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Monday, May 13th, 2002
10:52a - The Spiders That Live And Die In Her Room
Birthday tomorrow.

Can we say freaking out?

Oh well. I get to go shopping with my mummy and hopefully my check will get here so I can buy a cool translucent blue fake penis. It will be my first of many, and it will be named John. I will set it up in the window of my bookshelf for all to behold, until I have collected so many that they need their own glass case. It will be magnificent. I don't want them to have power, either. I just want them to be steadfast and pretty, and able to stand up by themselves. Can you get them so they do that, or do you need stands for them?

(Thanks Fluffy. As an eighth grader, you guys had me fiending for my own collection.)

Um, I'm going to skool today, because the Disneyland trip is Thursday and I need to find out the specifics. I also need to talk to Jessica and see what's going on with our tattoos. I think I'm gonna hold off on getting mine until I find the perfect Tinkerbell I want, and until I build some muscle in the region I'm getting the tattoo.

There are some damn chimes in the kitchen that my dad hung on the fan, so they have been ringing all morning and I am about to throw them down the stairs. Actually I couldn't. They're too pretty. But maybe I'll wrap them in something so they don't chime, they just clink up against each other. Yes, oh yes.

I sent a letter to a girl who is selling Rasputina pins, and I put hearts and kiss-marks all over the outside of the envelope because I didn't know how else to decorate it besides glitter. I hope she's not creeped out.

And I need to get some tickets quick like a bunny for WonderWorld. Yee yee. It's in Great America and it's closed specifically for the ravers (oops, pardon me, the 'music-festival goers') & you get access to all the rides with the ticket price. Now to find directions to Great America. I haven't been there since I was like 7.

Rheum-cleaning, birthday-planning, information-finding, laundry-doing, food-eating, like nobody's business.

Have a wonderful day, my little jellybeans.

*Kisses*

5000


current mood: determined

(15 comments |BUH)

8:17p - Baking The Ball Of Rage
I really, truly loathe that little deviant bastard that they try to tell me is my brother.

He was adopted from a different family, and we have no blood relation, which makes me exceedingly happy. He just told our mother, the woman who has loved and cared for him unconditionally since he was a week old, that she was a fucking whore. He hits her, and he makes her cry at least once a week. What triggered this outburst, you ask? She wouldn't do his homework for him.

Last year, I didn't get to go out to dinner for my birthday because my mom was writing his book report for him. He is fucked. She wants him out of the house, and I hope they send him to military skool.

He doesn't start shit with me or my dad because he knows we'll beat him within an inch of his life (a luxury which I will be hesitant to indulge after tomorrow, I can't be charged as a minor if something really awful happens). So what does he do? He takes it out on her.

He also downloads lesbian porn from Morpheus whenever he's online, and has fucked up our hard drive with the viruses that come with his perversion.

Anything that he deems 'not new' or 'not worth anything' he desecrates. He draws on things, destroys them, and even worse, he hurts the animals. He hits and kicks the cats and dog. He'll bark at the dog, egg her on for a while, and then hit her if she starts barking, he holds our 8 year old cat Maggie in his room against her will and then hits her when she scratches him trying to get away, he tortures my cat Eli.

He is a bastard, truly. His mother was a sixteen year old girl who didn't even know who his father was, and I was instructed, ever since I found out this particular information, not to tell him. I am so tempted. I used to tell him he was an accident that we found in a dumpster and my mom felt sorry for him. Too bad it's not true.

He has ADHD, and uses it to his full advantage. Any time his lazy ass doesn't want to do something, he plays like he's too stupid to know what's going on, and gets away with it. The cunning little fuck.

And he's spoiled. Oh SO spoiled. He gets everything he wants, and doesn't care that it will break my mom and dad. My mom pays for everything for him, but he still insists she pay him for money she 'borrowed'. (IE, he had money left over that she gave him, and she borrowed it to give me a couple bucks for gas or something cos we had no time for the bank.)

He is a fucker, and ever since he came into my life I wondered why he wasn't just aborted. At least now I know that they think I am the better, milder kid, and that they want me to stay here.

When I was four, I could sense evil in that little fuck, and I was right.

Did you copy? I WAS RIGHT.

I am so angry at him I could claw his eyes out. He just ruined our Wizard Of Oz mousepad, that we've had forever, and cannot get again, and is one of the only pieces of paraphernalia that existed in our old house, my lovely peaceful place. He ruins everything. He drew a big 'L' on Dorothy's forehead, and the tin man's, and the lion's, and the scarecrow's. He scribbled out most of the lion's face and drew all over Dorothy's arms, and ripped the soft top part half-way off of the bottom foam part. Fucker.

He pretends to be some kind of gangster, for serious, and is so insecure that he takes it out on everybody else.

He must be stopped.

5000


current mood: enraged

(10 comments |BUH)


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