I want to blog in Latin but to fuck with that. I'm drunk, dehydrated, my room's a landmill of garbage with bottles of hard liquor and cigarette ashes sprinkled everywhere... and my mother's coming. :o

Bloody fuck. It's not about my mother.

My neighbor broke up with his girlfriend because of me. I didn't seduce the bloody fucker or anything. Matter of fact, I treated him like a brother. My neighbor, who also happens to be my orgmate, also happens to be my drugmate; he's my neighbor-orgmate-drugmate to put. And there was this particular night when I slept in his place, on his bed reeking with a miasma of sweat and vinegar and men's perfume, while he slept on the cold fucking floor. His insecure girlfriend of four years somehow knew about it--how she did, I have no idea--and misinterpreted it maliciously, thinking I'm a cockslut or something fucking her fugged buffoon boyfriend. Dude. I was after the drug (marijuana) to alleviate my insomnia, and I apparently dropped asleep in his place. But he wouldn't let me talk to his girlfriend because she doesn't know he's doing drugs. Blargh. What am I supposed to say? I slept in his place because we're close fucking friends?? Fuck no. She can suck all his bollocks for all she wants but what about me?? It's my reputation on the line here; it's been circulating around the org that I'm a big fucking whore ditching boyfriends.

Bleah.

Let her think what she wants to think. If she wants to think I slept with her buggerboy then let it be. Let it consume her and tear her apart. That's not my fucking problem.

Word did you say?

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