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Urban Cadence

D�j� Vu. D�j� Vu.

Wednesday, Apr. 28, 2004 @ 11:21 p.m.

So French Fitch and I caught this documentary on HBO called "A boy named Sue". It was kinda weird. It's a documentary-movie about a lesbian who went for a sex change and started living as a man. Usually, when you have shows about sex change, it's more about guys becoming girls... so I guess that's why this was a little weird to me.

The strangest thing was, after this person's sex change to a man, he became attracted to guys. So... she was lesbian, and after the sex change, he's gay. Doesn't that make her essentially straight? All that money into the surgery was kinda wasted, wasn't it? Hmm.

Anyway, I've been getting up from the wrong side of the bed these past few days. I absolutely HATE this hot weather, and I've been feeling dreadfully tired everyday. The heat just makes me into this retarded thing. I tend to talk slow, think slow, and ramble on about dumb things. Which I already do anyway hot weather or not, but I do it even more. (Hard to believe eh?) And I tend to go off on tangents really easily. The heat just makes my mind so duh. Ugh. And it makes me repeat things a lot, for some reason. And it makes me repeat things a lot, for some reason.

It's another e-a-r-l-y morning for me tomorrow, and I just know that I'm gonna be late for my first class tomorrow. Ah well... less time in that class equals less vexation from the Club Girls. I swear, they're getting progressively annoying everyday. And oh, they cheat among each other during the exams. Big time. And I have no idea how they do it. See, the professor assigns seats to us randomly before each exam, but somehow or other, those bitches ALWAYS end up in the vicinity of each other. All 6 of them. You'd think if they end up in that distribution once, it's just coincidental. But no, it's been 3 exams already, and it's never failed. Whatever system they've got going on, it's absolute genius. And if it's just pure luck, then I'd like to see what happens if they go to Vegas.

They'd win, I'd observe them from a distance, and then I'd rob them. Hahaha. And distracting them would be easy, all I'd have to do is tell them that their mascara is running. They'd do their bird-brained bimbo screeching and panicking, and I'd just casually stroll off with the money. Sweet.

And then I'd buy myself a 60-inch plasma screen TV and watch even more reality shows. Yeah, sounds like a plan. Muahahaha.

Sorry about going off on that tangent. Blame the heat. It just makes my mind so duh. Ugh. And it makes me repeat things a lot, for some reason.

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