Man. I'm hurting once more. I guess that's what comes from being born a freak with a malfunctioning kidney and two uteris'...

But it also could be from the fact that I managed to rip a chunk out of the end of the pointer finger of my right hand. It bled a lot. I think it's still bleeding. Not much, but a lot for the size of the wound. Typing hurts. Maybe I should stop.

Bother. My father just came downstairs in his infamous skirt and his hair sticking up in horns and told me I had to get off the computer. But I told him I'd finish writing this, first. He agreed. I can hear him upstairs.

Wheee! StreetFest is tomorrow! And one of my bestest guy friends is sleeping over. So I can make his life a living hell. I feel so privalidged. Good thing my mother likes him, although she's only met him twice. Y'think you know someone after you've seen them on stage multiple times. Which she has. So there.

StreetFest...StreetFest...StreetFest...

G'night!

Before&After