cut me from my cradle.
you know what? i'm really pissed off. it's six o'clock in the morning on a saturday, and i'm doing laundry. i've been sitting up all night, playing video games, a ouija board, listening to led zeppelin and drinking caffeine-free coke. i've been sitting up with the evil JENNY, in hopes that some of our little evils will rub off on one another and will make each other a little less perfect...
or will make us want to try to be a little less. yeah, that's it.
there's a sicko out on the streets tonight. he's called my room three times this year. when he calls, he asks me if i've ever given a blowjob. he pretends like he has the wrong number. he called my friend larissa numerous times and harassed *sp?* the hell out of her.
larry mcdaniels, i know your name. goddess help you if i ever find out where you fucking live. you toothless, worthless, uneducated, inbred, pedophiliac bastard. goddess help you if i ever get my hands on a professionally made hockey stick and make my way to your front door. goddess help you as i knock out the rest of your teeth all over the pavement and laugh at you bleeding. goddess help you as i break both your hands with the blunt end so you can't call eleven-year old girls anymore and ask if THEY know what a blowjob is.
this is my demented little fantasy. KALI. massive destruction and changing the real cockroaches inside to physical manifestations of that intellect... KAFKA, baby. the only thing that will be alive thousands of years from now, SCARY larry, are life forms like you. low forms of reality, but not yet rotting. forced to live where nothing else stands. forced to roam around on barren rock in unbearably cold conditions without feeling a thing.
GIRLS, they should KEEP people like this man in state institutions. the fact that a campus stalker has been calling random numbers for years now (was jailed for it last year,) knows the extensions well enough to find out room numbers in the coed hall (FEMALES only fellas... no enjoying this for you!)... it's enough to make my skin crawl DOUBLE up underneath itself.
there's a killer on the road... his brain is squirming like a toad...
i'm so FUCKING ANGRY. i'm so mad that life is like this. they're not going to do anything until he rapes me... a friend... a 12-year old girl. until he clams his decrepid, toothless mouth over some girl's lips until she can only scream hollow breath, and blows his stinking air into her over and over again. it's going to take a knife to her throat and years of anguish on her part for the police to do anything about it. and the fact that SCARY larry had his fucking teeth knocked out and was more than likely BUTTRAPED in prison didn't teach him enough of a lesson... enough to understand what it's like to be USED.
give ME the club. i'll teach him a lesson. he'll never pick up a phone again when i'm done with him. come on. give me the authorization to DEFEND MYSELF against this ASSHOLE you won't do anything to stop, since i can't carry even a bottle of fucking MACE on campus or to my car without it being 'against policy'. maybe it's legal here for me to use my teeth. for me to take just enough of a lite bite out of him as he descends on me like a vulture. hell, admins... he's not an athlete, therefore he's not your problem... right?
i'll keep you updated on the phone stalker, SCARY larry mcdaniel. just don't hold your breath, hoping that anything positive will happen. wednesday's child is full of woe.
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