SICK

SICK, dude. so sick. i'm sitting in my room so pissed off that this fucking EMO bullshit has overtaken the radio waves, with the STENCH of rotting feet permeating my nostrils because I have so much to do that I can't even take the time to wash my GNARLY feet after they've been stewing in my ugliest pair of shoes all day long. SO SICK. Seriously, it smells so badly that I'm almost hoping that it'll become so intollerable that I'll puke on myself so I can smell better. But back to the EMO, what the HELL is this?? The official description: The emotional side of punk. WHAT????? Because 4 guys screaming about wanting a full frontal lobotomy isn't emotional enough?? And this is so not punk. There is nothing punk about a man singing a song called "I'm Sorry" on an album called "Take me home". And if you're going to sing "somebodyyyyy killlllll meeeeeee" you cannot belt it out in a 13 year old pre-pubescent falsetto unless you're Morressy, who these fags are NOT. AND STOP WEARING EYELINER, YOU BITCHES! God, this fucking blows.

Why Does East LA Have a Coffee Bean???

Okay, lets get past the fact that I'm sitting here with pink earplugs, in my gym clothes and a ski jacket because I forgot to bring a sweatshirt, and get to the fact that I'm sitting in the East LA Coffee Bean. On my new computer. Stealing internet from somebody named TACOREAL which I can only assume is a fine mexican eateary, whose need for wireless I cannot understand. And I just want to know, who thought East LA needed a coffee bean? Because so far only "Joker" "Lala" and "Chuy" have walked in, a good 2 hours after me, and Lala was the only one to order anything, specifically, a peppermint mocha, after which she was loudly chastized by said hoodlums for being a "pocho", and who then slowly crept to the far side of the store at the sight of the Sherrif who pulled into the parkinglot, probably because he saw my car in the lot and became alarmed at the fact that somebody was actually inside. Like, really? THIS looked like a great market? Really?