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2002-09-19, 5:58 p.m.

Quick entry here. I can't talk much. It seems that every time I try to get on the computer some invisible force throws chores in my face to keep me off the computer. Even now I probably won't be able to write much.

I saw Alex this mornin'. I haven't seen him in two years. He hasn't changed much, thankfully. My other friends have abandoned him because of his punk-rocker lifestyle. I mean he's not all that punk, actually. Yea, he's got the clothes, but he hasn't really made any drastic changes. He hasn't dyed his hair like his buddies have.

Speaking of which, that's the reason why my friends are ignoring him: his buddys. One's got a purple mohawk and the other has his hair plastered in about 3 inch chunks sticking out in different directions. I can see why it would make my ghetto-fabulous friends feel uncomfortable, but God. His friends' appearances don't bother me, though. I guess I'm a rocker at heart.

During lunch I hung out with the guys -Pablo, Drew, Heath, and Tad - as usual. We mostly made sexual inuendos out of what others said. Drew topped it.

"Hey, is that a stain on your tit?" [How pleasant. Actually, there was a stain, but I have no clue where it came from.]

"Yea. I got it while I was leaning on this boy in the car." My brothers needed a ride to school and we had to cram our fat behinds in the backseat.

"A car, huh?"

"Yea. I had to squish into the backseat."

"So why were you sitting so close to him?"

"There were four of us back there!"

"OH MY GOD!"

Hm. It loses it's humor on paper. *sigh*

Well now I've gotta go. I'll add on to this entry later. Seeya.

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