shojo

I'm updating a journal on a pornographic website at work! Are you excited by my brazen disregard for authority? Does my depraved disdain for the sanctity of such a chaste and wholesome insitution arouse you? I'm naughty, and you love it -- you impish little harlot -- don't you?

Wh... why are you laughing?

Breaking News: Shojo attempts to be funny in journal update. France surrenders. Haha, that joke never gets old.

Well, okay, Ill admit that my humor is roughly as unfunny and awkward as getting poked in the eye or watching the movie Eurotrip. But talking to you all makes my spirits soar and stirs a powerful fire in my loins (because of the chlamydia you gave...
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To know me is thus: cure leves loquuntur ingentes stupent.

His hands begins tremble, "That woman is a slut."

"But we all love her so very much! She makes me very happy."

"Yes, that's what makes her a slut. Don't try to deny it, don't you fucking dare."

"But...!"

"NO, YOU COCK! Sluts! All of them! Sluts!" A shrill cackle, and then he wants to do something about it.

But what?

My disconcern necessitates review... of the most sycophantic sort.

And sympathy is ever wasted.

I'm not going to put down this knife until you plead guilty.

During my SG sabbatical, I've acquired a curious affinity for senseless murder.

I suspect it's the ramifications of inner-scars inflicted by listening to too much Dashboard Confessional back in the day.

I also wear too much eye-liner and often find myself resisting inexplicible urges to chew on the back of this girls neck.

Resistance.
Consideration.
Inevitible capitulation.

I've rejoined the site for four reasons.

1) Pornography seems pointless and contrived without the inclusion of vacuous and pretensious online journal entries like these.

2) The internet is a cold, empty husk; with an existance that is tiresome and excessively laden with strife and antagonism.

3) I am a cold, empty husk; with an existance that is tiresome and excessively...
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All this time, and the problem has been me.

Bye now.

(Er, no, not a suicide note.)

Will things make me less happy?
WHEN I GET BACK!?

I've just returned from Hawaii. Nothing can make one detest being single or detest almost obscenely large crowds, more than the beaches of Waikiki. String bikinis, broiling flesh, hardened pecs, and the unmistakable scent of greasy sun tan lotion.... it all makes me want to murder endangered animals, really.

We just might work out fine...
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