>Team Sleep - The Passportal

I’m home, today kind of sucked, but I got authorization for my project, all the necessary signatures and whatnot. All I have to do is write that infernal essay and transform that blank posterboard into my site’s map. I’m working on this parody site for the media conglomerates, called “www.AOLTimeWarnerViacomFoxNBCDisney.com“. It should be great. Today I wore the long black hair wig, it was cool. Anyway, a strange incident took place in the men’s bathroom. I loathe the school’s bathroom, because it’s not anonymous like a public restroom. This one dude was in there, and I didn’t think much of it, so I did my buisiness, then headed over to the sink to wash my hands. As I did this, not a sound from the occupied stall. No clanking of the toilet paper roll, no fastening of buttons, no zipping of zippers. As far as I could gather, he was just standing there the whole time, deeply involved in…something. I have two e-mails in my inbox, but I’m too tired to read/answer them today. I must sleep and prepare for the onslaught that will be tomorrow. Senior project, last Civics talk with Mike, it should be positively apocalyptic. When I graduate, I get to get my ears pierced (I can’t wait!) so I can wear my cool screw earrings. Well, I must be off to bed. Must kill Christine tomorrow for leaving me stranded with the hicks. We’re going to Eureka this weekend (yay!) so I might have some cool stuff when I get back. Well, only time will tell. Peace out.

>Suicide Commando - Body Count Proceed (if I had headphones)

I’ve been trying to sleep in Mike’s room and fucking rude little children in adolescent bodies were throwing shit at me. How fucking childish. I swear, some people are so immature they should be taken out and shot. So far, my friends aren’t showing up. I’m fucking tired and I want to go home. FUCK EVERYTHING ESPECIALLY MY SENIOR PROJECT BECAUSE I DON’T FUCKING CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ANY MORE, except taking a good nap. Huh, there was a huge grinding crash emanating from the room I was just in. Hmm, hopefully some of them died. Unfortunately it was probably just Greg being a lunatic as usual. How weird, I was surfing Amnesty International to find some indescribable form of human desecration, and this like, person named Sara or something came up, she asked me if I was related to my mom in the nursery. It was a strange conversation, she was all–”bye” in the middle of it and walked off. Hmm.

> NO MUSIC THANKS TO MY OWN STUPIDITY

I’m pissed because I forgot to bring my headphones. The one freaking day I show up early, and Christine and Trisha aren’t here. I’m going to have to kill them when they show up. Or at least mildly accost them. My mom was going through her holiday stuff this morning, and stumbled across an old Halloween wig she’d worn one year. I tried it on, and decided to wear it to school. I look like an Indian, my mom called me Chief James. How lame. I didn’t sleep last night, I was really tired right before my last entry, but then I got all energized, I don’t know why. I haven’t slept since my ersatz-nap at one. I basically laid there for maybe an hour, completely and utterly exhausted, until I got too bored, and had to go do something. I hate tiredness without sleepiness. Hmm, a door-slam. Perhaps it’s Christine. Nope, can’t hear her voice yet. Wait…I hear something…nope, it’s just Heather. She says she likes my wig. I’m hungry and irritable, they better show up soon. I’m so bored I’m looking at the anagrams for my friends’ names. An anagrams of Trisha are “hi rats” and “hi star”, of Christine are “ethnic sir” “nicer shit” and “nice shirt”. Huh, bedroom is an anagram of boredom. The door slams again–and again–someone derives some sick sexual pleasure from that sound, it slams about every 30 seconds. An anagram of Christine’s full name is “chaired goldstein”. An anagram of Trisha’s full name is “hassle contributor”. Okay, they’re not here, I’m taking a nap. Now.