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I'm thinking if Bush pulls this election out of his ass like the 2000, there will be a spike in sniper rifle sales. What the fuck America, again I am ashamed to live here.

The night of the 30th was insane. I looked mega-hot all gothed up with no place to go. First party didnt start jumping till two hours after we'd left it. We followed these girls that Prett and Gary knew to another party, which ended up being at Grimey's house. Needless to say shit hit the fan and I ended up kicking his mailbox down and beating him with it. Well I punched him in the nose too, but the mailbox was my favorite part. Fuck that pussy, whenever I get a chance I'm knocking the mailbox down again, and when he puts it back up Imma knock it down AGAIN, make that mother fucker get a PO box. The "short" story is that someone purposefully sliced one of the girls with a broken beer bottle, then no one was helping us stop the bleeding (very bad) there were no towels, tp or paper towels and I went upstairs to ask for something to wrap her hand in and to clean up the blood and was told that he didnt care if that bitch was bleeding to death just make sure she does it in the street, and then I got the door slammed in my face. They have no idea what it means to be cold and heartless, so I showed em. Downstairs they'd found some dirty nasty washcloth, which I wouldnt have even used to clean dead woodchuck off the grill of a car it was that gross, and some douche was trying to pull it away from her saying she had to leave and couldnt use the cloth. Another asshole was bitching her out for getting over the sink and bleeding over the clean dishes. Meanwhile Gary is trying to get us all to leave and is actually APOLOGIZING to them... yeah... so on our way to the van I "accidently" kicked the mailbox down, post n all, then when Grimey bitch decided to shove me he got a shoulder full of mailbox. It was cheap aluminum so it probably didnt hurt all that much. But it was the thought that counted. Soon he charges and had his hands around my throat and I did what I did with Harlan sort of. He was choking me all wrong, his hands were way too high up and I told him this, and then I put my hands over his and moved them down to the right spot, and then I pressed down on them and said "see, you're not even squeezing hard enough, I'm still breathing..." and half the people laughed, the other half gasped/were like "holy shit!", so having to save face he punched me in mine, which I barely felt and I said "and that's not how you punch a bitch... this is how you punch a bitch" SLAMMED him right in the nose. I was laughing too hard and he managed to shove me back into the van, they say my head bounced off the side window a couple times but I dont think it did. That's when Prett made the mistake of stepping up and saying "Hey thats my sister youre pushing around" and about 5 guys jumped on top of him. Meanwhile the rest of the crowd had started trying to stop the fight and every time I tried to throw a punch I'd have one of the girls on my arm, or Gary trying to hold me back, or some pussy kicking me in the back of the head. Some really tall motherfucker in a leather coat that I ripped with my teeth... he was kicking me in the head when I was in the pile trying to get fuckheads offa Prett. Grimey had Prett in a headlock and was punching him in the nose, meanwhile I had my foot on Grimey's head, against the road, and if I wouldnt have been holding back, his brains woulda been all over the road cuz I know for a fact that a human skull can't hold my body weight if applied on one foot at the right spot. The pile shifted and I tumbled down on top of Grimey, I was getting punched in the face by three different fists but it didnt stop me from drawing blood on the back of Grimey's arm, tender spot I know, while having him in a headlock. After the fight I thought I should have mandible clawed that bitch, and it'll be the first thing I do if I ever see him again. The cops were called, and everyone in the van (Prett, Gary and some douchebag named Jeremy Paine from Shortsville, aka "Sparky"-- presently selling bunk acid all over Canandaigua along with some kid named Chris, but that's another story) was against me, Sparky hitting me in the back of the head and threatening to kill me WHILE I was on the phone with 911. Brilliant move there cochise. He tried snatching my phone away on several occaisions and the police called back at least 4 times. Gary even said that I needed to give my phone to Sparky. Gary also vouched for this guy to Erin about said acid, then when it turned out bunk he told me and Erin that he didnt know the guys name whom he'd bought it from but if he ever sees him around he'd let us know... blah blah blah. This acid shit was the day before the whole fight thing happened too. Gary's on my bitch list. Now I dont know about you but if someone I know sells me bunk acid that I turn around and sell to a family member, then I dont hang around with that guy, in fact that guy isnt gonna be looking too pretty for a while. But Gary's a pussy bitch like that. Back to the story... we get to Hess, the girls and their friend and Prett all get out and check their damages. I only had a sore spot on my left forearm. I took a lot of punches, but in being able to thwart pain I think I dodge the damage all together. The thing on my arm felt like a bite, reminiscent of Jacob, the autistic kid I used to home nurse who bit me a lot. No teeth marks this time though so I dont think it was a bite. I dont remember anyone doing anything in particular to that arm, except for the people who were trying to pull me away from the pile on my brother, or people who were trying to pull me to the van. All those people woulda been "on my side". Except for the underage hotties we followed there in the first place everyone was pissed off at me and blamed me for themselves getting hurt, I was the bad guy. Especially calling the cops on a bunch of waste of skin drug dealers and crackheads. How awful THAT was. Sweet sweet "coincidence" though... through all the violence the bruise on my arm turned into a heart. It looks tie-dyed, it's very pretty and romantic. All of my favorite colors are inside a bruise.

After that we got more alcohol (meh, why not?) and headed to our house but there was no camper party so we went separtate ways, us going to Tops for tapioca pudding and bread and cheese, and the girls and their guy friend going to get their cars. While at the checkout line though they called and invited us over to a party in Victor. I sort of learned how to play Asshole but being anti drinking games, especially drinking games that involve cards, I left the game after three rounds. I called Daniel because a couple days earlier when I called him he was with his mom and said he had to go but that we needed to talk soon cuz I had some splainin to do. I knew he'd been in my diary again so I figured it had something to do with that. On the phone he cursed me for even thinking at any time in the past or present that he would ever be my boyfriend or even think about being my boyfriend and that he's never under any circumstances even given any kind of hints or suggestions otherwise, maybe MAYBE if I was lucky, and hot, MAYBE he MIGHT fuck me when I get out to California. And I'm not even going to comment on it because it's the sort of thing that attention whore is going to search my diary for. It's trite and absurd. On to the next...

Greg and I spent Sunday and Monday night together. I called Greg and Nicole around 11pm Sunday to tell them there was no camper party, that Papa Bear was already asleep. I suggested that if they wanted to hang out I was over at the trailer park behind McDonalds (Heather's place, the bi girl that flirts with me all the time at karaoke) and we had beer, food and were watching movies. Around 1:30 the phone rings and it's Greg, askign where the party's at. I gave the phone to Gary cuz I didnt know my way around the park. He got up to check the house number and when he opened the door there were headlights coming around the corner and it was them already. Greg came in and sat down, got a beer opened and someone asked where Nicole was. He said "she'll be in, she's getting somethign out of the truck" I looked out the window and there was no truck. I looked out the door and there was no truck... and we were litterally inseperable the next 36 hours. He said a lot of nice things, one being that he was going to break up with her for good (she threatens suicide every time). I'm not holding my breath on the break up, but I'm also not fucking him again until they do. Not a moral issue, more like he's getting the best of both worlds, and this homie dont play that. "If I break up with her, you'll be my girlfriend, right?" (a little co-dependant there, ain't we Greg?) I know he wants to be with me, but right now I'm needed theraputically while Nicole is needed functionally. She's the ride to and from work each day, and she buys him beer a lot and shares her weed a lot etc. I told him straight up that I go 50%, and not 51.

He was a no call no show at work Monday, seeing he never really stopped drinking and we never really SLEPT in the bed. We got dinner together and made our way back to Heather's to pick up the room we "slept" in and to get my stuff. We got a ride from some kids that were there, and originally we were just going to stay at the house but seeing it was only 8pm it was too early, there was too much drinking potential and we had to go back downtown to the Pick. While there he came up with the bright idea to go to the Farmer's. This came shortly after Nicole calling my cellphone RIGHT at her dinner break time. She also called around 11:30pm but Greg and I were "too busy" to answer then. So everyone at the farmer's saw Greg and I together, and though I hung out out front a few minutes before walking in after him, it was still pretty obvious cuz I wasnt drinking or talking to anybody else, just watching Greg suck ass at pool (he's usually pretty good, so that means he was very drunk). Also Greg kept coming up and putting his head on my shoulder, and also the whole grabbing my ass three times thing prolly clued them in. Or maybe it was Steve the bartender asking where his old lady was, and Greg saying "right here" (me) and Steve saying "No, Nicole...?" and Greg saying "Nicole who?", maybe that was a clue as well. I felt like a trophy and surprisingly it didnt feel good. I think though, the logic behind it is the fact that in the letter she wrote him she said she'd break up with him if he didnt start treating her better (Ive never really seen any mistreatment??) so he's probably thinking that if he gives her good reason, she'll dump him and feel way better about herself than if he dumped her. Also I bet he's a little bit of a pussy in not wanting to hurt anybody blah blah, the same shit I heard from Eric. I'm not saying Greg is perfect, but he's pretty damn close to my ideal pot smoking video game playing mucho humping no drama having boyfriend. Plus he really likes to snuggle, he laughs at all my jokes, and he talks to Klondyke like he's real too, without me doing it first. And maybe, just maybe (though I'm not holding my breath on this either) in two weeks he'll crumble to the kitchen floor sobbing, begging me not to let him drink anymore just like Geoff did. I'll try to find a pic of Greg to upload. I dont know how well any of them are that he's in, but I'll check.

In other news, work's got me scheduled some lame ass 9pm to 3am six hour bullshit shift. At sux hours you have to take a 30 minute break, so I'm either working over, clocking in 5 minutes late or leaving after 5.5 hours. I'm getting 24 hours this week, "well la-di-freakin-da!".

My mom is moving back into the house until healed from her shoulder surgery happening on Nov 17th. She called right as I was clocking in to tell me she's sleeping in my bed "Ummm, You might want to change the sheets...".

Always remember to quit while you're ahead.

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