Treat the below words and phrases like a table of contents. A summary of this diary to date. Kinda. Not really.
OK, so I was going to do a best of or some such shit, but that didn't work out too well. So instead I pulled any entries that stood alone or amused or in some way informed people about shit.
It's 1AM. I'm tired. I can't explain.
This entry talks about the cutting. It is the only entry where I really go into depth, yet I sometimes make veiled comments regarding self-injury.
Ducks! This one explains Howie. And the below list of entries is a play-by-play of the ducklings hatching. Fun times.
Here are the entries where I ramble on about my friend, K, who killed himself on Novermber 20, 2000. They're pretty incoherent as I am not at my best when talking about it, yet words concerning him sometimes fall out.
Charles Bukowski is a goddamn genius. Read for yourself.
Fuck words. Let's see some pictures.
This is my puppy. Her name is Francesca. Say hello to Francesca.
Shows I attended even though shows usually leave me feeling a growing fear for the future of humanity.
Yeah. Sometimes I talk about boys. They kinda slip into my head every so often. Sneaky little fuckers.
Spinster or bust!
Lists. Lists are fun. Lists give you strong bones and an immunity to radioactive monkeys. Love the lists.
Forever 23, my ass - 01.25.06
P-Nutz - 01.20.06
My nose hurts - 01.16.06
And really bad eggs - 01.13.06
I ain't no Alex Trebek - 01.11.06