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You ever have one of those headaches that doesn't as much hurt as it just plain disorients? Combine that with repeated trips to the bathroom to expunge thyself from either end and you can experience what I have. Real fun.

I walked out of the fine arts building after the haunted theater meeting and was met with a rather heartfelt "You look like ass" from Adam. I don't doubt that in the least. I feel like ass, too. I haven't shaved for a few days, my shirt was untucked and partially unbuttoned, my hair was every which way, and I had specks of black face paint still on. It honestly looks like life took me out back and made me its bitch. Not pleasant.

Haunted Theater looks like it'll be interesting to do. :)

You know, I know that when I write in my diary, people are going to have thoughts. Some of them are going to express such things. Don't. My diary isn't a plea for help. It's not where I put important information for the masses. It's a diary. Meaning, I write my thoughts, feelings, and things I've done. This isn't for you, this is for me. If you happen to disagree with something I've written, go ahead and disagree with it. Don't mention it to me. If you agree, go ahead and agree. Don't mention it to me. If you think what I write is pure bullshit, then whoop-de-freakin'-do. Keep your fucking thoughts to yourself and don't challenge whether or not what I write is truth. It fucking offends me. If this happens again, I'm going to do one of two things. Password this and give the word to those who behave themselves, or just scrap it and put it on paper. I know some people I don't even know enjoy my writing, and I'm sure they would be quite peeved if they were cut off due to the bad manners of an individual.

Yeah, maybe that last paragraph should've just been emailed to the offender, but stuff like that's been happening all along. I don't like it.

Slainte

John-Boy