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2004-05-19 - 7:07 a.m.

C R A P.

I think I may need to see a filthy dirty porn or a violent horror flick or something to get that bloody happy smiley pretty innocent Peter bloody glint in the eye Pan film out of my head. AAARGH. So much niceness. Oh yes, I was guilty of a tear in my eye when the kids came home, who wouldn't be after an hour and a half of HAPPY THOUGHTS. I deliberatly listened to KORN on my IPOD this morning to try and get fairy dust out of my head. I thought the best bit was when the boat (ship, sorry, ship) flew up into the sky with all the fairy dust trailing off it like... well, like fairy dust probably.

Stayed up ridiculously late watching DVDS last night. Ridiculously late due to the awesome power of speech and listenability of my delicious who was glued to a telephone for most of the evening. I wandered the halls of our house aimlessly after whatching the special features, listening to her delicate and soft voice echoing around the house. For HOURS. Did I say how long it was....

Perhaps thats why I was so Peter bloody perfect teeth and bleached hair Panned out this morning. (Panned out?) I wasn't a fan of "special features" till I realised how long it takes to get my Delicious in the "viewing room"

Oh its haunting me. Wendy, Paul and John and the lost boys. AAARGH. I could not help but think the most depraved thoughts about Wendy and how she almost definately "wanted it" almost all the way through. the SLUT. "I tell stories" WHAT EVER... HO BAG.

(efffects Primus - Tommy the cat lyric "SHE KNEW WHAT SHE WANTED!")

oooh, I may be getting over it. Thank you dear diary for curing me of my Peter bloody I'll give you happy bloody thoughts up your arse bloody Pan bollocks.

I have been lucky enough to be deemed responsible enough to organise two lesbian babes "doin it and doin it and doin it right" for 10 guys in a private room in a casino this weekend. It's such a hard life. I hate bachelor parties, the babes, the the gambling, the drugs. I never get a break in this life. I would rather be pulling out my roots. Honestly.

The roots of my defunked hedge in my garden. It's a lovely well established hedge, or was last week till I set to it with my "aggressive" toothed saw. It's just a tangled stub now. Awaiting said pulling. I hate having to brutally and violently destroy nature but the thing is extending it's roots into my basement and I just cannot accomodate that.

anyway. I shall now go to google - images, pull up a picture of that Carefree Peter bloody stick a fucking pencil in his eye if he sprinkles and fairydust my way Pan and photoshop him with my immense and all powerful skills to look like a toothless old croney with junkie scars, a black eye and perhaps a weeping stump for an arm. I will give his arm to hook. Nobody loves him do they. Damn it, I thought I was over this.

p

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Wane - Wax

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