The Love of Boy and Myself

Boy

Travis didn't win. He didn't win and that means that life is retarded, incase you didn't know. Also, if you don't know what I'm talking about, then you missed the best show ever, So You Think You Can Dance. It gets you pumped and then you THINK you know who's going to win, but then the show crushes your dreams and kills your firstborn. I'm so angry, I think I just developed eight ulcers and a spider in my belly.

Well, time for season three.

Myself

Carmen was talking to me today about how she loves me blog and all this jazz, and I was so happy. I love talking about myself and how great I am. Conceded? Sure. Wouldn't you be if you were me? Why am I asking? Of course you would be.

I'm deciding what stuff to take on my journey out east and what to toss away and it's so hard. I want to bring stuff that shows who I am and what I find important, but I find nearly all of my possessions important. *sigh* It's so hard being me!

Boy and Myself

I want a Travis. I want a hot boy. You can send me one now. I won't be offended.

Seriously though, if I don't find a boy in St. John's in the first month, I'll jump off the side of the island. ..which is into the ocean. The Atlantic Ocean. Water.

--Jam.