8am

I can't handle peple anymore he told me. Ive reached a new level of my depression, I am letting my mind eating me up from inside and out. Just lean to it I guess. My very homosexual buddy is coming over with a bottle, maybe he can smash it on my head. I tell him I can't cause tomorrow morning I am meeting my mums very young ginger electrian. 8am sharp. Workingclass men never been hotter. Everyday he drills holes and run cables along mothers kitchen walls, I wonder if he always gets harrassed by married woman who wish their husband was half the man he is. My homo buddy assures me that I always look good although I look like a washed out whore that eats avocado.