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Sep. 7th, 2002 09:00 amI am so fucking sore. I worked 6PM-12AM last night. And closed. My legs hurt. My whole fucking body hurts. *Choo-Choo melt* Blaaaa..
I was reading over my friends list. And the Something Positive community is pitching a fit about spoilers being posted there before anyone reads the actual comic. And that no one lj-cuts to hide them. :P Gwar.
I'm also on the edge of a rant about 9-11. I'm sorry, people, but this country is highly fucked. Our government is corrupt and our people are fuckheads. Sure, for the few that do good and try to make things right and better, there's 2x as many fucking up their progress. And don't get me started on Bush. How can anyone think he's doind a good job as president? He's a puppet. He should have even won the fucking election. Fucking electoral college shit. I'd like to throttle whoever thought that was a good idea (you all see how much attention I paid in american history, huh? Hell, I was always reading through the WWII chapter...). Gah. Now my head is a jumble of thoughts and I don't know what to type. :P Feh.
I don't hate America. I hate the people in it.
Anyways, before I start on something else. I do to scan stuff and eat. Food good. Maybe bath, too. Mmmmm....bath.
Oh! No, wait! TJ was telling me last night about how the hag's being all nicey-nicey. Saying she's pay TJ back that $50 when she gets paid. And she's thinking about putting a TV in layaway for us (yes, she acknowledged my existence...). And she got a house key made for me. Of course, she also commented on my new knives. Yes. Like how sharp they are. Yes. Grand. I love my new knives. Perfect for slicing fruit or someones throat! In 6 sizes! Plus a sharpener! Woohoo!
I was also in a very melancholy mood yesterday. Things straightened out with me and TJ and work cheered me up a bit. Or distracted my thoughts. One of the other. Whichever it was worked. But my fucking mom gave me her book that she keeps all her poetry in, and I was reading it in the car while witing for TJ to get off... I wish she's take her own fucking advice. It's so obvious she know what's wrong with her. And she's -tried- to help herself. But she doesn't have to willpower to do so. And her poetry reflects that. And it's sad. Cause I've tried to help. I've told her to leave Bud, she's better on her own. Her a good job, go back to school, do something to keep yourself away from the crack and the smack and shit. But she doesn't. And then that depresses me, cause I tried and it doesn't fucking work. And I know I should give it up, and part of me has, but that other part keeps on going. Like yesterday, I told her I was talking to George about her and Bud. And he told me to tell her come down and work at the Mocha House, he'll talk to his cousin and see about getting her a house on Porter St. (where my grandma lives, right behind where I work), and she can leave Bud. Then she goes off on how she likes to get alot of tips and blahblahblah. It's be good for her to live near grandma. And to live alone. Hell, I'd even consider spending some time with her if she'd leave that fuck of a "man" (I give the quotations for a reason...). But no. She stays with him and the drugs, further declinging the chance of ever getting her kids back. And she's aware of this. And it pisses me off to no end. It also makes me very sad. -_-
I was reading over my friends list. And the Something Positive community is pitching a fit about spoilers being posted there before anyone reads the actual comic. And that no one lj-cuts to hide them. :P Gwar.
I'm also on the edge of a rant about 9-11. I'm sorry, people, but this country is highly fucked. Our government is corrupt and our people are fuckheads. Sure, for the few that do good and try to make things right and better, there's 2x as many fucking up their progress. And don't get me started on Bush. How can anyone think he's doind a good job as president? He's a puppet. He should have even won the fucking election. Fucking electoral college shit. I'd like to throttle whoever thought that was a good idea (you all see how much attention I paid in american history, huh? Hell, I was always reading through the WWII chapter...). Gah. Now my head is a jumble of thoughts and I don't know what to type. :P Feh.
I don't hate America. I hate the people in it.
Anyways, before I start on something else. I do to scan stuff and eat. Food good. Maybe bath, too. Mmmmm....bath.
Oh! No, wait! TJ was telling me last night about how the hag's being all nicey-nicey. Saying she's pay TJ back that $50 when she gets paid. And she's thinking about putting a TV in layaway for us (yes, she acknowledged my existence...). And she got a house key made for me. Of course, she also commented on my new knives. Yes. Like how sharp they are. Yes. Grand. I love my new knives. Perfect for slicing fruit or someones throat! In 6 sizes! Plus a sharpener! Woohoo!
I was also in a very melancholy mood yesterday. Things straightened out with me and TJ and work cheered me up a bit. Or distracted my thoughts. One of the other. Whichever it was worked. But my fucking mom gave me her book that she keeps all her poetry in, and I was reading it in the car while witing for TJ to get off... I wish she's take her own fucking advice. It's so obvious she know what's wrong with her. And she's -tried- to help herself. But she doesn't have to willpower to do so. And her poetry reflects that. And it's sad. Cause I've tried to help. I've told her to leave Bud, she's better on her own. Her a good job, go back to school, do something to keep yourself away from the crack and the smack and shit. But she doesn't. And then that depresses me, cause I tried and it doesn't fucking work. And I know I should give it up, and part of me has, but that other part keeps on going. Like yesterday, I told her I was talking to George about her and Bud. And he told me to tell her come down and work at the Mocha House, he'll talk to his cousin and see about getting her a house on Porter St. (where my grandma lives, right behind where I work), and she can leave Bud. Then she goes off on how she likes to get alot of tips and blahblahblah. It's be good for her to live near grandma. And to live alone. Hell, I'd even consider spending some time with her if she'd leave that fuck of a "man" (I give the quotations for a reason...). But no. She stays with him and the drugs, further declinging the chance of ever getting her kids back. And she's aware of this. And it pisses me off to no end. It also makes me very sad. -_-
