August began with me waking up at 6 in the mornin', thinking "I'll always have suicide."

Dental emergency room.

Oh, snap! There's about three different things wrong with my teeth bones and they gotta go, louie louie. Three of 'em.

THE CAPTAIN

I'm, like, OK. JUST STOP THE PAIN, O DOKTOR. Then he tells me the cost. Ha ha ha ha. Guess who can't even afford to have one tooth yanked? Me! Me! Me! So I tell myself, "It's OK, man. Two of the teeth they want to rip from your jaw are your wisdom teeth. Can you really afford to lose any more wisdom?"

Crotch turtle.

The answer is no.

I still cried like a goddamn baby, though. The nurses offer to sell their kidneys for me so I can afford the surgery, but I graciously decline. OK, no, that didn't happen. They did feel sorry for me, though. They sent me away with two pieces of paper to trade in for drugs and I almost passed out on the bench while waiting for my mom to pick me up.

Pain, pain, pain. Want to die, want to die, want to die. Focus on bracelets.

Arm, the Left.

Arm, the Right. (Guess which ones I made! Fun!)

A few hours later, I go online to check my checking account to see how long I have to wait before the teeth-yanking is financially possible and what's this? I have negative three hundred dollars? Fucking, what the fuck?

Oh, isn't that so goddamn, eye-gougingly funny! Someone has jacked my credit card number and is using it to buy shitty satellite porn! HA HA HA. And what's this? Including overdraw charges, my account has lost almost five hundred dollars? Oh, man, ain't life something?

Yeah, I broke down and spent a good hour crying. I AM NOT ASHAMED. I cried, OK? And then I called the bank and when the lady asked if I wanted to prosecute, my exact words were "Yeah. HANG HIM."

Things still aren't straightened out and I keep getting charged for overdrawing and I don't wanna talk about it anymore.

I am SO FUCKING PSYCHIC, though.

May and I went on our mini pirate tour today and guess who has watched Pirates of the Caribbean TEN FUCKING TIMES?

Your mom.

And me.

Proper?

Vicodin + Pirates + Cheekbones + Monkeys = I LOVE EVERBODY! Weeee!

If I cut my hair, I will no longer have a ponytail. I enjoy ponytails. Hair is good, hair is good, hair is good. Do not cut the hair. You promised, man. Only bastards break promises and are you a bastard? HAIR IS GOOD.

Hi. I need to get to sleep.

I love you and am tongue kissing you as you read this. Seriously.

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