Marc
I don't have the strength to delete all 354 new messages in my old Hotmail address. Matt Fast used my email address to sign in to a site where he'd talk to strippers. I'm not lying. Ever since, my account has been chock full of porno emails. At first, it was kind of cool because no one ever emailed me. I felt kind of cool. You know, "look at me, someone cares" and all that BS. But after about a week, and 45 emails, I started to get a little sick of it. That was six months ago. I only check it about once a month now, just to see if any body has written anything important. No suprises. No one's written a thing. In fact, I think the only person that still emails me at that address is the dildo that ruined it- Matt Fast. Dickhead.
On the MP3 Player: "Give Me A B-Side" by Sean Na Na.
Things will probably slow down here over the course of the next five days or so. I'm debating about whether or not I should bring my laptop on tour. On one hand, it'll be nice to be able to check email and BLARG. On the other, I'm going out with five other people that will manhandle the damn thing. The battery sucks, so it'll be useless for car rides. There's no DVD player in it. And I don't have any cool games on it. I just bought the cheapest one I could find. I should've gone high tech, but I didn't. My parents want to buy it off me for my little sister, and I'm all for it. I'm going to upgrade to something phat. And why shouldn't I? I've been good this year.
Destiny's Child: Saw the new video today. Song=bad. Looks=good. How does the one with the short hair not have a seperate career as a model? She's got to be one of the best looking females I've ever seen. It's good to see that she's getting some singing time. That's right. Byonce's finally given up some of the mic. Good for her. Bad for me. I shouldn't talk about them anymore, but I just can't help it. I'm addicted.
If I can write tomorrow, sweet BLARG, I will. But things will be hectic. Things will be rough and tumble until a week from Saturday. So, until then, I bid you adieu. Bye-ee.
I don't have the strength to delete all 354 new messages in my old Hotmail address. Matt Fast used my email address to sign in to a site where he'd talk to strippers. I'm not lying. Ever since, my account has been chock full of porno emails. At first, it was kind of cool because no one ever emailed me. I felt kind of cool. You know, "look at me, someone cares" and all that BS. But after about a week, and 45 emails, I started to get a little sick of it. That was six months ago. I only check it about once a month now, just to see if any body has written anything important. No suprises. No one's written a thing. In fact, I think the only person that still emails me at that address is the dildo that ruined it- Matt Fast. Dickhead.
On the MP3 Player: "Give Me A B-Side" by Sean Na Na.
Things will probably slow down here over the course of the next five days or so. I'm debating about whether or not I should bring my laptop on tour. On one hand, it'll be nice to be able to check email and BLARG. On the other, I'm going out with five other people that will manhandle the damn thing. The battery sucks, so it'll be useless for car rides. There's no DVD player in it. And I don't have any cool games on it. I just bought the cheapest one I could find. I should've gone high tech, but I didn't. My parents want to buy it off me for my little sister, and I'm all for it. I'm going to upgrade to something phat. And why shouldn't I? I've been good this year.
Destiny's Child: Saw the new video today. Song=bad. Looks=good. How does the one with the short hair not have a seperate career as a model? She's got to be one of the best looking females I've ever seen. It's good to see that she's getting some singing time. That's right. Byonce's finally given up some of the mic. Good for her. Bad for me. I shouldn't talk about them anymore, but I just can't help it. I'm addicted.
If I can write tomorrow, sweet BLARG, I will. But things will be hectic. Things will be rough and tumble until a week from Saturday. So, until then, I bid you adieu. Bye-ee.
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