okay already: i'm here to tell you i'm having yet
another shitty day. i swear, sometimes my shitty
days run into each other giving me a shitty weeks.
i think i'm in the middle of a shitty month...
that's shitty!

my goddamn arm is totally fucked up. i want to cut
it off at the elbow. i don't know what the fucking
problem is! i mean, i'm a hygienic clean girl. i
smell good ya know... clean... squeaky! strawberry
glycerin scented soap everyday, all over me
everywhere, come here... smell me. taste me. good,
hey? okay, you can stop now 'cuz you're making me
feel uncomfortable. i hardly know you.

anyways, the point i'm making is i'm a well-bathed
clean little girl, so then... what the fuck is up
with my arm? it absolutely has devastated me. it
grosses me out. it hurts like a bastard, opposed
to when i was having it done and it hurt like a
bitch.
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in the bible it says you're not supposed to
mutilate or decorate your body, 'cuz god will get
really cheezed at you, but that guy jesus died for
are sins right? so i figure when i get to heaven,
right before i have a drink with bob karsnarik and
andrew wood, i'll get an appointment with god and
explain to him, "i could wear long sleeve shirts
and no one would see them!" i hope he goes for it.
i bet krishna and those dudes would let me hang
out at their pad if god was too bummed at me. or i
could just wait at the gates for my mom, 'cuz
she'll outlive me, and then she could go talk to
him about me, kinda like she did when i got
suspended in grade 10 for smoking in the boys'
washroom and she had to schmooze the principal.

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yet another shitty day. sometimes
i swear my shitty days run into each other, giving
me a shitty weeks. i think i'm in the middle of a
shitty month: that's: shitty!