Throbbing purple meat scepter. Just thought I’d throw that in, it’s a line from The Doom Generation
Correction: I want Taggart to love me. But he’s like, a stranger. I can only love strangers.
Renamed Royce to Isabou, we let her go, went to see my grandpa and his wife Marian, they were okay they didn’t try to convert me. I kind of like them. Depressed about the Taggart incident. I want him to love me. I want someone to love me. Is that so wrong? But god–yea. Got Upright Citizens Brigade on DVD and my mom’s b-day present that she won’t appreciate. I hate her. I’m talking to this guy on the internet who is kinda cool. He’s boring me, I want to ask him how big his penis is so he’ll stop talking to me. He’s being really vague. I think he’s a simulation too. I have this new theory that there are some people are simulations of real people. It’s Beaudrillardian. Must get my clammy hands on that book. I would be Molly’s eternal layout slave if she bought it for me. That sounds a little too sexual for print–oh well–too lazy to delete it. That guy is really stupid, he’s a virgin. I lost my virginity at fifteen, I’m a whore. And I’ve never had a boyfriend. How depressing. We’re watching Event Horizon now.
