More Move

More Move

Move is very frustrating. I am still not sleeping in my own apartment. I’m staying with my folks. The super is in my apartment 12 hours a day getting it ready. Everywhere he looks there’s something else he wants to fix. The bedroom floor was ripped up when I first picked up my keys; now the floor is glued down but it’s very gluey smelling in there, and the super was fixing the closet and the bathroom while I was there. So I’m still not sleeping there.

Perhaps tomorrow. Somehow I doubt it.

My sister has a couch and a dining set for me…I would love to have those, because without it I have, like, no furniture in my living room.

Well, at least I HAVE a living room, isn’t that right. I want my dsl, man. I want my dsl!!!

So we’re going to be going to war, eh? Well well well. We all need to kiss Bush’s bushy ass, that’s what. I’m not sure who’s more comparable to Hitler here…Bush or Saddam Hussein. I love all the talk. Oh, should we or shouldn’t we? What will the UN say? Oh please. Like we won’t do whatever the US asks us to do. Hello, economy dependent on the US. Like we’d tell the US to fuck off in a meaningful way.

Pshaw. So we’re going to war. Because Bush wants to. It sickens me. It really does.

What makes a person so poisonous righteous
that they’d think less of anyone who just disagreed?
She’s just pacifist, he’s just a patriot
If I said you were crazy would you have to fight me?

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