The Grand Prix was a piece of shit and a week's worth of my salary wasted for two reasons, number one (and number two): Stupid women standing behind me didn't believe it either when I told them to stop bitching about my height because there was nothing spectacular to look at, anyway. People need to quit trying to take pictures of the cars too, it's ( Read more... )

Why is my friends acquaintance-list crowded with the patrons of that shitty cafe? This better get me a discount on the drinks Saturnday night.

PS. DND or you won't be able to eat a fucking sandwich when I'm through.

This journal is being re-used. Bye bye, Brawl! 8(