Yesterday :: Today


July 17th [Steave is a pussy]

6:17 p.m. :: 2005-07-17

I can't beleive how much of a pussy Steave is. It's amazing. I'm out of shape, and he would rather fall to the floor at my feet than fight me. I don't know why he wouldn't fight me. You're supposed to be able to fight your friends because you know they wont .. kill you, or rob you, or put you in the hospital... at least not intentionally. All I wanted was for Steave to stick up for himself.

I heard about the other day when TaJuan had Steave do push ups, and he couldn't do one male pushup. He couldn't do five female pushups before TaJuan could do ten-four count mariene pushups.

He let Matt hit him in the face with the broom three times. He didn't exactly "let," he tried to block the broom with his hand, but he didn't try to fight Matt for hitting him with the broom in the first place. His excuse for why he couldn't fight AB (ronnie) was because he was high, and that he would do it if he was given another date and time. Steave only hit one L that day. I smoked three, myself, and was no longer high at that time. Yet, somehow the master of copouts was.

My sister beat him up again. Again... Even Missi, the girl who wanted to go out with him two weeks ago was in his face, swinging, calling him a pussy.

Nothing has happened in my life personally. I've been to sleep, eaten... etc. Except I realized that the smell Janet and I make durring sex is disgusting.

...yup...

Raederle thinks: Jeremy is sitting next to me... This is never going to stop being awkward is it? I keep thinking I'm going out with him, even though it's been forever... anyway, Jeremy says:

My brother got back from out of state the other day. And... I now officailly whoop his ass in Tecken Five. I am the master of all that is Tecken. Bow before me like Steave did in real life. Yoshimitsu is a monster. Remember children, the sword is unblockable.

Other than this my life is crap, I go to the card shop when it's open to try and sell cards. I don't get much from it, no one buys cards for what they're worth anymore. Selling cards worth 18 dollars, for five. Yippi. (by the way, that was sarcasism)

I feel so awkward, I still don't have my glasses, it should be Wedsday at the latest. My father thinks they'll be done by tomorrow, he says he'll pick me up tomorrow to get them. They're two small frames, not too small as in too small for my face, but thin lenses, unlike the ones I've had for years.

One of them is tinted. (not one of the lenses, one of the pair.)

Raederle thinks: I wish I had someone to type for me who could type and spell better. Shit, I'd write all day - make that, talk all day. But yeah, that wont ever happen.

Jeremy says he has nothing else to "report to the computer."

Goodday. Wasn't my life fun?

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