So, yeah.

Our competition didn't go as we hoped. The judge was really critical. He even took points off 'cause the wind knocked the drum set's base drum off the cart. I was able to help Freda, but the fucking judge was all, "Hey, you might wanna check your stuff before you send them out."

I know Freda is going to say something, blaming the people who set it up.

I swear, if he dares to say one thing about it, I will blow up in his face. I set the set up, and it was fine until the WIND came along. It was really windy. I mean, REALLY.

Not only that, but the rest of my section is just as fed up with the battery. The last time I checked, they were supposed to be helping us set up and bring things out. Since they were told, they did it once. That one time they did it was when they were told. Oh, and LORD FORBID we ask them for help.

Hogan was saying on how she doesn't want to be in Marching Band because of it. Because of the shit that goes on. Well, if she and the rest of them took time to commit their music to memory instead of fucking around, if she bothered to do her job as Captain and reminded her self that she has a role to fill, if stoped blaming other things for her failures, then she'd probably be very happy with the band.

I hope she leaves. Then, April will go for Captain and I will go for Pit Lt..

Whatever.

Today was okay. I have Mock Trial tomorrow, which should be fun. Then, after that, I have Marching band. If Freda dares to say a word, I swear.....

Whatever. They're dweebs.

heehee

My Uncle, you know, the fat and mean one that I don't like very much. I talked about him in an entry before (I am Mrs. Bond -- or something like that).

Anyways, that stupid fuck has found a way out of his apartment. Not only that, he found a way to save up his money.

That stupid IDIOT wants to become homeless. Most people try to avoid that, but not him. He's a retard. He thinks this will help. He also said that he thought this through. *That is not a powerful statement.*

You wanna know how I know this?

He told me.

He also told me to keep it between him and me.

Yeah, right. I didn't even hang up with him and I had my cell in my hands, waiting to call my mom.

I have a feeling that one of two things will come out of this. That stupid fuck is going to live with us, or my mom is going to have him committed. I'm not sure what. She didn't give him the inner key for a reason, you know. He once took some of my mom's PRICELESS silverware, handed down through the family, and sold it for a hundred bucks.

If he does, I am bringing everything I need with me and I'M going to live outside. Fuck that! All I need is my laptop and my blanket, and I'll LIVE!