Well, I've decided to venture back into relative normalcy to announce something wonderful and emo. I went to Ottawa. Yeah. I did. Oh yeah. Ok. Actually, the only thing that was worthwhile was this feminist bookstore. It made me happy, and it was so emolicious that my heart could not bear but to pour tears of crimson regret and sadness and dobi.nu onto the floor of this wonderfully politically correct establishment. In other news, I fucking hate Maroon 5. Their emo-ness is so very emolicious that the emoliciousness of it surpasses the awkwardness and run-on-ness of this sentence which is very emo. They must warble about sadness and girlfriends and being gay (???) when really they should be crying about having wonderfully moussed hair that ressembles a bowl. Oh, I am now pouring tears of simili-crimson. I think they're making my extremely thick black mascara run! Oh no! I must clean my black thick-rimmed glasses so the world can see how emo I am!! Kit Tens of woe and loss Make me bleed a RAINbow of RE dd (&!3<3<3??? EXCLAMATION POINT emo***emo***emoxxXxxXxxXemo