Your Art is Wrong!
my quasi-relationship partner sent me this this morning:
Here you go, sweets. they're pretty shitty this week, but better than nothing.
I don't have a lot to say, really.
I know, you can't believe it at all, me not having anything to say...
I'm at the point where a lot of personal stuff is going on, and there's a lot to bitch about workwise, but I gotta contain that for now.
don't worry, pete... on the off chance that you actually READ THIS, which i know you don't, i'm not unhappy. just the standard client gripes...Apparently, I'm in a "quasi-relatinship". I don't care. It makes me happy.
Fuck this... i'm not in the mood to type and boo is on the phone.
Come back tomorrow night, i'll have a new Real World stream of thought tomorrow.
You kids have a good day. Me? I'm roughly 68 hours from heaven.
I got this today in my email...
I think a while ago you told to write you about what pisses us off? or mayabe thats just my interpretation. It pisses me off that that guy killed his little girls. Fucker. They were cute little girls too, i knew 'em. Asshole brings three lives into the world and then wrenches them away from them. you just dont do that.
when you go home today, or if you're home now. Go hug your kids, or someone else's kids - even if you don't like kids.
23 Jun 99
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