| 001. September 3rd, 1997 |
[03 Jul 2008|04:54pm] |
Another year, another hell, another waste of utter time when I could be doing far more important things. “Like what?!” I hear you cry. Like practising for my life of fame and celebrity, what else? Did I hear a scoff? Did I? Because you’ll be kicking yourselves when I’m a household name. You know you will. You might as well all just ask for my autograph now. I mean, I know I’m a very busy person, but I do care about my fans. What’s that? You say you’re not a fan? Like hell you’re not. Just you wait, my friend. Just you wait.
What about Izzy Rock for my stage name? Or is that too much like Iggy Pop? Or what about T-Bone Craven? Or maybe just T-Bone? Or Rex Rock? Or Mad Rock? There are so many options. But considering that I’ve 2 more years left of wasting away in this hellhole, I suppose I have the time to mull it over.
Days left until the school year ends: 288!
(More or less. Don’t fault me if that’s incorrect, I’m not good with numbers.)
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