Mine is rather bleh.
I had a dizzy spell that led up to a seizure last friday and then developed a terrible cold that is still progressively getting worse. Oh how awesome.
School starts next monday. Joy of joys. Apparently during summer break one of the water manes burst, and one of the blocks that hold the support beams for the roof in place crashed into a hallway. I just can't wait to go back there. Constant danger of roof collapses, [[in the area where half the roof isn't actually missing]] finding aborted fetuses in supply closets [In a freaking peanut butter jar]], and a never ending problem with plumbing and heating gives school that element of surprise. Because if you don't fear that it might physically kill you, there's just no point in attending.
I'm really not prepared to go back. In addition to not having pants that are lacking holes [no holes are permitted in clothing no matter how small], or offensive writing, I can't kill this ball of dread in the pit of my stomach. Woo, I get to waste the majority of the next eight months working my ass of for grades I truly don't care about, and being constantly surrounded by people who in all honesty will probably mean nothing after we graduate a develop actual lives. Not to mention the petty bullshit drama, and self important airheads that just can't stop talking about how awesome they are. I do enjoy the rumours about me though. They amuse me to no end. Last years were: I was pregnant. I had sex under the bleachers by the track. I give blowjobs in the boys bathroom. I'm schizophrenic.
One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong.
In other areas of life. Sara and Ray agreed on a custody agreement for the chillunz. Ray is still a complete dickhead, and to quote last night's episode of Weeds. "No seriously, I fucking hate you and I hope you get hit by a truck." I will hire one of you to kill him. Fo'realz.
And I'm officially done with speaking to my father. Yes I sound like a spoiled juvenile bitch, but I can't say ANYTHING without the man freaking out on me. I think all his years of drug use are catching up to him because now he's getting beligerant and abusive without drinking. He's slowly going insane like his father. I'm next, wewt. My brother is too well adjusted and too in denial to go insane, and my sister...well I just don't see it happening. I think she's honestly trying to revert back to her teenage years. She's wearing my band T-Shirts and borrowing my ripped up jeans that have writing all over them. On that note, my jeans which have signature from people I haven't seen in ages were borrowed so she could go see Buckcherry last night. The opening band, Black Stone Cherry, completely covered four of them because they felt obliged to sign my sisters ass. You dickfucks, you can't be decent musicians, you're opening for godforsaken Buckcherry, therefore you're not important to even write on my jeans let alone cover up my friends signatures. Please die a slow death in a fiery bus crash. I hate you more than you can comprehend.
Seriously, my friends are important to me and three of those people I won't be seeing for months. You and your shitty attempt at music mean nothing. I don't care that you thought my sister was OMGHAWTIEANDIGET2TOUCHERASS! you're assholes. In other news if my sister doesn't stop whoring it up she'll have a fourth child in time for my 18th birthday next year. Seriously, if God gives you big tits I guess you're the designated mass procreators of the planet. Because some of what resides in those overtly large tits is brain matter that you would otherwise use to know condoms are good.
Also, if anyone has any website recomendations for the purchasing of hoodies I appreciate it.
Well this has been long enough.