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The problem with today's queers is they all refuse to think big. When's the last time you heard one say, "Fuck it, I think tonight I'm just going to go as Earth." Comments/Enlarge | See all


I wonder how many young men have perished trying to keep Ms. Tokyo Posh Pants ’09 happy? Comments/Enlarge | See all






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DEAR DIARY

Entry: August 29th, 1984




AUTHOR: LISA GABRIELE

DIARY ENTRY:
August 29th, 1984

It's weird, Chris is the first guy I can't wait to see. We've been right going out for four days and man I really really like this guy. Jeez I'm so happy my life is perfect. We kiss great together and sometimes there's a little charge like licking a battery that I get from his tongue. I love all my new friends too and we get along soooo great. Belle River is so not as bad as I thought it would be when we first moved here. I won't get a reputation here either because everyone is so cool. Especially Denise we really became close this past few weeks. Oh I also forgot to tell you that I started to smoke. I really don't want to but it's hard to quit but I promised a lot of people especially Chris that I'd quit the day school starts again and I'm gonna stick to it man. Well gotta go. We only have two more days of dishwashing and then one week of summer and then school so bye from the happiest girl in the whole world.

September 2000

I still smoke, on and off for twelve years now. And I have smoked four cigarettes during the time it took to select the diary entry, figure out how to update it then write it. I've tried to quit five times. They say that the average smoker makes six attempts before they're successful. I have tried the patch, the little beeper device, hypnotherapy and Zyban. Zyban made me feel like I was wearing a warm yarmulke on my head, which I found frightening. For my next attempt I think I'll try something really radical: I will quit cold turkey and place an enormous amount of pressure on my current boyfriend (non-smoker) to enforce the ban. If he's successful at throwing me pained glances when I reach for a friend's cigarette for a 'wittle dwag' and if he's vigilant in following me around at parties, arms folded, as I surreptitiously duck out for a 'wittle tweat' because I've been 'such a good wittle girl,' then cool, I'll live long enough to see our kids take their first steps. If he fails at making this addiction go away, then it's his fault and I should dump him.

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