1/24/06

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::urrrrrrrrrp:: “Oh! ‘Scuse me!” “POO! That was kind of nasty.” “No kidding, bro. That was nasty, Poo. NASTY!” “NAAAAAAASTYYYYYYYYY!” “Seriously, Poo. That was kind of gross.” “Y’all shut UP. I don’t hear you complaining when you run around FARTING on everyone.” “Our farts smell good. No one wants to smell your stank-breath tuna belches. God, that’s nasty. You’ve turned me into a zombie with your nastiness.” “Braaaaaaaaainsss. BRAAAAAINS!!!” “Yeah, me too! I’m a zombie! BRAAAAAINSSS!” “Shut up. God. Why couldn’t I have been an only kitten? Why did I have to have to have YOU GUYS as little brothers?” “Look, you killed me with your stank breath! I’m laying here dead!” “Um, Tommy, you’re not really dead, are you? Because you look dead!” “::whisper:: Shhhhhh, Shoogie! I’m pretending. I just look so dead ’cause I’m a really good actor, and as soon as The Momma realizes it, I’m going to make us a lot of money in commercials and stuff. I’m going to demand a hundred million thousand ten dollars to pretend to be dead, and then I’m going to buy you and me all the Cheerios we can eat! /::whisper:: I’M DEAD BECAUSE OF POO-PIE’S STANK BREATH!” “SHUT UP, Tommy, you little asshole, or I’m going to come over there and pound you into the ground, and then you really WILL be dead!” “Uh ohhhhhhhh, she said a bad word! She called you a bad name!” “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Poo called me a bad name and she hurt my feelings and she SAID A BAD WORD!” “Shut up, asswipe, she’s not even home. GOD. She left five minutes ago to get a fountain Diet Coke at McDonald’s, and she’ll be so jazzed on caffeine and fountain soda goodness that she won’t care WHAT I called you, or whether your stupid little baby feelings were hurt. SO HA!” “She’s got you there, bro.” “I don’t care. She’s just jealous because I’m so pretty and she’s a big ugly brat with a permanent sneer and a messed-up eye and NASTY NASTY STANK BREATH. I’m still totally telling The Momma when she gets back, and she’s going to spank your behind until you cry like a little baby.” “I. Hate. You.”
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Previously 2005: Letters. 2004: No entry. 2003: I swear, I have no control over my body sometimes. 2002: The shithole on Goddard Street. 2001: Lucky for her I’ve calmed down to a growling grumpiness, or it wouldn’t be a very good time to be the spud. 2000: We’re a pathetic lot, aren’t we?]]>