I opened up the tub of butter I have and it was printed on the wrapper "It's better wobbly!"


Then I read the small print and it was referring to the curvature of bread.

Combi

Doctor Turner keeps referencing documentaries and Sammie and I cannot help ourselves but laugh. Saying that, neither can Holly next to use who giggles when the word "sex" is mentioned. Oh, and shame on us: We've scarred Paula with our talkings of people. We're doing 1984, which isn't as bad as I had first suspected.

Our artwork is being assessed sometime this week, and I've practically done everything. Still need an object for my still life, which isn't the most exciting of tasks. I thought a mask, but my mum's are all freaky. There is a nice one, but I don't want to take it anyway. So I just end up spending time browsing flickr and Veer for an idea.
Okay, pomegranates, passion fruit and wine it is. :]

These are really the only two interesting subjects I have, tbh. That's why they get the most reports.

"Photographing a cake can be art" —Irving Penn

The Rules of Attraction

Today, I bought underwear >.> That's all. On the other hand, I found some text in The Rules of Attraction (God, I'm obsessed, but it's so good <.<) written in French. So I decided to type it all out (that took ages; tabbing back and fro between World Lingo do get the correct marks) and translate. The result was quite humorous:

I could not prevent me from approaching me you with evening. I drank too much tequila and I perhaps smoked too much of pot but that does not want to say that I do not love you. However after it sayhaving said you, I walked until the end of the world and I have vomit. Yesterday we separated with beba, my girl friend. You, you were one of the reasons for that (then Beba does not know that I wish you) but not only. It is that for a long time that I feel allured by you. I am not insane, but you interests me and I took some photographs of you whom I made when you did not look at. I cannot believe that you did not notice me. If you had come with me yesterday evening, I would have returned to you happy. I could have returned to you happier than this type with which you left yesterday evening. By putting the things at worse I could always go back to Paris and live with my father. In any event, America is shitting. And me making you love in the town of my father Cannes has. And to leave my job of writer has Camden Courier. perhaps did you see my articles? How to prevent the positive Herpes and effects of the extase. You does not obsess me. I could have any girl whom I want here (and I passed there near), but your legs are perfect, better than all those of the others dilles and your hair is so fair and soft, better still of all and your figure is perfect it-also. I not if you had an operation of nose but your nose is perfect. Your features are really perfect. I perhaps will test still * once. But do not leave next the fois*. remember that I could return heuruse very to you. I can kiss well and I have the American Express Chart of platinum. I suppose that you have it too. your legs are splendid, and better than those of any other girl. Of which color are your eyes? the photographs which I took are all in black and white. I would like to follow the same courses that you, but He do photograph and you… what? Beautiful-art? You are sexy. If I knew that somebody got excited of you like me, and you, you tested the same feeling towards him, I would leave. I would return at home. No doubt.

Oh my

They're called fun-size for a reason.

Today my mum made me drive her to drop of cookies for my brother's bake sale to pay for a camping trip, or whatever. And right there, across the street, was this homeless man. And I'm thinking, why aren't we baking cookies to raise money to buy this guy a home instead of some stupid camping trip, which will just be sad anyway.

I mean, I never go on trips and I don't even want to, but, like, I know you're going to say that the seventh grade science camp was a camp but it wasn't outdoors, so it doesn't even count.

When I got home, I burned the word "camping" in Scrabble tiles and then I wrote a poem entitled "23 Points of Sorrow", and then I burned that, too. And then the smoke alarm went off; I am the smoke alarm: People walk by me and never check my batteries, and when I scream everyone just runs away.

Chunk II

PENANCE:

Everything. OK! I'll talk! In third grade, I cheated on my history exam. In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max's toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play. In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog... When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out... But the worst thing I ever done - I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, t-t-then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa - and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.