I AM off to London Ontario for a post 24-year-old exclusion weekend. There's gonna be Drinkin', There's gonna be shootin', and there' gonna be bones in backpacks creating awful jokes. It's the SCLAIR SPESHUL JOURNEY TO THE SOUTHWEST.

I had a hosted a party at my house lass night. Nobody but me hosting and my bud aAron so we drank and we smukked and peeeeeople showed up and really just haddddda gr8 thyme.


Anyway, I'm hungover, and I, need, to, clean up a bit, so, long,,,,,,,,,,


PS .22 calibre handgun

Jdudjdkdjfhdndixisle curybekdchdheidbcipod touch

I'm constipated, I think. I have not shit in over 36 hours, and I'm starting to become slightly alarmed. My thanksgiving dinner (Thanksgiving weekend in Canadaland) was not particularly meat-centric, and my second one (extended family) was exclusively vegetables. Mostly greens. Hopefully I am relieved soon.



Also, sorry if this grosses anyone out.

So, for whatever reason, my instructor at Stream (the call centre I'm being trained to work at) decided to accept the suggestion that she call me 'King Simon.' She does this with much relish, and her only condition was that I, on occasion, refer to her as "Your Highness".

As you could guess, this has pretty much swollen my ego into the realm of Grandiosity. I'm better than everyone. I'm King Simon.

So anyway, Stream is not nearly as soul crushing as I would have thought....

...And it was my own damn fault. I won't share how here, because it was monumentally careless of me. Nothing big, just my own stupidity.

Anyway, I have a job interview tomorrow for a call centre. A friend of mine suggested it, as I can just do the training for 5 weeks full time and look for an alternative job or stick with it for awhile. It's one of those "we will hire you as long as you aren't a mass murderer" types of places.

The worst part is all the kids, all of Porci's friends. I had no idea he even KNEW this many people, let alone had such a pack of friends, but every day like clockwork there are new ones. They ask me if I know where he is, and I always tell them I don't, that they probably know more than me. Their faces fall and they just trot away. Half of them don't even live in Cool Greens. It's like he had this...child army of goody-goody townie kids.

>Do you think he planned this?
...

Cold-ass shift in the weathermasters in Scoville, here. A hurtful heatwave bled its way across the city for a few weeks before realizing itself and dying to shower us with bitter little freeze-drops. Fuck weather.

The worst is The Dog, though. He's already old and dying and WAY past his prime, so there's little option left. He trawled upstairs and took a piss for a full minute before we could kick him out fast enough to mop up the mess.

Fucking quadriped scum.

I'LL TAKE OVER THE WORLD

Started out with me in Chapters, the book store. I had a shopping bag with a yoyo in it, and that's all. I was sitting by a window for some reason, and then I left to go outside. When I went back in, there were a bunch of goats eating the plastic bag. I wanted that yo yo really fucking bad so I grabbed the bag from them and kicked their faces for leverage. At some point one goat actually tried to eat it, but couldn't.

After leaving Goatburg, I met up with my friend Aaron and some...