My eyes, my eyes, my eyes are on fire. We don't need no water let the motherfuckers burn.

Maybe when Kenny takes his new bride home to Tennessee to meet his mama, she'll make her eat some biscuits and gravy. She could use it.

---

Tonight I made a colassal retard move, even by my standards.

I cook for myself every day. While I am no gourmet, I know what I am doing in the kitchen, and I know how spices and peppers work. I was making a pot of pinto beans. I chopped a white onion, a head of garlic, and three jalapeno peppers.

I like my food hot. Sometimes so hot that my eyes water and I feel like if I take one more bite, flames may shoot out my ass. I love spicy food, so when I cook, I use a lot of heat.

Well, I chopped up the jalapenos, threw all my ingredients in the crock pot, and walked away.

I came in to check my email, and took my glasses off to rub my eyes (something I do regularly at the end of the day - I don't know why, it's a habit I've had since I was a kid). Well, guess what my dumb ass didn't do after I chopped the jalapenos? Wash my fucking hands.

So, after a couple seconds of vigorous eye rubbing, they started burning. Burning badly. So badly, that I started crying, which made it worse. I ran into the bathroom, washed my hands and started flushing my eyes over and over and over, hoping to make it feel better, only to make it worse. It sucked. My eyes are still swollen, still burning, still red.

I feel like a total ass.

Well, more than usual, anyway.

---

Dear Jack Johnson,

Want to be my boyfriend?

Ok, I realize that you're married. But if you ditched your wife for me, you wouldn't be sorry.

Seriously. I don't want to brag, but I know things. Things you've only read about in books.

Call me.

<3,
andria

---

Thank god it's Friday.

I have been enjoying blissful Celestia-free time, and I am sad that it's coming to an end.

I have thought about doing an entry that tells the story of my friendship with her, and how she fucked it up, because it occurs to me that as you people read the way I talk about her, and the things I do to her, that I must look like a real asshole.

While I admit I'm an asshole, in this particular case, she deserves every bit of it.

It's pretty long, though, so I would have to do it in parts, and I really don't think anyone gives a shit anyway.

---

I have no idea what I am going to do this weekend. My friend's sister is visiting from Ireland, and I am sure some sort of alcohol-induced shenanigans will occur. The last time she was here, she talked a bunch of Irish guys into taking their clothes off and singing happy birthday.

Scott, if you start driving now, you could be here before the weekend is up. Hehe.

I would be perfectly happy to hang out at Kay's, have some drinks and bbq. Thank god bbq weather is here.

Although, I must admit I would be really happy if a certain someone was around this weekend. We'll see.