so class got cancelled today and while kerrin and i were walking back to the dorm i detected the scent of a barbaque on the breeze and realized my life's ambition: to throw parties. how much would it rock to just plan parties for other people and get paid? it would rock a lot.
ive got this gangster looking scar on my elbow from last weekend, and it is all weird feeling like snakeskin or some crazy shit. last night was one of the top three worst nights of my existence. why does everyone i care aobut suck so much at life.
i never update, but since i ought to be writing a paper of course i am urged to do anything but the paper itself. tomorrow i am going home for a hot minute, because njtransit is free for students all week
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