(Yeah, you'll read my journal now that I've said something about cocks.)

So, like, I'm being an emotional bastard this week.

And I've been on a holy fuck-storm of ups and downs.

Rynn wanted to see me for his birthday, and I can't go because the money is tight and I'd loose and few jobs visiting him.

This caused some problems, and I've felt like a real dick for a few days.



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I've had a few firsts this week, too.


Like, I went to a few bars and got "bar drunk" for the first time.

I played pool well for the first time- I became progressively better through the night and myriad shots that I slopped down my gullet.

I went to a gay bar.

I danced in a gay bar.

I danced on a stripper pole.

I danced on a stripper pole with two gay guys.

The owner wants a mural, and wants me to come up with concepts.

I got a bunch, and I can totally rock this shit.

It's like I'm a shitty artist, and there are amazing artists out there wanting to do what I do, and I get to it first, do the job, and come out rollin' in the bitches.

I feel like a bastard, and a worthless, no-good piece of shit that just happens to be extremely lucky and find someone with a scat fetish.

DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW REALLY LUCKY I AM?

I have like two polar extremes with luck.

It's either really good, or it's so bad I feel like slitting my wrists to let Lady Luck suck out the last bit of life I have.

That's another thing...
I'm feeling so down, but shit... I don't want to off myself.

Fuck killing myself, man. I'll just wait until someone does it for me.

Fuck everything with a giant horse cock.

I'm going to knuckle down, wait out this period storm, and wait til the crimson rain has cleared up.