the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.



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5:32 p.m. + 2004-01-11 = no more rapping.

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ahh. internet will be connected to our house on wednesday, which coincides with my birthday. mum says, she has gotten sick of waiting for me to call internet company so she had to do it herself... oh the alanis-morissette-irony!... as i was about to dial up internet company's number for i was sick of waiting for mum to do it.

i've just returned from a post-work excursion to patrick's on third for a delicious bloody mary and now intend to proceed home to binge on sunday evening television. tomorrow is deemed car-repair day and tuesday&wednesday shall be spent in bed in birthday-bad-luck defense. and then once the birthday week has cleared itself from my schedule, my beautiful man arrives at lindbergh terminal. and that'll be all she wrote for january. to think that a year ago at this time i was walking down massachusettes avenue en route to work, headphones on, rapping aloud/along to eve and missy eliot and being stopped by a guest of my soup-kitchen employer who said, "NO RAPPING. NO MORE WHITE RAPPERS. LEAVE US BE." --oh, i don't really want to be rapper, at all!-- "NO MATTER CHILD. HAFTA SQUASH THEM DREAMS 4* THEY GROWS."

ahh. memories.

*i imagine she meant "'fore" as in short, colloquial for "before"... but as i was hearing it, it came across as the number sign, "4".

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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]]

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me
&
you
or
us
&
them
else...
immortality!



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