2001-12-10 02:47:31 (UTC)


This morning I jammed a 12-gauge barbell through my normal
sized ear hole and now it's throbbing. OUCH. Oh well, it
was worth it. My mother took one look and said, "That looks
so painful!!" I lied, of course, and told her it didn't
hurt a bit. Bill sat there and tried to play the role of
the "hip old guy", saying things like, "I like it, I think
it's VERY cool. So when are you getting a tattoo?" I don't
want a tattoo. Why do tattoos seem to symbolize all teenage
rebellion against their parents? I know people covered in
tattoos who couldn't give a shit how their parents react,
and I also know inkless people who stick needles in their
arms while their parents sleep easy at night,
thinking, "Thank God my child doesn't feel the need to
rebel." Silly bastards.

I've been working on this new story all's not
going well, but nothing is lately. I'm going on a three-
month writer's block and it fucking SUCKS. Chelsea actually
had the nerve to call me a low-life today. She sits there,
whining at my mother to give her money, throwing tantrums
when the answer is no, NOT working, thinking she's GOD
because she made the honor role in cooking school. I told
her to fuck off because I work my ass off six days a week
for my money, and I'm a full-time college student while
she's still in the high-school safe haven where you think
everything is so difficult until you're out, then you wish
you could go back. One of these days...dammit, she's going
to get a rude awakening. And I will be there...oh yes, I
will, to laugh in her face, kick her whilst she's down,