| For you! |
[29 Jan 2007|05:20pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 content |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
regina spektor |
] |
It's almost hard to belive Livejournal still exists, being means nobody uses it anymore. I'm not gonna lie, typing the words "livejournal" was weird and now I feel awkward.
But I was in the neighborhood and decided to update this bad boy, seeing as I haven't done so in months. So here, read this:
My love life no longer requires the consumption of alcohol in order to function properly. I have a boyfriend who fills me with glee and spoils me with crazy gifts. If he ever leaves me, I'll kill him.
I also have a best friend who's not funny and who makes it her number one priority to make my life a living hell. If she's not setting my house ablaze, you'll find her spreading nasty rumors about me to all my friends, or adding blue food coloring to my laundry load.
None of the above is true. My best friend says lots of funny things and puts a smile on my face when things are lookin' grim. I enjoy spending time with her because she's a blasty blast and introduces me to exotic games, such as Rummikub(roomy cube...get it?). Julie Nelson loves me, feeds me, and will never leave me. Knowing this comforts me. :)
I am sixteen and have no driving experience whatsoever, which means I am qualified to do nothing. I'm too embarrassed to go back to the DMV and attempt getting my permit again because I fear that everyone will recognize me and snicker as I walk past them. "There's the girl who doesn't know anything," they'll say.
Moving to a new city is much more exciting now that I know I will be able to attend Western as usual. When we settle into our castle, I'm throwing a house party. But nobody can touch anything.
Love,
Pee Pee Johanson
|
|
|
[01 Nov 2006|11:45am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 happy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Get Down Tonight |
] |
After a long, heroin-induced night of tickle fights and Super Smash Bros tournaments with the gang, Nelson and I find ourselves weary and nauseous.A post Halloween hangover, if you will.However, a quick fix of pixie sticks and tootsie rolls are a sufficient pick-me-up in situations such as this. I find it hard to breathe,as the sugary goods I consumed last night take a chokehold on my heart. I don't think I have much time left.
I am currently having my hair straightened by the same woman who does Oprah's hair. I'm also black.
That's all.
|
|
| Good joke, guys. |
[15 Sep 2006|10:12pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 giddy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
fionna apple |
] |
Things are going really well for me, almost to the point where things are going TOO well for me. I'm just waiting for that special something or someone that will ruin the whole shabang and require me to start all over again. Hopefully, this person/event is too busy ruining someone else's life right now; enough to look over the fact that my life is a fucking carnival.
My grades are at their peak, topping the charts with A's and B+'s around every corner. I'm embarrased for you, because I know that your grades in no way compare to mine. Do yourself a favor and open a book.
School is a breeze so far...I cruise through class like a G in a Escalade and do the work minimum for the grade maximum. This will all change next semester, being means that I have all my core classes then. Don't expect me to keep this up. Bitching will begin mid January.
I'm gonna take this Homecoming thing for a ride and see where it takes me. I don't dance, but I do eat. And you know what they say: Where there's dancing, there's eating. I wasn't gonna go, then I got asked, so now I'm going. And by the way, my date has a nicer everything than yours. :) Put that in your mouth and chew it.
I think I start cross-country on Monday. I'm happy about this because I love running and I love running across countries even more than I love running. Hence, I'm happy about starting cross-country. Get it?
The concept of my job is still pretty shitty, but my coworkers are getting better and better as time progresses. I actually have fun at work sometimes, if the lighting is right and the mood is set.
My buddy,Max, goes to a school known as Pompano High where Fridays and school never appear in the same sentence, unless you were to say "I don't have school on Fridays," which is what he said to me. I then bestowed him the name "Fridays," and tickled him profusely. If and when I move to Pompano, I'm going to Pompano High.
Alright well, I'll quit being a jerk and let you go about your lives, hoping that they'll improve and knowing that they won't. Try to deter your mind from all the shitty things going on in your life, and think about all the good things you have, such as my delectable entries and I. This is as good as it gets for you. Luckily for me, it just gets better. :)
I'm really a pleasant person, so don't let this entry illude you into thinking otherwise. I wrote it this way on purpose, because I knew it would confuse you. HAH. I'm so silly.
Good night. <3
|
|
| Eileen Nelson....naked. |
[06 Sep 2006|04:08pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
chipper |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Ginger's Symphonics |
] |
Listen, I don't even like Julie Nelson. She's a bag of dousch. When she speaks, I get the urge to shove stale pixie sticks in my ears in order to block her voice from reaching my ear drum. I would rather spend the day with Adolf Hitler in the middle of the Gobi Desert...naked.
Her mother, Eileen Nelson, on the other hand, is an amazing creature and should be nominated as a saint. She speaks six languages, wears exotic clothing, and practices tribalistic rituals in her underground layer late at night. During these rituals she sacrifices small goats and adorns her door with flowers. Then she gets....naked.
Speaking of naked- being naked has to be one of the greatest joys on this good green earth. There's nothing better than baring it all for the world to see. Boobies, vaginas, penises all around!Let's get naked.
This weekend I took an adventurous trip to -waddayaknow-Islands of Adventure and Nelson and I got some top-notch, grade-A, high quality action. You could say that we spent FIVE hours in a dusty hotel room getting naked with boys, not eachother, you sick fuck. You could also say that these boys were fine real estate, if I may. But that's only if I COULD say that, which I can't...so quit imagining me naked.
Oh boy, I'm getting awfully sexual lately. Elena,if you're reading this- don't worry...I'm not really getting sexual. I just said that cause it was funny, and because I'm a little perverted bitch.
Moving on....Nelson and I are creating a cinematic adventure entitled Scary Penis IV. It's about modern day life from a penis' point of view. Real penises will be used.
I'm not as bad as you think I am. Honest. I gotta make a living too, you know.
Speaking of living...could it be any better? Breathing and talking and having sex, it's all amazing. How anyone could turn any of those things down is beyond me.
|
|
| Sex and Alcohol. |
[27 Jun 2006|03:22pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
crazy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
vasco rossi |
] |
Take a good look at that subject, folks, because this update has nothing to do wioth either of those things. I just wrote that so you'd pay attention. HAHA...faggot.
I am currently located just south of the Galapagos Islands,in a remote area where the natives still carve shit out of bamboo and eat their own feces.Maybe you know it by its more common name: Calabria, Italy.My date of return is July 26,2006. I prefer orchids over roses, and chocolate over just about anything, in case you wanted to buy me something.
You could say that I'm having oodles apon oodles of fun. You could even say that I'm having a fucking blasty blast.One doesn't have to say that, but one could if one were searching for an adjective to properly describe one's vacation. I love Italy, but Goddamn, do I miss my friends. And, it pains me to say this, but I miss school as well. Not that I have any intentions of raising my academic standards this year...once a slacker, always a slacker, as the Greeks say.
|
|
|
[24 Mar 2006|09:23pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 enraged |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Such Great Heights |
] |
ATTENTION CITIZENS:On this fine day, March 21st 2006, I, Jesus H. Christ, have been resurrected from the dead. Yes, it is true. I have come.
Actually, I have just spent a weekend on the sunny side of the lake and I'm feeling real good about it, so dammit, don't ruin it for me. I don't want to hear you bitch and moan about your mentally impaired parakeet's death. He was probably ugly anyway.
Saw II was the UH-PIT-TUH-ME of horrific films.I'm gonna go ahead and admit that I wriggled around on the floor during graphic scenes and barfed up and entire bowl of icecream and a few pieces of popcorn, right into the lap of my good friend, Cory Nelson.
Julie Nelson, on the other hand, was not able to attend our lovely get together this evening on account of a large, cancerous sore on the back of her neck. The cancer will slowly shut down her entire immune system, causing her ears to foam, and eventually, her brain to implode. Nothing serious.
Nah, she's great. I only write about her because she's sitting next to me. Otherwise, I would have no mercy and spread nasty rumors about her having cancer and whatnot.
Did you get that? FATTY.
Zamir is the PER-SAWN-IF-IH-KAY-SHE-YON of extravagant.He makes sliced bread look like a little girl with weak arms fighting a bear in the middle of spring. He's ten pounds awesome in a five pound bag.He's the cream of the crop. The eagle has landed. NAY! The eagle soars.
On my trip to Busch Gardens last weekend, I am pleased to announce that I hurled a foot long frozen burrito at a young boy while standing in line for some hash browns, and I communicated with an adolescent African American named Drey. He's very exotic.
And that's that. I have nothing more to say. I don't use words. I use emotions.
|
|
| For Nelson. |
[06 Mar 2006|06:24pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
happy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
puscifer |
] |
Holy honey pots, has it been a long time or what? Does anyone even read these things anymore, or has everyone moved on to bigger and better things? Yes,go ahead and mingle with myspace-it's hot, it's trendy, it's where all the cool kids are at...but don't forget your roots, kids. I think Jennifer Lopez put it best when she said "Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got, I'm still, I'm still Jenny from the block. Used to have a little, now I have a lot.No matter where I go I know where I came from." Thank you, Jenny, for those profound and stirring words. I mean, fuck you, I hope your huge ass falls off and wolves feast upon your plastic induced flesh.
My life, as usual, is probably a lot better than yours at the current time. I have a boyfriend who is amazing and who tells me lots of funny jokes (don't for one second think he's wittier than me,ya hear?). I have a best friend who is, eh, mediocre. And to finish off with a big shabang, I have two trips abroad to look forward to. Don't fool yourselves by thinking that this can be topped, because it can't. So silence, minions.
My grades, however, have seen better days. I refuse to overcome my laziness and hand in assignments on time. Rarely have I turned in an article of homework that I physically sat down and did myself. I plan to keep doing the bare minimum until I can no longer scrape by on it.
Because dammit, I'm a winner.
I have only skipped twice this entire semester and boy am I proud of myself. I'm a little fed up with it though...this whole, going to class thing. I miss skipping with Nelson and Zamir and Co. I wish I could go back and bake a cake of magical goodness that I would feed to the entire school staff. A cake that would make them forget all their worries so that in the event of a minor skipping predicament, they would be too overjoyed and internally satisfied to even take notice. A full belly is a happy heart.
Being the social butterfly that I am, I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I have made bundles of new friends this year. Some of them I like, and some of them I just force myself to be polite to. I wish I was Nelson so I could be a dick to people and not feel one shred of remorse about it later. Nelson, you kill me, but sheesh are you great.
I would write about Zamir in here, but quite frankly, I feel that I'm not at liberty to discuss it, as revealing that information may compromise my agents in the field. I'm sure you understand.
I leave you on a note of suspense. I must fly.
|
|
|
[24 Jan 2006|05:28pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
happy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
cursive |
] |
What the fuck, guys? Come on...you all need to stop bugging me about updating so much. Can't you fools see that I've become a very busy woman in the past few days? I mean, I'm giving up some of my precious time right now to write this dumb thing, when quite frankly, I'd much rather be exploring the outside world and training to be a botanist.
Nobody has EVER told me to update. Ever. That was just my attempt at trying to seem even the slightest bit popular.See, I like to believe that I have fans who read this crap and think "Wow, she's right. My life DOES suck compared to hers." I like to think that these said "fans" are disappointed every time they open up this page and see nothing but an old update that they've read a few times already. If they can squeeze out a tear or two, that makes it even better, and I give them extra props. Yeah, I like to dream. Dream that one day I will have my very own opinion column in some magazine where I'll get to say whatever I want and be bombarded with hate mail because I've nationally embarrassed Bob Saget,whom millions of children look up to. Maybe I'll just start my own magazine. It'll be one page(or two, if I'm feeling extra opinionated)and I will be the only writer for it. I'll call it the Corteo Inquirer.I'll sell like 9 copies a day, but I'll charge a good 30 dollars for one issue.Hey, reading what I write is a high price to pay. In fact, you're paying to view this page right now. I'll bill you later.
On Saturday, I celebrated the glorious day of my birth. I went to see Tristan and Isolde with Nelson and Erica...their treat. It was awesome, and I'd just like to say that Saturday nights at the Oasis are crazy, and I'm glad I don't spend mine there. This crazy Canadian, Neil, who I work with, made me a candle. When I lit it, it smelt strongly of burnt hair.
Zamir Picaddo is ridiculously...I don't even know.It's just ridiculous.
|
|
| When the fuck did we get ice cream? |
[29 Dec 2005|10:21am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
happy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
zee shins |
] |
About how many times did you check this page to see if I updated? A few times a day at least, correct? Don't fret... I don't blame you. I am pretty awesome. It's only natural that you would want to check in on me and see if I led you any deeper into the cave of my life.
Sheesh, I'm such a jerk. How do you people put up with it?
So how about that Christmas? Mine was pretty exceptional. Can Christmas ever be anything less than exceptional? No, it can't. Don't attempt to prove me wrong. The Mazella Di Bosco family was over as usual, and I got some pretty cool gifts (i.e. lots of books, candles,pajamas,etc.)
There was also a surplus amount of food that will no doubt last us through the winter. We're prepared little mammals, us Corteos. Squirrels ain't got nothing on us.
I've been hanging with the Nelsatron5000 a lot this winter break. It's been pretty cool, except for the times when she drools everywhere. Then it calls for some heavy duty paper towels and a respectable amount of bear tranquilizer to sedate her in her outrageous,uproarious state. Other than that, I guess she's alright. Her family, however, is top notch.
My little brother,Giovanni, is slamming doors continuously at this particular moment in time. I'm not sure what he's trying to get across. I believe he is unhappy...and I'm supposed to be babysitting right now, so perhaps I should go tend to him. Farewell.
Happy New Year :)
|
|
| That boy has the remnants of the fire. |
[18 Dec 2005|09:43pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 lovey dovey |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
kansas-dust in the wind |
] |
Are you ever doing something and you get up and leave for a second...then suddenly, when you come back to it, it doesn't seem so appealing anymore? Yeah well, I just did that with a bowl of cereal.
Besides that, my night was swell. Unlike Friday and Saturday night, where I worked my ass off because of the boat parade.People love boat parades, and I still remain oblivious as to why.As if it's not every day that you see a few boats with a few lights. Year after year these people flock to the intercoastal to watch this feeble act like drunk autistic children to a circus.What? I'm sorry. That was a terrible analogy. My point being, I hate boat parades and all people who partake in them. Shitheads, all of you.
Tonight I went with Nelson to some church thing that my mom wanted to go to.She invited me like a week ago and she sounded like she had her little heart set on it, so there was no way I could turn her down. Little did she know that with a demon child such as Giovanni, and my mother's heat disorder, along with a dumb stroller that you have to lug around everywhere, it is IMPOSSIBLE to have a good time. So it was gay and it rained and it smelled like goat shit. But it was all worth it because Nelson got yelled at by a chubby Roman soldier. :)
I am in love. I know that's hard to believe since I have a heart made of chrome and melted bullets,plus a terrible habit of lying... but this is true. Get over it.
Hope everyone is having a good winter break. Happy Holidays.
|
|
| FUN FACT: I make $3.50 an hour. |
[09 Dec 2005|10:13pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 thirsty |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
rage against the machine |
] |
Nelson, Zamir, Mike, and I got picked up by the cops yesterday for trespassing and skipping...oh, and "auto theft". Can I get a HIOHHHHH? Badass Central, right here. Look no further.Who's up for some serious skippage on Monday? HIOHHHHH HIOHHH HIOHHHH.
Today was my first full day of class since Monday.If I ever ask you to skip with me,go ahead and punch me. Make my face bleed. I really need to stop, stop, stop this shit.What? I'm talking outta my ass.Disregard my previous statement. Accept all my offers.
My job is starting to suck again.Something good better happen(gee I dunno, a RAISE would be nice) or someone's gonna be a very unhappy camper.
Thank you Sam for pointing out how much money I DON'T make.Needless to say, my ego is soaring right now.ZING.
My keyboard show is on Sunday, meaning that I will be performing for a room full of one hundred, hundred-year-old people. Quite literally. I won't even get an applause because the majority of them can't hear, and even if they can, their hands are much too brittle. We wouldn't want their bony little fingers to disintegrate into an ashy pile of powder on the floor, would we? Yes, we would.
Once you reach a certain age-you guys know what I'm talking about- The age where all you do is nag about shit that's not your business,and complain about your dumb head ache every day,craving any sort of sympathy you can get. The age where you start making up proverbs off the top of your head to prove a point that is not only stupid, but completely hopeless.In a nutshell, you become my grandma.You all know someone who's at that age,or approaching it quickly. At that age (usually ranges from the early 60s to the late 90s, if you make it that far), I believe you should be sent on a cruise with a bunch of your peers to some place exotic, like the Bahamas.You'll sip martinis,play ping pong, knit sweaters..the works. Then- midtrip- we'll torpedo the ship. There you have it. Problem solved. :)
I wanna go shopping. But not for me. For you, oh avid reader.
|
|
| And I'm back in the game. |
[01 Dec 2005|06:23pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
giddy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Clogs |
] |
Greetings, Space Buccaneers. Welcome back to the frontier of my mind-the happenings of my very soul. I realize that it's been a while since my last update and I sympathize your pain, but deal with it. I've been rather busy with all of my jousting tournaments and ass kicking these days. Hey, a knight's gotta do what a knight's gotta do, right? So enough about you..let's talk about me. After all, this is MY live journal, and you wouldn't have bothered coming here if you weren't interested in seeing how many people I made cry today and how much of a jerk I am. :)
Thing's are going pretty good lately. There's really not much I can complain about. My classes-when I show up for them-are extremely easy to pass, and my friends are the best. Nelson and I have been hanging out pretty much all the time,so naturally I've been gaining a lot of service hours. My teacher told me that hanging out with her is basically the same thing as taking care of a mentally retarded seven year old, and that I was doing society a favor. Plus, I'm making lots of dough cause her mom's paying me to be her friend. ZING.
Boy do I hate when people put those big blow-up snowmen out on their front lawn for Christmas.I especially hate it when those people happen to be my parents. BLOW-UP SNOWMEN ARE TACKY. Did it never occur to my mother that it hasn't ever snowed in Florida (shut up, that little flurry shit in the 80's didn't count), and that it never will? You see, our placement on the globe disables this from happening. So I ask you this: What logic-what CHARM- is there in putting these SUV-sized "snowmen" out on display? Are they mocking us? Are we supposed to believe that these jolly plastic men are in fact made of real snow?Call me crazy, but you shouldn't have a snowman on your lawn unless you live in a place where there is more than one form of precipitation than rain.We're not fooling anyone. So if your parents come up with some crazy idea such as purchasing one of these things, please pull them aside and calmly explain to them that the lights will do.
Need an interim or report card edited? Today is your lucky day, champ. For just one dollar,your F in PE can easily be restored to its original beauty, and all those unexcused absences in Science class are kicked out the door like a drunk 40 year-old pervert at a night club. Call 954 644 2937 for details or just talk to me sometime.Order now before this offer expires...must be 18 years or older to call.
I've been working my ass off with my keyboard, and it has finally all paid off. I don't care how nerdy this sounds because,dammit, I have to say it. I took my music tests at BCC and got honors scores on both of them.Huh,what was that? What did you say? You're right, I AM amazing, aren't I?
This is the new keyboard I want. I can easily say that it is everything I have ever wanted in a keyboard and more. I dream about this thing. Seriously. As soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew it was the one.However, check out the price on this puppy. That's at least a years worth of work without spending any of my tips, and that's really difficult to do. So, I think my readers and I have come to the point in our relationship where we can ask each other small favors once in a while. Can anyone lend me 4,000 dollars? Aw, thanks guys. :)
http://www.zzounds.com/item--NORSTAGE88
|
|
| I just wanna make everyone happy. |
[16 Nov 2005|06:12pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
happy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
scar tissue |
] |
I don't consider myself a mean person. I really don't. A sarcastic person, maybe...but not a mean person. But lately I've been wondering if my sarcasm and sense of humor might be a little too harsh for some people. I stayed after school today and I met some new people. I was acting my normal self-just joking,laughing,and being an idiot in general- and I was being really nice to these people. However, I guess they didn't find me appealing because they treated me like complete shit.I'm aware that I can't please everybody, but it really bugs me.I LIKE to make people laugh,it's the only thing I'm secure with. When I can't make someone laugh, I feel sorta defenseless. My sense of humor is what gets me by.If someone puts me down, I can either smack them right back down with a few witty comments, or I can laugh at myself and pull myself back up. But, when no one gives me the chance to do that, it's awkward for me. Does the rest of the world just have a giant rod up their ass, or is my sense of humor just messed up? Either way, I'm not changing. I'll always be a jerk. :)
I'm kidding, calm down.<3<3
|
|
| Sweet Gandalf's Eagles! |
[12 Nov 2005|10:21pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 shitty |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
the way we get by |
] |
Wee little Nelson came over my house on Thursday and slept over.Surprisingly, my brother remembered to wait for me in the parking lot rather than ditching me like he did the first three times. Nelson and I went through our usual routine,which consists of eating, walking around the neighborhood several times,eating again, watching movies,watching videos online, and hanging out with Danny and Adrien.That girl's the best. Seriously, shove it if you think otherwise.
Why does everyone find it necessary to smoke? I'm tired of learning that someone I never thought smoked actually does.I find a new one every day. Come on kids,grow up. That shit's lame.
Tonight I lied to my dad, and I pulled it off so well that it kinda creeped me out.I broke down in the car about some shit that I won't go into detail about while my dad was getting gas.When he asked me why I was crying, I made up some bullshit story about a handicap kid.It sounded so real, but I heard the words come out of my mouth and realized how fake they were,and that made me cry even more. So then I was crying for two completely different reasons, neither of which the one I told my dad about. I hate lying to my parents,but it's a thing I'm having to do quite frequently nowadays. Yeah, I lie to other people too, but mainly about stupid stuff. Sometimes I lie just to make a story sound more interesting. I can't help it.I'm a casual liar, and I hate it.
Work is beginning to get increasingly difficult as the season starts to kick in. I'm the only bus person now, so I work my butt off more than usual and make twice the money since I don't have to share the tips anymore. So I guess you could say that I'm making some pretty sweet mullah right now. Too bad I can't spend it in more joyous ways. Read on to find out why.
Since my parents have made the wise decision of sending me to Europe in April, I have taken it upon myself to get them the most kick ass Christmas gift this year. I'm spending most of the money that I've worked so hard for this past year, and I'm sending them both to a spa for an entire day so they can be pampered like royals, while I slave away at home and take care of my shit-faced kid brother. That way,they can't possibly hold this Europe thing over my head any longer. I'm such a conniving little fox.
This entry sounds way too high spirited. I'm actually quite down in the dumps right now.
Whammy.
|
|
| hurricanes blow |
[05 Nov 2005|10:53pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
good |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Joe bitching |
] |
With two weeks of no electricity, I finally realize how much I really love my night light and the comfort of a warm shower.After suffering through several frigid showers and severe cases of hypothermia, I have pretty much become immune to the cold. That's basically the only benefit that came out of this hurricane mumbo jumbo.Actually there's a few other perks,but I really just wanted you to be sympathetic towards me for a second.
What the hell kinda name is Wilma anyway? It's WIMPY.A storm with 120 mile per hour winds and the capability of making Andrew look like a fight between two girls with weak arms deserves a name with respect and authority. Like, "Crush" or "The Pulverizer".The name should strike fear into young children's hearts, not remind them of some dumb prehistoric slut in a ridiculous cartoon.That's just weak. And why couldn't they pick a better name? It's not like these hurricane namers have such a busy schedule that they can't all just sit around for a few hours and pick an appropriate name. They name hurricanes for Pete's sake...that's what they DO. It's they're CAREER. Someone with a career as easy as that has no excuse to slack off. "But I have children who demand my attention all the time, and I have to cook and clean and watch TV.I just don't have TIME for serious thought processes and whawhawhabullshitbullshitbullshitsobsob". Shove it, idiots.A dead chimp could do your job, and probably a lot better too.
Hey, my trampoline blew away.I walked outside the day after the storm and I KNEW something was missing, but I just couldn't put my finger on it.Then it hit me: No trampoline.We found it a few days later in the neighbor's lake, not ours. I can only imagine the journey it must've took.I hope it killed someone while it rolled across the street.That would be bad ass.The spot where it's supposed to be is now completely desolate, save for a few patches of grass and some coconuts.It brakes my little heart when I have to explain to Giovanni why I can't take him to go see the trampoline anymore. *RIP Big Bertha*
I find it rather ironic that the only tree that survived in our yard was the one that we told my dad would definitely not survive. See, he was hell bent on saving our mango tree which had fallen down during Katrina, so he tied it with a rather conspicuous yellow rope to a fence to make it stay up. We told him that it was useless, that it would fall down again during Wilma. But to our dismay, and to my father's grim satisfaction, the little mango tree (or mango stub, because that's really all it was) was the only soldier still standing. And my dad is not showing an signs of letting us live it down. This will haunt me for years.
Joseph Corteo is currently being a dumb ass and won't quit bitching about me being on the computer. So I bid you farewell for now, avid readers.Until next time.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
system49's journal