wednesday, 7 

wednesday, 7

Hell I don t know. I am tired. Just go see Fahrenheit 9/11. As always, I really don t care what you do this week, because I don t even know you, and unless you can get me into Brittney Spears wedding to complete my life, I m sure I don t want to meet you. Besides, it s time for me to go finish a letter to Dick Cheney. I have just two words to finish up my note. Mr. Cheney, I hate to use such bad language, but until you apologize to the children of America (and thereby make you the first person in the Bush administration to apologize for anything, well, fuck yourself. --T.S.
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