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Right Now

Date:05-07-02

Time: 10:59 p.m.
craving: raspberries

Drinking:whisky sour
Wearing: Jammies
Listening: The Matches - Dog Eared Page
Talking:
Thinking: I want to go on vacation!
Wanting: Warm Socks
PLUGGING: Urban Dictionary


ride my mango smellin hardon

"The taste of love is sweet, when hearts like ours meet."

So I started this entry, and I hit the MOTHER FUCKIN BACKSPACE KEY and it proceded to do it's magical diaryland bullshit and erase my entire entry and go back a page.

Fuck.

I just fucking realized that I missed the Ozbournes. Now, bear in mind, I haven't watched a single episode yet. But I keep hearing that it is funny as fuck and I need to watch it. Season finale was tonight - and I missed it. But if I know MTV well enough, they will play every episode over and over just for the ratings...probally an "Ozbourne Weekend Marathon" like they do for Road Rules/Real World.

Eff. I should be in bed. I have to be at work before 9 tommorow. I usally roll on in arround 9:30ish. See, right now, I am one of two assistant bookkeeppers, the head bookkeeper chick is leaving cause of heart problems n stuff. (hehe - I said "head" and "chick" in the same sentance...lack of sex must be getting to me...)

SO she is teaching me how to set some employee crap up for payroll in the system. It takes forever cause the woman isn't computer literate. I'll cut and paste something by right clicking and she gets all "OH OH OH!!! HOWD YOU DO THAT???????" And I want to beat her with the monitor...

The contact lens gods have chosen to sacrafice my eyes! I've been wearing em for about 36 hours. Now, I used to wear em for a month straight before poppin in new ones. But I went to see the Doctor for a new prescr. and he said "DONT FUCK UP YOUR EYES - TAKE OUT YOUR CONTACTS AT NIGHT!" So, I started to do that. And now, If I sleep in them, they fucking hurt.

*MORAL OF THE STORY* - DON'T listen to a fucking word your doctor tells you.

I have a brown paperbag that has about 3 mangos in it. It is supposed to make em ripe faster. I fucking love mangos. My mango bag is at home. On the counter to the left of the George Foreman Grill.

Fucking mangos.

So has anyone else noticed how uh "grown up" these two have become?

Speaking of becomming, well actually that has absolutely NOTHING to do with what I'm about to show you. Right.

You have received a message!

you just used my hardon, and ride, in the same sentace.

<--Was * Is-->

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