Retarded stars will make you want to come. Yes, obey the stars. Come, damn you. I'VE DECIDED TO LET ALL OF YOU COME TO MY DAMN OPEN HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!! I hope the exclamation marks have helped get all of you pumped to go. Of course, this only applies to people I actually know. No internet stalkers, no bitter arch enemies, and no male strippers. Not even the ones that come dressed up as cops and then surprise you by ripping off their pants and handcuffing you. Female cops, however, are welcome only if they are strippers and not there to arrest me for dressing up like a cop and stripping for myself in front of a large mirror. If I include a picture of a graduation hat thingy then you're all more likely to come. Here's a picture of some biracial Siamese twins with diplomas. While you ponder why I bothered to put up this random picture, go to my damn open house! WHERE: My house WHEN: Sunday, June 30. Mark your damn calendar. TIME: 1-??? (I hope you're all intrigued by the question marks. This could go until forever, which is pretty long.) Have any questions? That's nice. For directions to my house, call me. If you do not have my phone number, write me an email or annoy me online. My screen name is jackasskid. If I promised you a senior picture and you did not receive one, this is your chance to pick it up. Do it now or forget all of the memories we so lovingly forged together, you cold-hearted son of a bitch. Or, if you're a woman, you're a daughter of a bitch. Either way, one of your parents is suddenly a bitch if you don't pick up a picture of me trying to seduce you with nothing more than a smile and an awkward pose. Consider yourself invited to my damn open house if I have ever talked to you without saying, "Okay, I have to go over here now," and then slowly walking away from you. And I'm not kidding. I seriously have done that with people I hate talking to. So don't be shy, you bastards. Come on over, pretend you like me, eat some food, and then leave. If you don't show up I'll assume you hate me and then firebomb your house. That comment I made about firebombing your house was not a threat. This is a threat. Alright, everyone, be sure to stop by so I can tell you all how much I give a shit about you. I honestly hope that people come because despite all of my supposed teenage anger, I really don't hate everyone that much. Drive to my house, say hello, wish me well in the future, and in return I'll give you some pizza and lukewarm Coca-Cola. If you don't show up, I can always burn your house down. So take your pick. I can serve you a can of Coke at my house or a Molotov cocktail at yours. Make the right decision. Back to the Me Page