Dear cali boys,

i hate you all.
you're all shallow.
you're all liars.
you're all heroin addicts/cheaters/thiefs/stupid motherfuckers.
you're all disrespectful.
you all dont know what the fuck you want.
you all dont want a relationship.
and you all take advantage of my kindness/walk all over me
and you all make/have made me feel like shit.
FUCK YOU, CALI BOYS.

creeper.

so there is this construction worker that has been working on the house next door to mine, this week. there is a wall seperating my back yard from where he is working.
the other day, im sitting outside smoking a cigarette, doin' my thing, when he looks over the wall and asks me how my weekend was. ive never spoken to him before. i tell him it was fine. then he says " you were dressed to kill on friday" wtf.
how would he know that??...creeper.

then today, im doing the same, only this time, i had just woken up and my hair was all curly and crazy and i didnt have make up on. and he looks over the wall again and asks me if i was the same girl that was out there a few days ago, or if im her younger sister.
hahaha
i was like, noo, its me.

i guess i look like a completely different person when i dont do my hair/make up. scarier probably. haha

anyways, this man's a creeper and needs to stop creepin' over the wall!


the end.

singing "i got trouble" by christina aguilera.

ive always wanted to sing this song.
its not my best, but just wanted to do a quick one to see how it would turn out. :)