January 17, 2004

It's Like You've Known Me My Whole Life!

Does it say when you have to rotate their tires?

It is as though the entirety of Andreiety is all right here, an open book for you to judge. Here is my life, my big messy life all here, what a mess. For there is only one of me, and the contents of my heart are all right here. It is like I have posted my heart on the internet. It is not my blog you are reading. No no no. It is my heart. Kathump kathump. That was my heart beating, pulsing with the life that is my soul. Pulse, little soulful heart, for you are on the internet. Indeed.

Well I don't know what that was a reaction against, let's chalk it up to, er, suppressed rage. Cause Michael Jackson just makes me so darn angry.

So I've been trying for a couple of days now to ask Byron for a favor, but it just ain't happening. May surprise those of you in whose experience I'll say just about fuckin anything, but I hate asking for favors. Canna do it. Not things that actually really are favors, as opposed to tiny little services like bringing an extra something or buying me a slice of pizza.*

So, Byron, favor number one, could you teach me how to ask for favors?

*And if ANYone gripes that I don't appreciate pizza-slice-buying, shame on you. I accidentally wrote shane on you. So Shane on you too. Big n hairy greasy Shane.




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Sheesh.

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