tonight was one of those nights that i wish i was a character in chuck palahniuk’s “lullaby”. i wish there really was a poem i could resite in my head that would kill people at will. because i would kill every single fucker who plays any form of baccarat. as soon as they walked in, they’d drop dead. they’d fall down dead in packs. and everyone would think, weird, i wonder why all these people are just dropping dead. and no one would ever know. until maybe people realized we had no bacc players anymore. that might set off flags. maybe i’d have to go to their restaurants and nail shops to do it. i’d only have to kill the ones that i don’t know where they work at the casino. and i’m not talking asians here. i’m talking asian, white, black, purple, australian, EVERYONE. kill all those fucking pieces of shit.

or i wish i was a witch and had spells where i could do horrible things to all of them. and make sure they were in a living hell. with no money to gamble with. i dunno, herpes or something. flesh eating bacteria.

someone once asked me if i rip my cuticles apart because i want to hurt myself. you know, instead of cutting, or punching myself in the face. and i don’t. i seriously honestly don’t. i can remember exactly when the habit started. but there is a certain amount of satisfaction when i can rip a chunk of skin off that’s been really bothering me. and sometimes it’s enough of a satisfaction that i stop doing it for a while. and i know i do it when i’m upset which explains why 3 of my fingers are bleeding right now.

i need a drink. or 12. oh wait, i can’t drink more than 3 drinks without ending up in the ER.