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Aug. 8th, 2005

Dear Jamster,

After seeing an advertisement some months ago, I text in requesting a ringtone, only to be informed that my phone was not compatible. I thought nothing more of this, accepted my losses, and went about the rest my day. Well, until this morning (bright and early at 5am!) when, to my dismay, I received 6 texts from you, and was charged an excess of £9. What is going on? I wasn't actually aware that by requesting a singular ringtone I was subscribing? If this is the case, I would like to unsubscribe now. My number is ***********.

A most displeased customer.

Hrm, who's betting that I'll wait weeks for a reply (if I get a reply at all) informing me I have to text them to unsubscribe, and that said text will, no doubt, cost me a further £3?

Aug. 6th, 2005

My 14 year old sister spells while as "wiyel", and stab as "stabe". Hrm, good to know that St Joseph's Academy are still maintaining the same high standard of education they were when I was there.

Last night, my brother decided, during a psychotic episode, triggered by the mysterious disappearance of his weed, that he'd snap his phone, and then give himself two lovely black eyes. Then, strangely enough, after he'd done all this and my father was trying to calm him down, Johnny magically finds his weed in the bin. This being the same Johnny who sat on his arse while we'd all been frantically searched for it a few moments prior. HRM! I offered him (my brother) a loan of money to buy a new phone, but we couldn't see any decent, reasonably priced, ones in town today. I felt really bad. Not that it was my fault, but I always somehow manage to feel that it somehow was, or that I never do enough. *le sigh* I'm actually really worried about him. Ideally, on the meds, he should have no episodes, but in the past 2 weeks I've witnessed him have around 5, and I've only actually seen him 6 times in the past 2 weeks. Had to convince him not to stab one of my ex friends a few weeks ago too. =(

I also managed to lose my key somewhere amidst all last night's madness. I was completely rat arsed, and had to crawl home at 3am, dreading chapping my mother up. Fun. So now, as a result, I can't leave the house. Well, I can, but run the risk of being locked out upon my return if I do.

My nose hasn't stopped running all day, and it seems my mind has gone MIA. (<---Whoa, check out ma' rhymes! That could so be a line from a trashy emo song.)

Aug. 5th, 2005

I don't think I'll ever truly be satisfied with anything I have/achieve in life.
Even if at some point or other, I have everything, I still wont be content.
Sad, but true.
It's this realisation that leads me to question all of my life's worth.
I never find answers, and I most probably never will.
Ugh, I've felt like I've had a hair stuck in the back of my throat for the past three days. Lots of gagging goodness.

The trailer for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory reminds me a little too much of The Cat in the Hat for comfort. A deeply disturbing movie indeed, which I had the misfortune of seeing while babysitting my younger sister. This, alongside the fact I like the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory so much, is preventing me from going to see it.

I'm so anal. I've just been told I take things way too seriously, after asking someone on my MSN to stop using "text talk". I hate it so much that, where possible, I even avoid using it in texts. Furthermore, where's the logic in saying "ai" instead of "I"? Ugh. Just... Ugh!

I'm tired. And grouchy. And my period still hasn't felt the need to grace me with its presence.

Aug. 2nd, 2005

Seems my exam results are to come through earlier than I thought. I've never had to deal with failing anything in life, academically speaking, and I don't think I'm going to too well either. And nor is my mother.

I'm now officially off weed. It was making me too fat and lazy.

Claire called last night. I didn't pick up. Some other random number also called. Again, I didn't pick up. My phone scares me. Or maybe I was just having too much fun, locked away in my room, being all anti-social.

Ha ha, my step-father just walked in, in a pissy mood, having been sent home to change into a shirt. Since when did taxi drivers have to wear shirts? Moving on and up in the world, eh?

Aug. 1st, 2005

My period really needs to hurry the fuck up and get here so I can stop being a fat muthafucka!

Claire told me to "get a life" on Saturday, purely because I called her asking what she was up to and if she wanted to hang out. Not really sure how to take that. She was supposed to text me earlier in the day to make arrangements anyway. I'm so fucking tired of having to compose myself around her mood swings. So much so that I'm contemplating being a stroppy cow in return by informing her, next time she calls, that I'm too busy "getting a life" to hang out. Yes, because I'm just that immature.

Hughie's decided that I'm responsible for my name, spelt incorrectly might I add, appearing on the bathroom wall. Yes, because that would be my mentality. My life's so sad and empty that I feel the need to write my name on my own bathroom wall, spelt incorrectly, of course, to avert suspicion. Pfft. I don't think I've ever actually written a "menchy" on anything (well besides jotters and folders, etc, at school), let alone my own fucking bathroom wall! Ugh.

I'm so fucking tired and all I want to do, at the moment, is sleep. It's insane. I do nothing, except a few chores around the house, yet I'm always shattered.

Watching TV makes me want to kill myself. No, really. I turned it on and attempted to watch, for a brief 20 minutes tonight. There was a dumbass documentary, entitled "The Real Story", on, about people who'd been given loans they couldn't afford to pay back. WTF! It's their own fucking fault for being greedy irresponsible shits! One stupid cow even went so far as to say it was the bank's responsibility for not looking into the lies she'd told them about her income. Be serious. Why is it we can't just accept responsibility for our own actions? We're always trying to fob the blame on to another. It's pathetic.

I saw my gran for the first time since Xmas today. Hadn't left the house in a few days, or really felt like company, but figured half an hour wouldn't kill me. Apparently I've changed. Wonder if she meant in a good or a bad way. Meh. Put up with the small talk, smiled, wished her a happy birthday, and left. Wasn't as awkward as usual. Probably due to her new dog, which I swear has ADHD, being a great distraction.

Updating this seems so pointless. I'm off to eat some more snails (aka welks), because I'm a lard arse.

everything looks perfect from faraway

How I can go from getting little more than 2 hours of sleep and being wide awake all the time, to being absolutely shattered all the time, and unable to function unless I get at least 11 hours of sleep, is beyond me!

Other random facts: I'm apparently delusional, but hush, I do have a beer belly, and my blood tastes like... water, refuses to clot, and doesn't even have a scent anymore. Not that I taste, and test the scent and texture of my blood on a regular basis... I just happened to notice these things after I cut myself shaving.

I've had a CV to type up and a reference to write for over 2 weeks now, and just... haven't got around to doing either. Because I'm a lazy shit.

Too many people are relying on me not losing my bearings.
I was just in the midst of finishing a massive, fuck off, beast of an entry, when my computer along side my carelessness, decided to delete it. As a result, I'm now so annoyed I can't even be arsed typing out the gist of it.

oralsexworkshop finally removed me from his friends list after I enquired about him looking as if he has bitch tits in a pic posted in his recent entries. *sniggers*

I haven't been updating, or replying to comments, as frequently as I feel I should. My bad. Though, I do read every entry on my friends page, when and where possible. If this (lack of updates and/or comments) at all bothers you, please, do remove me. Drama free.


I've decided to follow my one true calling in life; I'm running off in pursuit of my dream of joining the French Foreign Legion. Purely for the new identity. Only problem being, I own tits and a vagina, rather than the preferred hairy nipples and a cock, though I'm sure this could easily be resolved with a few grand and a willing surgeon, and I'd most probably come out more socially accepted than I currently am now.

Notice there was no mentioning of "baws" in there? That would be because my 11 year old sister probably has more balls than a number of individuals featured in that show, of whom were not "prepared to recount their experiences".

I was supposed to be babysitting for Pam tonight, she text me yesterday asking me to text back if I could, so I canceled my plans for this evening, seeing as I could really do with the money, text back, and waited for her to reply to make further arrangements. No such text came. I wasn't actually that bothered by this though, seeing as I haven't actually been feeling that sociable, and my body, it seems, has yet to recover from being so wiped out last weekend. So I enjoyed experienced some much needed time by my lonesome tonight.

In all honesty, I'm not actually that bothered by much anymore. Very little evokes emotion in me at the moment.

I'm a cunt. Who doesn't talk much anymore, and needs to brighten up. Yey?


rob a bank
Miss Anomie - [Drunk on apathy]
guardian of an infinite abyss

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