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My New Livejournal and what Roy sz
"I'll give it a week, and that's if you're really interested!"
He's got a point. Yeah, I'm inconsistant...whatever. I've got the attention span of a small rodent...ooh, shiny thing, shiny thing, gotta touch it! Where was I?
Like Whitman sd (poet, not sampler), "Do I contradict myself? It's alright, I'm cool like that."
I mean who is gonna read this shite anyways? So, it's just for me, and I'll get bored of it soon enough. Mostly because I'll run out of things to say, or I'll simply forget about it. I forget about a lot of things.
Who is gonna read it? "Yo Momma" sz Roy, who is burping from the bathroom. Yeah, yeah. Itza stupid thing...most people's live journals read like sad, self-indulgant diaries. That's freaking lame. So, hopefully I'll avoid any verbal onanism, and supplement the lack with some verbal diarreah. (As I was getting lunch today a few cafeteria workers were discussing how to spell diarreah, I don't think I've spelled it right either, but at least I'm not serving lunch to folk while discussing it! Keep yer poop problems out of my turkey sandwich, bitches...such discussions really don't up my trust in the food prep.) Eh, buttever. Expect various and plentiful rantings, o thou nonexistant folk who run upon this. I mean it ain't like I'm advertising it..."Come see the monkey gurl! Fiddy cent for a peek at her hairy busoms!" Grrrr-arg.
There's yer disclaimer. I may keep this going for two weeks, just to spite him.
He's got a point. Yeah, I'm inconsistant...whatever. I've got the attention span of a small rodent...ooh, shiny thing, shiny thing, gotta touch it! Where was I?
Like Whitman sd (poet, not sampler), "Do I contradict myself? It's alright, I'm cool like that."
I mean who is gonna read this shite anyways? So, it's just for me, and I'll get bored of it soon enough. Mostly because I'll run out of things to say, or I'll simply forget about it. I forget about a lot of things.
Who is gonna read it? "Yo Momma" sz Roy, who is burping from the bathroom. Yeah, yeah. Itza stupid thing...most people's live journals read like sad, self-indulgant diaries. That's freaking lame. So, hopefully I'll avoid any verbal onanism, and supplement the lack with some verbal diarreah. (As I was getting lunch today a few cafeteria workers were discussing how to spell diarreah, I don't think I've spelled it right either, but at least I'm not serving lunch to folk while discussing it! Keep yer poop problems out of my turkey sandwich, bitches...such discussions really don't up my trust in the food prep.) Eh, buttever. Expect various and plentiful rantings, o thou nonexistant folk who run upon this. I mean it ain't like I'm advertising it..."Come see the monkey gurl! Fiddy cent for a peek at her hairy busoms!" Grrrr-arg.
There's yer disclaimer. I may keep this going for two weeks, just to spite him.