rat tat tat tat....

Is the sound of a gun...according to Teresa's boyfriend, Geneo.

So I found this old picture of me and my homies, and i was all bumed out because I forgot that I use to wear this fishing hat all the time back then, and i dont have it now.
Stupid to get all depressed over a retarded looking, presently quite unfashionable, fishing hat...but i digress.

drank some wine, planned out next semesters classes, as well as back ups...orientation tomarrow, which will suck because i hate the fucking hoops you must jump through to be all "up in the club" when it comes to college.

plus, i cant ever fucking sleep, ever. it has become utterly stupid...but this should be quite obvious when it comes to the pathetic and irony filled piece of suck that is my pitiful disgrace of an existence.

frank sinatra is cool though. so yeah, i will pretend to be frank sinatra tomarrow...and for the next couple of months, or however long my memory will grab onto the thing. I already have a cute "here's looking at you" kinda gesture. so yeah, blah blah blah....fucking fishing hat...i should just go buy another one and become a hermit or something. or something.

"She'll have no crap games with sharpies and frauds
and she won't go to Harlem, in Lincolns or Fords
and she won’t dish the dirt, with the rest of the broads
That’s why the lady is a tramp"