so why does is seem like i'm the last person ever to find out that pluto isn't a planet anymore? i hear the news and it baffles me. all my life its been 'my very educated mother just served us nine pies' and that's set in my mind. now there's no pies. so i tell people 'whoa did you hear that pluto isn't a planet anymore?' 'yeah dude, i've been ( Read more... )

This is an old entry I made a couple of years ago; however, I just had to bring it back. It's that good. This is a project D-Money and I did one day in one class. Enjoy.

( Celebrity Look-a-Likes of Hahnville )

Reminisce your summer boys and girls.
It's over now. Life must continue its cycle.

Last night, I totally had a dream that took the entire length of the night to have. It was the most descriptive dream I've ever had, and it seemed to have every single person I know in it; including Jimmy Trant. It sucks that I can only remember about half of it though ( Read more... )

So I'm getting pretty tired of people asking me, "So have you made any new friends in Covington?" First of all, I've been going back and forth to Luling pretty much all summer, so when do I have time to make friends? Second of all, I live in the middle of nowhere. How exactly would I go about making these friends ( Read more... )

I may feel differently in a year, a month, or even tomorrow, but I'm ready to be on my own. I'm sick of having to inform someone of every step I take. I'd like a little more privacy and a little more freedom.

On a lighter note, I'd like to know what happened to the following people:
Chevy Chase
Martin Short
Sinbad

So I may be a little late on this one, but oh well. I just found out that As Cities Burn is breaking up due to the fact that TJ is getting married. They're last show will be on August 19 at the New Orleans House of Blues.

Therefore, I will be there screaming my lungs out for one last time.

never really knew that getting back into communication could be so depressing. i miss people. i miss things.

everyone should move so they have to clean out their attic so they can find foreign coins and war socks and antique rocking chairs and creepy crawler ovens and power rangers and regular nintendos and checks for $3.24 written by loved ones.

damn you, mother's day.
damn you.