Tryin hard as hell...

to say "until death separates us"

Deadline-Gemini.

I got off work. I'm tired. the PACKATTACK just got the nod to go to the NFC championship. I don't follow baseball much, but apparently they're going for the Stanly Cup, or something like that.

Today, my mom went nuts. So it goes.

My car might get done. I'm unsure. I hope it will. Totes tits.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of a lot of things.

Apparently I have changed. I have, and am glad. I'll never repeat the same mistakes twice, unless I forget. If I do, please, check me at the door, and press the pause button on my mouth. You know you can.

I went to my old high school on friday. I don't really feel welcomed, or part of that mindset. I don't know why I would. I was barely a teenager, when my age started with one. Not that I'm better than those people, just less real. I'm a robot, unable to live and communicate myself well with others. Or feel. Or sleep.

Love? Maybe.

I'm not a ladies man, I'm a landmine.

I'm a second rate yoni wolf, and at that rate, I'll be counting the critic's acclaim in a few years.

In case anyone reads this, I still have no idea what I want to do with my life.

I also don't like lists. I may do another one though, seem to get my page views up.

I check that.

I'm a whore.

Anyway, I'm going to go to sleep, because I have to open tomorrow. I don't like jobs.