my least favorite libra. . .

Tonight at work this blond-haired dead ringer for Cory Rodelius came in and disturbed me. This normally isn't that strange, although seeing 6'2 light blond haired men seems to be a real rarity these days, but considering the fact that TODAY IS HIS BIRTHDAY. . . I am in a real state of puckery discomfort.

If I could see him now I would really like to say a few things, that is if I could control myself from vomiting just from the site of him.
1. Hey, remember when you tried to jump out of the explorer on the road to St. Scholastica WHILE IT WAS MOVING?!?!?! And then walked from there all the way up to LAKESIDE in October? Fucking Psycho.

2. Remember when you whipped the screwdriver (drink with vodka and orange juice NOT the tool) onto Lois's carpet in anger when you found out I (gasp) went to Willmar with Alisha and didn't tell you? Fucking asshole psycho.

3. Remember your crazier than a shithouse rat antics when I finally had the sense to break up with you? Fabricating car accidents? Calling the front desk at St. Scholastica about 30 times in one night? Godammned fucking asshole psycho. Thank god you're not a part of my life.

FORGIVE AND FORGET!!!!
peace-out.