School's hitting pretty hard lately. Got a test tomorrow and I've had to read 4 stories for my fiction writing class. So far, with the exception of one story with a neat twist, the writing is sub-par and uninspired. I hope somebody else isn't writing this same thing on a blog of their own. But they shouldn't be, heh.

Went bowling with Sherry tonight, and she beat me in 4 games straight. Uh, out of 4.


But it was fun. Yeah. I'll just be over here in the corner, plotting....mwaha.

Whoo. I'm pissed at the world, surprise surprise. I don't want any of you, and you don't want any of me.

Great. Just fucking great.

Class sucked today, Sherry fucking thinks I suck, who the fuck am I to argue with logic like that? Any fucking good reasons I shouldn't go wrap myself around a telephone pole? Don't have a gun that would do the trick, so I'm screwed there. I've got 3 cars, curvy roads, and all sorts of fucking medicine in my cabinet. That's all I need.


"Your best bet is to stay away, motherfucker--it's just one of those days."--Limp Bizkit, "Break Stuff"

Well, Sherry and I went out for the first time in at least a week today, because I've been recovering from a dastardly cold(which is still hanging on, by the way). While I was in town for a doctor's appointment, we ran over to Red Lobster to grab a bite to eat.

Of course, service was slow, and she ended up taking almost a 2 hour lunch break, but it was enjoyable.

Those damned biscuit things they have are dangerously close to ambrosia. You take those for a meal, then eat the angel biscuits they've got at Bolton's Landing, and you've got a meal of bread.

Jesus couldn't make a better meal than that, especially if it was unleavened. Man, somebody needs to introduce the Lord and Savior to things like yeast, cheese, and salt. Also I'd like to know who his personal trainer was, because in all European depictions of him, Jesus is cut like fucking Mister Universe.

Sickness! Woe! Despair!

Large chunks of phlegm!

All this could be yours if the price is right.