You sissy little sheep. Friday the 13th is no more unlucky a day than Christmas or East—-ow, fuck. Paper cut! I don't know how I got a paper cut typing, but regardless, Friday the 13th is just as unlucky as every other day. My herpes would have flared up before my date even if it was Wednesday the 12th. It just happens when I get nervous. Hold on, phone. Hi Mom! What? No. I am NOT adopted. Funny joke. No, seriously. You're kidding, right? No? Shut your lying whore mouth! I will not watch my language. You're not my mother apparently. Fuck yourself.

Like I was saying, totally not an unlucky day. Of course my sister beat all my Guitar Hero scores today. She's been practicing forever while I'm at school. She's got small, girl fingers and she's been playing piano for 12 years. She's just lucky. Bitch isn't even my sister so I really don't care. Lots of strangers are better than me at Guitar Hero.

But, I digress. Sure, last Friday the 13th my dad, sorry, my ADOPTED dad got struck by lightning. But it's his fault for being on the roof holding onto the satellite dish in the first place. It's not my fault Dish Network sucks and I wanted to watch on Demand. I really doubt a "black cat" walked past him when he walked under that ladder to get on the roof. That's just silly , like Friday the 13th. Ow, shit. Fucking computer shocked me. That paper cut seems a little deeper than I thought at first. I feel woozy. Fuck Friday the 13th and fuck Jason Voorhees by association. I'm going downstairs to get a band-aid, which reminds me, I better fix that loose rail——————-………….