sometimes instead of doing what i should do (selling knives, reading schoolbooks, doing at least some homework, etc.) i go and have playdates every night like the little shithead hedonist i am. so yeah, there's me the failure, but you know, i'll look back on this and laugh, i will, i'm sure. alan: "i'm just a walking fucking ailment." why does everyone say such good things? oh and later on i told him i was so excited about something or another that i had shat my pants and he thought i was serious, and then i remembered that not everybody says those things, just the connelly kids. how up was i yesterday? very up. all day, so up. and now, should i not be down? i am not. i slept last night and came to school and took a test and i am a mite drowsy but it ain't no thang. i hated him, but now that i know what he has for me maybe i can like him some, a little, a trifle. SHEEEEE-IT is how it's said. let's go faster. spin the teacup; you can do it. put your ass into it. bend over a little, just like that, yeah, there's something on your shirt. have a soda outside because my mother is home and i need to paint the bathroom some other colors, just wait outside and then we can go down to the park and maybe our lives can involve a lollipop for awhile, although the shit tastes like shit. damn and a half.
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