purged. scab. drills.
2001-08-19 - 1:43 p.m.

and so begins another day of the search for khaki pants for erin. khaki pants are just not to be found. i need them tomorrow. so now i have to go to the mall. [say that last sentence in a really eeyore-y kind of voice]


my gma is sick and i smell like an old man. i can't pay for school and i don't want to be 'purged'. what a terrible word. purged. ew. i'm cold but i'm happy. i want a lemon slushie and i have to go to walmart. i have three bruises and a heart-shaped scab on my leg. scab. ew.


i'm gonna go...drill a hole in some metal now. drills...hmmN...drills.

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