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An entry in which I talk about the wild life, wildlife, and vaginas. Woohoo, sex and violence! Here was my lovely plan: 1. do finances (i.e. put all receipts into Money to determine how much I've spent on gas and CDs recently) Here's what ended up happening: 1. stayed up very late playing the Sims So then I finally stopped playing the Sims a few hours ago and had to make some important phone calls (i.e. Mother's Day and sister calls) and so all the time I had allotted to writing my stupid murderous story - because I've given up on the finances part, it's not going to happen - was eaten up by those talky-talkies I'm related to, especially my mother. She talks a lot! It rained this afternoon, it was nice, I opened my window to listen to it, I went to shut my window because I got cold, which I did, but then to my absolute horror there was a psycho snail on my window - a psycho snail had climbed up the house and into my room and by shutting the window I had very nearly crushed or mooshed it! I quickly opened the window again, hoping that neither crushing nor mooshing had occurred; thankfully the snail appeared to be uncrushed and unmooshed, albeit still psycho. I tried to pick it up; its shell crumbled a bit. I tried to flick it off; it stuck to the ledge. I got a pencil to move it off with; it rolled over onto its psycho back and showed me its smooshy vaginal part. Snails look like vaginas! Then, with the lewd beast on its back, I flicked it off and it trickled down to the ground and it's now running free with the other psycho snails. I mean, I actually like snails, but I didn't know their shells were so fragile, and I didn't know they were really vaginas in shells. I try not to be so wimpy, but, I'm scared of worms and snakes and other icky things. I try to save all the worms on the sidewalk but it's hard because I don't like to touch them, I find a leaf or stick or something else to pick them up with. In junior high I had a baby snake. It was cute, I loved it, it was really cool. Its name was Snake, I saw it being born (live birth - it was a garter snake). But then one weekend I stayed at a friend's house and didn't put the lid on Snake's cage and when I got home there was a paw print in the sand and a single cat hair next to it. My baby snake was lying upside down on my bedroom floor (in a clearing; my room was very messy), head smooshed, deceased, murdered at the paws of my otherwise pacifist cat. Ever since then I've been scared of snakes. I sort of thought that the snake world was after me for not protecting my little snake. And now I can't write my horse story because this entry is too long.
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