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Wednesday, March 05, 2003
Christ. My life sucks more arse than Ian Thorpe last Saturday night. Geddit? Because Saturday was Mardi Gras, and Thorpe is a big flaming gaybo? Shut it, it was hilarious in my head.

HE wasn't at the cunting supermarket this morning. Rats! I got up early, brushed my teeth a couple of times, made sure my hair was in it's curly finest (I've given up on it being straight. Stupid 'tard hair), scented up, strapped myself into my casual day-slut top, and rinsed out with some mouthwash for him. Well, normally the mouthwash would come after some cum-gargling, but it doesn't hurt to have minty fresh breath. How selfish of him to be a no show! I had to go through the aile of my third favourite checkout person. Although ahead of me were two Chinese nuns in these hilarious nun-suits, so it was alright.

I purposely left out some items I should go back for, so I'll probably do that this arvo. He used to work Wednesdays. Stupid ass changing his schedule on me! Maybe I can bribe someone into giving me a copy of the roster. If not, I'll go tomorrow.

Also on my agenda today: asking Cheekbones to have a beer with me tomorrow lunch time, so I can whine and maybe he'll come out with me on this weekend for more stalkage. He wont though, as he is an ass. And is never happy for me when I have an eligible. Fucking cunts. Fucking homos.

I reckon I'd be the best homophobe. Stupid high education and open mind.