I think inside me, it lives a gigantic chatterbox. Maybe momma was right from way back when she first called me a chatterbox & I always thought I was quiet at home. This isn’t right, I’m blabbering off to anyone available (I do not care) & I bet they can’t wait for me to stop. But no, I can’t stop. What is wrong with me, I wish I can blabber off to someone who doesn’t think I’m blabbering crap. But I am blabbering crap. & I have absolutely no idea whatsoever, why do I have so much to say? I’ve decided, I need, a mammalian companion. Any mammal would do. Ok, I don’t like cats. I hate cats. I want two fat chubby hamsters to roll in my hands. I want a parrot who’d talk back to me. & I don’t feel good letting it out to people, whom I know, would never get that close to me. 

I think, I should take a break from Warhol. 

It’d be funny if I become a Hooters girrrrrrrl. Yikes, panty-like shorts with your butt exposed. Night & Day, please hire me, you’re so good.

These days spent at home are so boring & pissy. 

You wake up to: 

1. Naggy granny

2. Fight for power socket

3. Mess to clean up

4. Biatch used your toothbrush, I can puke right away. 

5. Biatch asks if you’re going out. 

6. Biatch asks what’re you having for lunch.

& you come home to:

1. Naggy granny.

2. Even more mess to clear.

3. Biatch face. 

I am so evil, I belong in hell. 

 

 

& so today, I snagged myself an interview at a French chocolate parlor. But I couldn’t find the bus stop. & I’ve come to conclude, that I’ll never go near Anglo Chinese. Vicious girls, vicious sun. No good, no good at all. 

 

I want to go on a salad diet, ewww. I’m going to try Ansley’s corn diet. She has a thing for small, brightly coloured things. Like, green peas (yuck!) & corn. Diet starts, tomorrow.

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