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| DIIIIIEEEEE |
Let me tell you how creepy I felt when my dad came into my room and asked what I was doing and I told him I was constructing a voodoo doll out of a ripped t-shirt and crumpled up tissues. What was almost weirder, was that he didn't seem surprised whatsoever, I guess he's as used to this project as I am. So yeah, I cut up an old shirt of mine and stuffed it full of ripped up tissues and stapled that bad boy together and made my very own voodoo doll. I tried to think of a person that I wanted this doll to represent so I wouldn't just be taking a stab in the dark, but I could think of anybody that I hate (or at least enough to post them on this entry). So I decided to designate this particular doll towards something I hate far more than any person; small talk. I hate that stuff, and if you have read some of these previous posts you probably already know that. I spent a solid five minutes torturing my small talk doll until I felt too weirded (is it weird that I liked it?) out by the whole situation and went to bed.
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