Time: 12:02 p.m.
ok so this is officially STAY OFF FISH'S DICK week. you, and everyone else in the world, gets to not get all up in my dick for any reason until at least next fucking monday. this means you, Dude Who Sends Me Ridiculously Busted Email Demands in All-Caps. this also means you, Asshole Insurance Adjuster Who Wants To Squeeze Car-Wreck Victims Of All Possible Cash. and a special "STAY OFF FISH'S DICK WEEK" shout-out to EMOTIONALLY MANIPULATIVE BITCHES!!! all of you win the GRAND PRIZE this week, which consists of royal permission to FUCK OFF AND DIE. yes.
yeah so I'm not that happy. I'm fucking pissed. I'm entering full-on "I'm pissed" mode, which means I play the same three "pissed" albums on the "pissed" playlist at all times. I don't design, I just code, cuz if I try to design when I'm pissed it always just consists of the word "PISSED!" in 200pt. interstate in red on halftoned b+w image of my middle finger. thankfully I rearranged my office so there's a big empty spot in the middle, like my own private dancefloor, so I can do the 'pissed' dance when no one's around. or maybe, when there are in fact people around, cuz fuck 'em. yeah.
I'm not even going to tell you why I'm pissed. I'm going to make you guess. just copy and paste all my other journal entries into ms word and do 'autosummarize'. you'll figure it out. you're a smartypants, yeah.
so yeah, happy "STAY THE FUCK OFF FISH'S DICK WEEK" to you and yours. personally I hope you choke. either rub my feet and feed me lasagna, or go away. thank you.