I couldn't watch this all the way through, it hurt too much.

[link]

I'm going to see what I can do to help on the PETA site now.

medication will hit like a ton of brick tonight.

She went to sleep, all the shes I suspect including the pickle lover. Then he passed out in a ditch somewhere in a horrible car accident. The only he currently watching this she's page. I'm kidding about that accident. I better be or I'm going to feel terrible later.

I'm thinking about a conversation I had about professions. What if I was a bartender, hm? I could still presue my writing then, but I'd have so much more. More material, more secrets.

I was speaking with a beautiful friend of mine about it and it's what she'll be one day, a bartender-writer. It'll happen, or a bartender-drawer... but I fancy stealing the idea.

I don't know what kind of schooling I go to for that, if someone knows- they should tell me. It'd be ever so helpful.

Perhaps I could just be a bartender with furniture made out of my journals. I'd serve absinthe, there would be an oxygen bar and helium in the back.

Someone, I don't know who, someone probably in a pastel orange shirt with bobbed hair-- not that I'm naming names, has deleted Paint off my computer.

Paint.

You know, that essential easy utility on basically all computers?

This is right under the time when I deleted the soundcard.

I'm becoming more and more incapable of basic primitive computer acts, I can't even rip off an icon. What is that? hm?