Ok,
Well, I'm home and staying at my parents' house for a bit. It, of
course, blows. They still treat me like an epileptic retard all the
while telling me how great I am. It's a wonderful contradiction that
makes me feel crazy and allows them to feel like good parents. I hate
them.
I found a really funny
comic the other day, and I printed it off
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Which is to say, I hear that, and it sucks. And also with the talking to yourself in the shower, because that's always where you cook up the best comebacks.
Also, I find it incredibly annoying when people tell me they're praying for me, but I'm not sure it's kosher to tell them to fucking quit it. Because in Waco, people here pray for you if they see you sitting at a goddamn stoplight, like, gold star for you, Mr. Faithful, but no thanks. Is there a more tactful approach than, "If your version of God is as jacked-up and purblind as you are, then I don't want his fucking help"? Pls to advise, Miss Post.
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I can't wait to see you!
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