Let me make something really clear: I have a very short fuse right now. To put my pain level into context, it's worse than being tattooed — every moment of every day, I am in constant pain that can be dulled by narcotics, but not stopped. Not that it's a lot of pain, but it gets to you after a while when it just never stops. If I didn't have a ton of people who rely on me, I'd probably eat a bullet, or at least my leg would eat a magazine full of them. And I'm fine with all that, but it means that I'm really not cool with people fucking with me, with Rachel, with BME events or staff, with my girlfriend, with my friends, and so on. So please don't do that because I'm a crazy and unpredictable person with a relatively large capability to do damage and very little sense of self preservation. I'm like an injured animal with really sharp teeth, ok?
In more pleasant news, it rained so much that I couldn't undertake my new street art project, but I do love the rain so I went for a walk down the beach with Saira and took some photos of a building that I might go paint on. And I had some really nice apricot-wheat beer. And I had a nice long chat with a friend I don't talk to enough (ironically, due to the drama that I so despise). I think Phil gave the best advice though when he told me his woes and how he felt about it all…
“I really need a beer and a blowjob!”
I split some beer with him but our other woes are unsolved.
Again: Arrrrrrgh!
Oh, and to those of you who feel like you might be on the target end of the “argh!” the good news is that I don't hold a grudge for anything really, but please, don't push me right now because it's about the worst time to test my ability to turn the other cheek. No worries though, I have at least a couple cheeks left.
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