I need some culture.

I would like to go to Europe today. Or perhaps Africa. I feel like indulging in the unfamiliar. I'm getting rather tired of the fact that the weather is muggy. It's Oregon. Since when is "humidity" part of the forecast? It shouldn't be. It doesn't help that my hair is very frizzy today, and I have really made no attempt to make myself look good. Not that I need too because I'm home alone for the time being. Had I made an effort to look especially delicious, I would have been annoyed at the wasted good-looking-ness.
Where did delicious come from?

I threw S. a suprise birthday party last night. Unfortunately he somehow knew about it. While we were all hiding behind the couch waiting for him to come through the front door, someone came in the house through a window and was hiding. After we had spent a good five minutes trying to figure out if it was S. or a psychotic killer, I took the sidedoor, went around the house, climbed through the window, and at last, found him hiding in the shower. So, obviously, I turned on the faucet. Sadly the shower part wasn't on, but just the bath part, so only his shoes got wet. After that we had strawberry short cake, and I recived a nice shot on the ass from the realistic looking air soft gun. I have a nice welt.

A. is coming over tonight to "babysit" me. It's not exactly babysitting, but more my mother not wanting me home alone all night. I'm not sure if she's more concerned about someone breaking in, or me having a party. Probably the latter.

I feel like a real blogger today for some reason. But now I'm going outside to smoke my racist cigarettes. So far I have been told two things that are making Marbs look more and more racist. But I haven't been able to get my usual Camel Wides lately because I can no longer be picky about what I smoke considering the continuously raising tax. Before we know it you'll have to pay twenty dollars for a pack.

My birthday's in seventeen days. I'm not as excited as I feel like I should be. Oh well.