in case you might've thunk this diary had gotten a bit too crunk for its own good, let's get negative today.� let's dish out some major shit talk, man.

my official enemies list ("i don't like how this stuff tastes"):� beer... wine... weed.

my official greatest fears list ("this stuff really stomps on my mellow when i think of it"):� melancholy... antidepressants... getting fat.

ride the tiger.� or let the tiger ride you.� either/or.� it's up to you.  or maybe it's up to the tiger.

that is all.