Friday, June 14, 2013

Back to Square One

So last post Annalee kicked me out of the house, because I pushed her too far or whatever. Big surprise there, it's probably a surprise it didn't happen sooner.

Actually the real surprise is why I didn't walk out sooner. No one I know would've put up with Annalee's shit. It's like living in bootcamp with Remember the 60's playing nonstop. I've had "My Boyfriend's Back" stuck in my head for days now. Also Annalee, despite the fact you'll never read this because you threw out the guy with the computer, your singing is fucking terrible and The Angels would be ashamed.

Anyway, as soon as the transmission cut she pretty much tossed me out and locked the door. I managed to walk to the road and hitch a ride in to town. I'm not exactly rolling in cash so I've been just kind of hanging in this library and sleeping on park benches. It really isn't ideal. Annalee's tried to teach me poker but I don't exactly have anything to bet with besides my laptop. I really don't want to sell my laptop but the options getting more and more appealing.

I guess I might as well just wait to die. I've been throwing up because of the drugs and it won't be long before the sleeping outside kills me, or I wind up in jail again. Actually jail sounds awesome, I should go get arrested. Or committed. "I spent five months in a shed near area 51 with a psychotic hispanic bitch with a drinking problem, robbing hospitals, and being hunted down by a giant hentai monster and his evil mind control minions."

This is what my life amounted to in the end. Fucking figures.

I don't know where I'm going. It doesn't really matter I guess.

She's probably better off without me anyway. She kept saying I wasn't worth her time, but I know she really was trying to help. It's just a little depressing when the female version of Rambo says even she's done with you and your shit.

But hey, that's what I wanted. I got what I had coming. You say what your thinking to your shitty friends, and low and behold they don't want you around anymore. I guess it won't matter either way.

I have no idea where that leaves you guys, but what do you care? The two of us are just how you distract yourselves from your own petty lives, like a damn reality show.

Please direct any and all self help advice to PO Box Go Fuck Yourself.

I've heard it all before, and I'm done.


  1. Well I'm willing to offer what advice I can, but those last few comments are kind of hurtful and make me reluctant to help out because I'm scared it will just come off as patronising and you'll get angry and I don't want to make you angry because you're probably bigger than me.

  2. Dammit I thought she said she was going to FIX THIS. Argh. She's a dumb bitch sometimes.

    Jail sucks, mental hospitals are almost worse, and please try to stay alive long enough for this shit to get resolved.