if my neighbors would only die quiet deaths and the noise would stop.
as a side note for beck: i ran into fuckhole's new bitch today- wearing jules' clothes and staring at me through the car window. i would have climbed through that window to get at her. just to send her home bloody and bruised to the POS that killed jules.
she follwed us down 27 and into the old wal-mart place and i stood, in my fantastic 5'10-ness, waiting for her to come near me. hoping. praying. wanting.
however. sadly. so sadly. she drove around and merely stared, perhaps called the devil himself to inform him of my location but that's all right. she can run, but beck, baby. you know as well as i. she cannot hide.
such pleasure could be had. and then i think. oh mel. how violent thou art.
and then. fuck it.
you'd understand if you had the whole story.
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wait a second. a man that can bake?
this could be impressive. and the thought. is lovely any way.