I am enjoying my comment reel immensely. And other people's too. Comments are, as Gim would say, da shizzle. Whatever that means... I never could understand that "izzle" talk. Nice of me to put something in my journal that I don't understand. But, hey, I do that all the time, right? *hides grin*Ah, what's going on with the Heidster today?
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What's up with the mall goal? why so freaky [aside from normal freaky reasons like being overrun by stupid people and vacant-eyed wanderers]
My husband was mowing the front lawn and found a crackpipe. fo shizzle. we be stabbin.
don't even get me started on the drunk guy and his wife who he described as "mentally challenged" while i was at the park with zach this morning. they kind of freaked me out because he was so drunk at 10 am and he was carrying a clear plastic bag with maddog 2020 or 4040 or something. some kind of badger's ass beer. anyway, once his wife went down the slide they seemed happy and wandered off.
i think i feel your social phobia pain...
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I can go to the mall by myself now, and other stores, so hopefully, this hasn't scarred me for life. Hopefully. I just got over the fact that not all the people at the mall are cuter than me and that I am some kind of ugly weirdo there. That is where the social phobia came from. When I checked it out and really looked, there are some wicked bad ugly people walking around there. Much worse than me. Of course, there are still the teenagers with flat stomachs and Dooney and Burke purses. I try to write that off as them being drug-related. I mean, what teenager has the money to buy a $200 purse unless they are selling drugs? There aren't that many rich people here in good ol' Maine. At least where I live. Except for Stephen King, but he doesn't count... speaking of weirdos ( ... )
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