I am great. I'm wonderful, and awesome, and everyone that has ever been within three feet of me should thank God that they had a chance to be around me. I mean, really, I'm great
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I am joey. I'm joeyful, and joeysome, and everyone that has ever been within three feet of me should thank God that they had a chance to be around me. I mean, really, I'm joey.
Sometimes i wish i wasn't so joey. I'm just so joey, that my joeyness gets spread around to not joey people, and that's not joey for joey ol' me. But i can't help being joey. And joeyful. And joeytastic. And joey.
These kinds of livejournal entries annoy the smurf out of me. Please refrain from posting these in the future.
My world champion bichon friese, Mr. Pickles, and I both agree that if you don't have an intimate sense of misery and melancholy sadness to your live journal then you shouldn't call it a live journal. You should call it a lie journal. Because that's what it is, a journal of lies, if all you do is talk about how joey everything is in your life.
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Sometimes i wish i wasn't so joey. I'm just so joey, that my joeyness gets spread around to not joey people, and that's not joey for joey ol' me. But i can't help being joey. And joeyful. And joeytastic. And joey.
These kinds of livejournal entries annoy the smurf out of me. Please refrain from posting these in the future.
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But don't get any ideas.
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That is all
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I need a response. (Jr. High 4, July 14-20, or Family Camp June 30-July 3)
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