Thoughts arrive like butterflies
Urgh. Another week finished with, finally.
Kris can't get that game to work so it looks like I'll be
watching TV and doing homework, mostly, this weekend.
Tonight there's a sniper thing on satellite which I want to
watch. But my Dad's watching TV, and probably won't shift
if all I want to do is watch a tv programme.
Aren't snipers awesome? I don't mean like those morons in
America, I mean in war zones, with Guerilla fighting.
Walking through a quiet town with the troops then,
pzzz..down goes Johnny. Heh, I guess it's not good for the
perons who's been sniped but, whatever.
Like Blithe near that Farmhouse.
I'm supposed to be going to the cinema on Sunday to see 8 mile, but I
don't know if I can be bothered. I'm sure I'll fall asleep. It's not
really my kind of film.
Christ, I hate this bitch in my Form, Katy. She gets right on my
nerves. She doesn't have to say anything she's just...plain annoying.
And I'm supposed to be creepy. She just...stares at you, you know,
with the "you look up at me and I'll get my boyfriend to fucking kill
you". Yeah, right. Oh, bite me, Katy. This isn't fucking Red Rover. I
wasn't skipping across the field to test the strength of little
Janie's grip. Which, incidentally, is about as tough as the the
football club her boyfriend's in defense. Oooh, I burned Katy! Fully
aware she's going to break like a condom in an orgy.
And we're all so scared of THAT wimp, aren't we. Why doesn't she and
her moronic friends fuck off back to...Algeria or wherever the hell
it is they came from.
Fuck her, and fuck the "Prom".