i hate men with muscles

and clean cut hair (this includes all you faggots who pay big $$ for the dishevelled look and spend a good while in front of the mirror making it look pretty with your Garnier 'manga head' wax) i prefer my men to look like pre-pubesent street rats wearing impossible to take off jeans and possibly never taken off shirts. boys should smell like boys! are you getting the hint that im missing someone? because i most definitely am! i am watching Australia's funniest home videos (slightly better than the American one, same amount of cheese in the hosts humour) and a man was twitching his pecks and keeping in time with his own singing of the childrens hit 'twinkle twinkle little star', this is what rekindled my hatred of men with muscles.

so its saturday night and im at home. ive been reduced to google image searching 666 and blogging. but fear not my little minions, i have here with me some mc chicken mc nuggets (my favourite kind of nuggets, rumour has it they are made from rabbits) and a strawberry thick shake. im watching my phone as if i've got a phone call to expect (i dont). ive just dribbled sweet n sour sauce.

fuck not being able to listen to the cure right now. i feel like listening, but the lyrics mean too much. i cant handle the negativity robert smith places on love in each and every one of the songs on this album. i guess ill have to skip disc right on to eminem.

im missing yet another evening with my katiejay, purely because im scared to be on the train alone tonight, which i would have had to do twice. work at 7am tomorrow is going to murder me, im very happy i had almost 16hrs sleep last night.

missing people sucks, especially under the current circumstances. missing 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 of the most important people in your life, all at the one time, sucks harder than anything in the world. i'd like you all to be in this room with me right this second, im sorry though, this six pack of mc nuggets is barely sharing material. byo snackers.