Dark

Cockroaches in the brain..

I had three or four dreams last night that made me wake up thanking fuck they were only that. In the first, one of my ex’s gives birth to this baby of mine last night but doesn’t want it and minutes after squeezing it out the baby is somehow clean: she tells me to take […]

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The site is saved and moved to another premium server! 🙃

The site has been saved from extinction and all posts imported over. Not only do they host completely free, I can start paying for the premium service anytime I like, which will probably be pretty soon ’cause I’ve been at this too long to settle for some shitty free site.

Fuckin…

Mm I do very little this month, so clearly the ‘show’ hasn’t gone on yet though I do start making myself doodle a pretty drawing or two, still managing to find time to send abusive texts to my uh, ex-ex girlfriend. Don’t know how I manage to fit it all in..

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Outing #51: Winter is here..

I have my first home-cooked meal in six months, have to hand Rosa’s key back to her because of a few old bitches in the church itself and whatever else.

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Outing #44: I’ve got to leave town NOW..

It’s 6:30am and I’m sick of every fuckhead in town staring at me. I’ve gotta go before they all get up so I don’t have to put-up with another day faking it surrounded by the general public: pretending I’m having just as good a time as they are – it’s bullshit.

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Broadspectrum lost! ..fast!

I give the site’s URL out to people who look glued to their phones, make my employers my bitches and subsequently get paid within a day, on a Saturday, then retract my resignation from work.

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I’ve given two weeks notice.

That’s right: the women’s gone, the fucking cabin’s been sold out from under me by the landlords and now that bitch of a supervisor won’t let me shower at the TAFE so fuck the job too.

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(UPDATED) Haven’t been to work in 2 days.

Things are brought to a head in the most dramatic way I could come up with, because $20/hour is not enough to have to listen to toxicity ooze out an arsehole for almost 4 hours each morning.

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To you who promised all…

The last I’ve got to say about the woman who delivered none of what she promised and wasted well over a year of my life. There’s bad language, yes indeed.

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Portrait of an ex

This could’ve been a pretty striking painting – had I not left it in some random woman’s house in Adelaide – but it’s gone now and I don’t give a shit about her anymore.

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