| 2 months til my birthday, where's my gifts. |
[26 Sep 2005|03:37am] |
Do you know how long it takes to get a goddamn Yahoo email address? Took me fuckin 45 minutes to get that shit set up and I'd be willing to bet I still fucked it up somehow. All to get this damn journal. Be thankful I just wasted 45 minutes of my life for this, bitches!
So whats this, I gotta write shit about myself now? Its damn near 4am, I've been drinking since 11, and I'm 'bout to bust open the goods of my heart and soul? Nah, fuck that.
This is what you get. I'm Trace. You can call me Trace. I'd prefer to hear you screamin it but if not I'll work with it. I am "personal assistant to Mr. Timberlake" which means he carts my ass around the world and gives me free booze while I make sure HIS sorry ass gets where it needs to be. Good deal? Nah, fuckin great deal! What else.. you wanna know where I was born? What I did when I was 12? When I last took a really good shit? No, didn't think so. All you really need to know is that I like to have a good time.
Hit me up, we'll shoot the shit. trace bones Some fucker told me that was a cool name to have one time. It was cool for about 10 minutes and I'm too damn lazy to change it.
Peace.
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