yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

DOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE.

crazy kids:

Inge and Nick defacing portland dorm property. 'Twas a good time. Mind you, this was in the middle of downtown, so a lot of random people, mostly regulars at the diner below, stared up quite a bit what would be the next few days.

46?

It says I have 45 on my dashboard thing. Strangeness, all around.

Hey it's the only pop artist I respect. . .!
woooooooohoooo.

i'm going to bed.

I think. I've got some plans. Although, there's not much more I can do. What I'll add isn't required, which doesn't help the absence of required things. I'm burnt out. I'm rambling so I can fill this up to 48 and go to sleep.

My chemistry grade is going to suffer this too. I haven't finished the egg drop business. Maybe school will be canceled tomorrow. Wait, it's not a maroon day. I'll have to forget it.

mary go round.

I'd like to see you when the summer sun sets down.

I need more for this portfolio that I don't have. Christ. My ankle fucking hurts, man. Every night of this winter it's hurt.

Do you see what I'm reduced to?! I'm solely bitching. This is a bitchfest, people. It used to be occasional. Now it's just pouring out of my lungs and onto this keyboard. I don't think I can maintain this much longer. I am being stretched too thin. I want to sleep.

okay.

We're lookin' good. I just need one more book/art project and I should be set. I don't know how much energy I have to write that. And am I printing all of this? I'm sure this printer is going to awake the parentals. . .

I really wanted a good night's sleep tonight. Ha!

I feel bad for you, Ms. Sirois. . .a Macbeth summary, eight pages, is a very dry informal paper. . .

I had a memoir type piece, much more interesting, but it's on the server on the laptop and I forgot to print today. Maybe in the morning? Perhaps that'll make up for my lack of class notes which are probably stinking somewhere on my bedroom floor. . .

ohhh.

Why don't I have everything done?

I wrote my Fear and Loathing summary, which took way longer than it should have. Seriously. I'm slow with everything, tonight. And I'm going to be so tired tomorrow. Now I need to write about another book. With step father looking over my shoulder, reminding me of the time.

Work Ethic: You asked for this.
Myself: Suck it through a fucking straw.