the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.
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5:29 p.m. + 2003-07-15 = tourettes.
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oh my dear god. he's tan. oh fucking hell. he shaves his chest. oh christ almighty. i reckon he hasn't opened a book (that hasn't turned into a film) since he graduated highschool. blasted. he hasn't attended, nor intends to attend college, university and/or trade school. good godjesusshit. if only looks were enough. and damnit d'god! he's hung. motherfucker.
such a temporary thing. vocabulary test time: fleeting. transient. ad hoc. evanescent. provisional. interim. ephemeral. short-lived. meteoric. circumbendibus. shunpike. tentative. probationary. provisional. temporary.
and what to my sleep-soaked eyes should appear... is that a... oh my dear lord god jesus shit fuck piss kathleen... is that a hickey on my neck? faaaaaaaaaaa. bah humbug as well. what am i doing? why this excursion to times of yore, say eighth-grade. a hickey! bastard. that fucker.
this absolutely isn't love. this isn't even lust or desperation. this is tourettes. fuck. better luck tomorrow. (it's more than a catchphrase at this point... it's practically mantra.)
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comments?? --->[thisaway]--->[[looks to me as though there are...]]---> 0 repercussions thus far
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[prologue] *** [epilogue] ***[plottwist!]
[[erstwhile]] ***** [[forthwith]]
