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and she kept walking

sorry for the absence y’all
lil Marty has been swamped with university essays, tests, and a play which opens THIS THURSDAY! excitement much!

Today I had lunch with the ex.
And the final verdict is: he is a douchebag.

My tic’s a bit much tonight. I’m so overtired. I tried to wake up early today to work hard and then I was too shleepy, which means I now have to pull a veeery late night so I can finish this rfmrkcnhufed!!!!&*&&*^^** essay on Intertextuality by tomorrow morning. I have a headache, took 3 panado’s, cried for an hour today, got lots of cuddles from people I care about, and SWORE SO MUCH wow.

This is a crap post and a lot of my posts have been. I will make it up by writing a book soon.

The new Regina Spektor album is fabulous. Download it. Steal your brother’s computer, break into an Internet Café, do whacha godda do, just get the damn album ASAP. It is called “Far” (which should be an acronym for Fucking Amazing Rawr)

This pirate gangsta’s going to go write another 1000 words on Julia Kristeva and her rhubarb about the text and the word and the MEEEANING nothing means ANYTHING in this Post-Modern world oh my gawd we’re all suh Post-Mawdern! ! !

ALL BOYS ARE CUNT BAGS.
THEY ARE NOT MEN, THERE IS NO SUCH THING.
‘MAN’ IS A SIGNIFIER WITHOUT A SIGNIFIED!!!!

And you know what’s really funny? He drove into a hole filled with wet cement with his scooter. And me, I’m doing fine (bathtubs aside). And you know what? AHAHAHAHAHA.

Marty does not need any dickwad to wake up next to to feel good about herself. Marty is just fine with her backpack and her cat. And while Marty is good-hearted and tries not to be vengeful, she thinks it’s fucking hilarious that the titface has textbooks covered in cement now. HA HA HA HA.

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Comments on: "and she kept walking" (1)

  1. Oh shebeedee. I just realised I don’t own a cat yet. Well excluding the ones at my parents’ house. Hmm. Imaginary friend cat? Can you get sent to an asylum for having one of those?

    I want a kitty called Edgar. A slightly old cat whom nobody wants, who I can take home and cuddle.
    He can keep my feet warm at night. That’s all I needed a boyfriend for anyway.

    Can I drop out of varsity and become a writer? I’ll retire in a mountain house with cats and paper.

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