Why does is always feel, even though in your heart you know it’s not true, that when someone doesn’t love you anymore, that they never really loved you in the first place?
I have observed lately that nasty, disgruntled, annoyed, angry, sarcastic, discontented and/or vituperative bloggers on Xanga tend to be more popular than the decent person who writes a decent blog. I guess that’s the equivalent of sensational or “bad” news winning out over “good” news in the general news media. And you’re a asshole with no life if you don’t want to agree with me.
Something good is happening! Something good is happening! No, I don’t know where at or to whom; I’m just psychic enough to know that it IS happening.
I was wondering if I could get into the World Record book as “the person most esoterically deserving of being here who will never get here”?
I was, after all, psychically-involved in the death of two Popes. I think that’s a record, though it’s hard to be sure.
Did someone just say “give me an A!” ?
Amreica’s like any lover: love her or lose her.
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