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Okay...I no longer feel sorry for her any more. LOL. OMG...5'6, 130?! Let me guess; you failed math before you dropped out of high school; you meant 130 + 50/100.

Hey Michelin Man (that's what HE calls you)...GET. OFF. MY JOURNAL! It's CHRISTMAS. OMG.

Get a LIFE, for the love of God!


I can't help that your stupid boyfriend (i.e., my ex-husband, but your drug dealer) won't ever 'marry' you, he said. But he, like you, is a lying idiot. You're proving to be an even greater one. And oh yeah; he's definitely clued in on your great plan. LOL.

*Still laughing over the 130 lbs. thing* *seriously considering posting those pictures...hahaha...but that would be torturous to my friends*

Oh...and "all those other men who want you"? I shiver in horror to think what they look like, and what type of drugs they give you. We alllll know what Dick looks like. And you're settling for that when you allegedly have 'all these hot guys AND the boyfriend you told me about' clammoring for your affection?! GET REAL. Why do you continue to incessantly try to "sell yourself" to me?!?! I assure you, you're not even in my ballpark. Come ON. Stop telling me how great you are, and who all wants you...lol. We know who you're with and he tried to explain WHY...LOL; that speaks VOLUMES. We've seen you. Sorry...but you are butt-freakin'-ugly. Inside and out (and I mean this in the nicest way; otherwise, I'd be mucho more hateful than I have been). And FYI: Look in a mirror before you leave the house. Those eyebrows look like you shaved in the dark. Pillsbury, I thought, was pretty funny. But him saying, and I quote verbatim: "Get it right: that's Michelin Man to you" is priceless. So psycho gets snaps for today, even though he's a loser, too. At least HE'S funny (or tries to be for me). ;)

Gawd...what a miserable existence you must have when the first thing you do on Christmas morning is read my journal. Go PLAY. That was PRICELESS, however.

And to the unfortunate friends who had to read this -- I would've made it just to her; however I refuse to contact/talk with either of them. And since she's made a point of reading my journal, like she's obsessed with me, this is my only way of communicating. So solly. :) I'm thinking those tapes should be mailed to both of 'em, pictures posted, and his messages/e-mail posted for both of them.

And FYI: I might've been stupid enough to marry him, but at least he never got a key to my house, and I kicked him out within a week. Yeah, I want him allright. Like I want cancer. Or like I want to look like Michelin Man/Pillsbury Dough Girl. That's why to this DAY he still whines about me kicking him out and never giving him a key. LOL.


Oooo. I forgot! I'm so sorry, Michelin, that your Christmas money from him was spent on my great gift he gave; but you know, it IS his money, and far be it for me to throw away a very expensive gift that he knew I'd love just because it came from him. That's why God invented pawn shops. HAHAHA. </b>


Enjoy your cheap scarf. It suits you. ;-)

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none_too_subtle
Creeping Through The Cellar Door

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Words.

Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card
Which is blank, is something that he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself;

One must be so careful these days.
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