Um ... read yesterday's entry, won't you please? I like it better than this drivel.

If I write an entry tonight it will be depressing.

And then I'll feel guilty.

But I feel like whining to a whole bunch of people right now.

Because I'm lonely. And I want people to come and talk to me and listen to me and hug me and be my friend.

I want someone to sit and listen to music with, someone to make fun of bad commercials with, someone to comfortably communicate in monosyllables and grunts with, someone to sit around making towers out of empty juice boxes with.

Well, you know. Not exactly that, but something like it.

Or something completely different.

Just ... something.

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� Ripe Tomato 2001-2005
Don't steal my shit. I'll send thugs. Oh shut up. I do so have thugs. Quit laughing! Look, just don't steal my stuff, OK?