Do I get my lap dance now?
The feeling that something ain't right.
Oh my god, how sick. This diary thing deleted about 2/3s
of my entry from yesterday. It was so reminicingly sweet,
and it's been deleted. Bastards.
Anyway, he refused to be reintroduced to me because high
school cliques are horrid, and after he graduates, I have
plans to call him and we'll hang out and eat pizza, because
social orders won't matter anymore. Then I'm gonna write a
script, make a movie, and Claire Danes and the cute little
kid from Orange County will be in it, and I'll eventually
make a billion dollars from the entire funny/sad experience.
And yesterday was the semi-annual cheap-ass fake nail day,
so please excuse the many type-os. I have an extra half
inch of plastic glued to the ends of my fingers.
current mood: totally revolted and hurt (damn you, my-
current tune: Steeler's Wheel - Stuck in the Middle With You
current advice: don't trust the internet to save your