Rum & Monkey's fuckin awesome LJ entry generator
Today was really tiring.
I feel sad, because Sarah and Britney are complete bitches. They told everyone I have an STD, just because I slept with both of their boyfriends on Saturday night.
I'm so hardcore. Me and Buzz went to the mall today, and I stole a whole heap of stuff. I got a Good Charlotte CD, a couple of DVDs and some new boots. Buzz got caught, but he fought his way out, and then we stole some lady's car and smashed it into a phone booth.
Last night I had to shave my entire body. Apparently, the lice that I caught from Amanda's friend are really hard to get rid of. I look quite strange with no hair and eyebrows. I'd post pictures, but my webcam is broken.
I want to tell the world that I'm gay.
I am making this journal friends only because I don't want the world to read what I'm writing, even though I'm posting it on the internet.
Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! Here's ten thousand photographs of my cat.
I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have bipolar disorder, which makes me different enough to be interesting, but the same as all the other cool people with bipolar disorder.
You should all do this quiz! It's amazingly accurate. You just put in your name and birthday, and it will tell you you're a moron.
That's enough for now. But I'll leave you with this poem I wrote. It's about my friend Robert, who has bipolar disorder. Just like me. And Heidi.
I was once diagnosed bipolar, several years ago. I was also diagnosed with diassociative identity disorder (multiple personalities). That would make sense, though, wouldn't it? I have one manic personality and one depressive personality. Because I've actually had non-drug induced mania. (Noticed confused look.)
I also think the "friends only" thing is bullshit. I mean, come on--if you wanted to speak to a few friends about your life, send an email
or a letter. (On another note, I am so grateful that I only got one of those Holiday letters. You know the ones. "Dear Family & Friends: This year has been so eventful..." You know it's written by the mother of the house, but she still refers to herself in third person and reintroduces you to her entire family by their key characteristics. Yeah, Jenny, I remember that you're a young, beautiful teacher; I remember that your husband, Brandon, is also young and beautiful and is my cousin; I remember that you had a baby a couple years ago, and no matter how cute little Jason is, I don't care to hear stories about his teething adventures
.) "Friends only" also takes away my ability to spy on you. If I say I haven't read your stupid Xanga or LiveJournal or Blogspot (all with lame templates and uber-cool graphics stolen from somewhere else), I might not have. Or I might just be saying that so you'll be more likely to write something about me. If I knew how to hack people's email accounts, I would do it. If I could record their phone conversations, I would do it and listen to them (that poses another problem, but while we're dreaming). I'm nosey and think I deserve to know everything about everyone's life, just because I'm me. I'm getting off topic. Don't put your blogs, journals, diaries, whatever, on friends only. It makes me cranky.
I once shaved my entire body in an effort to deny lanugo. It was a good tactic until people started wondering why the hell I would shave my entire body. I'm not a swimmer. Obviously I was hiding something. Like hair caused by not eating.