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Apr. 1st, 2004 08:17 amI have court again today. This time it's personal.
Last time Mr. Timothy Aldridge, esq. said I didn't have to get dressed up. But as my dad said, "Even criminals need to look good."
Speaking of my dad, I'm not speaking to my dad. My dad is a loveless, cold-hearted, bastard of a father. I had a dream two nights ago that I had to speak to my dad. I had to ask his permission for something. That was a bad dream. As far as I'm concerned, I won't be speaking with my father for at least the next 6 months. At most my whole life.
The neighbor's across the street moved in at the beginning of summer 2003. I still haven't introduced myself, and I don't think my mom has either. I don't think they've even seen my father, which is understandable. The husband smokes cigarettes and the wife is Asian. They must make a great pair. It's really awkward walking out of my house and seeing them. I always wait for them to make the first attempt at a greeting, and I think that they're always waiting for me. They're only 50 ft. away, but if I were to walk over their to introduce myself, it would be like walking a football field. They'd be monitoring my every step, thinking to themselves, "look who decided to cast the first stone." Then when I finally made it there, I'd give one of my trademark strange introductions.
They replaced Millicent Amsterdam, who I think was the oldest member of this neighborhood. I don't know where she went, but I'd at least wave to her whenever I was outside. The Gold's don't really make an effort to acknowledge me, but I don't give a shit about them. The Carlin's next door are on and off, but they're just freaks altogether. Except for the mom looks like Sigourney Weaver. I used to hear the mom and dad shouting at each other from outside the house. And I also used to spy on their live-in babysitter. I saw her breasts one time. She was a butterface. The Tramantano's always give a wave. The father, Bob, is a real happy guy, real friendly. Everyone else in this neighborhood sucks dick.
Last time I went to court it precipitated, snow. This time it's rain. Let's hope there's no next time.
Last time Mr. Timothy Aldridge, esq. said I didn't have to get dressed up. But as my dad said, "Even criminals need to look good."
Speaking of my dad, I'm not speaking to my dad. My dad is a loveless, cold-hearted, bastard of a father. I had a dream two nights ago that I had to speak to my dad. I had to ask his permission for something. That was a bad dream. As far as I'm concerned, I won't be speaking with my father for at least the next 6 months. At most my whole life.
The neighbor's across the street moved in at the beginning of summer 2003. I still haven't introduced myself, and I don't think my mom has either. I don't think they've even seen my father, which is understandable. The husband smokes cigarettes and the wife is Asian. They must make a great pair. It's really awkward walking out of my house and seeing them. I always wait for them to make the first attempt at a greeting, and I think that they're always waiting for me. They're only 50 ft. away, but if I were to walk over their to introduce myself, it would be like walking a football field. They'd be monitoring my every step, thinking to themselves, "look who decided to cast the first stone." Then when I finally made it there, I'd give one of my trademark strange introductions.
They replaced Millicent Amsterdam, who I think was the oldest member of this neighborhood. I don't know where she went, but I'd at least wave to her whenever I was outside. The Gold's don't really make an effort to acknowledge me, but I don't give a shit about them. The Carlin's next door are on and off, but they're just freaks altogether. Except for the mom looks like Sigourney Weaver. I used to hear the mom and dad shouting at each other from outside the house. And I also used to spy on their live-in babysitter. I saw her breasts one time. She was a butterface. The Tramantano's always give a wave. The father, Bob, is a real happy guy, real friendly. Everyone else in this neighborhood sucks dick.
Last time I went to court it precipitated, snow. This time it's rain. Let's hope there's no next time.
