so i read in seventeen magazine, back when i was around fifteen, that when you feel depressed due to your life sucking, write out the problems you are having, and then write down reasons why they can also be good. so for everyone, right now, this is me writing myself happy:

i just starting taking these pills that are currently making me loopy, insane, itchy, anxious, and depressed… but they have also greatly increased the size of my boobs!!

okay that really has to stop there, i just start complaining and never stop. i need starbucks. too bad i have no money to get me any. i hate my life. sorry shouldn’t complain, mainly because well there are starving people in africa who never even heard of starbucks… <—that, my friend, is my superego talking, and right now it’s fighting with my id that wants to go steal somebody’s starbucks, to satisfy my need. my ego, the only rational part of my being, is telling both to calm down and stop fighting, and now i am anxiety ridden. thank you freud.

freud honey, sometimes a cigar, is just a cigar.

so my parents told me that smart people with good genes and money need to start creating more kids, so that we don’t end up ruled by retarded people. discuss. use information like black panthers, illegal aliens, trailer trash, mormons, and anyone from alabama or kentucky in your conversation and it will prove some point.

ooooh.

not having money makes you skinny, because you cant buy food. but apparently so does having too much money (the olsen twins, miss lohan, etc). i wish i was getting skinny cause i had too much money. that would be an issue worth having.

i think i want a skunk mink. a live, skunk mink.

i got to hold a lobster yesterday and give it a sharpie to squeeze. that was fun, until i saw it brutally murdered right in front of my eyes- i watched someone kill it, by cutting it lengthwise, right down the middle. good thing i didn’t have sex with the guy. it would have been harder to let go.