|
| I have this overwhelming urge to play some stupid middle school game
where you list out three choices for everything in the world and then
someone scratches out every tenth one and it tells you every single
thing you would ever want to know about your future. I need one of
those and I need it to be accurate so I don't have to make any
decisions anymore.
| | |
| I didn't think I even remembered what xanga was, but I'm SO PISSED OFF
that I just have to rant. We were supposed to have Update magazine DONE
by LAST FRIDAY. TEN DAYS AGO. On that Friday, about half of the stories
had been turned in, and I was the ONLY person who had my stories done,
edited, and my layouts complete. THE ONLY ONE. Then Eileen, little miss
self-appointed editor-in-chief keeps sending out emails "You guys need
to get it together. We need to pick it up. You guys need to finish your
stories." SHE STILL HASN'T TURNED IN HER SECOND STORY. FUCKING BITCH!
And now we're a week and a half past due and they're still sending out
emails "We need to get this done tonight. Everyone come in" Everyone
HAS come in. Everyone has finished their layouts. Half of them suck
ass. And the "final design" that Jackie has saved on the server SUCKS.
It looks like shit. None of the headlines are consistent, some of the
stories take up one and a half pages with just a big white hole on the
rest, the pictures are either way too huge or barely visible, and
they're shitty pictures. The bylines and photo credits and captions
aren't consistent. The menu headings aren't how they're supposed to be.
Jackie misspelled "Renovations" on the FRONT COVER. Yeah, I fixed it
for her and she won't even notice. So I email them and tell them that
since there's so much left to do, I'd be glad to help with headline
writing and design. I love design. And I KNOW how to fix the really
shitty-looking pages. And they say "We don't need your help." FUCK YOU!
You DO need my help. Because you've had 3 weeks to put this together
and you're nowhere NEAR done. Idiots. And I'm willing to do the work
and I don't bitch about the extra hours, and then they tell me not to
help because they want it done their way. Their way is sloppy and late
and inconsistent. This is going to be the shittiest Update in the
school's history. And I KNOW they want things their way, but THE WAY is
actually something we all laid out and decided on AS A CLASS. I KNOW
what the specs are and I KNOW the plan. I'm not going to just do
everything how I want. I'm just trying to save your sorry asses. And I
don't want you fucktards in charge because I don't want my name
associated with a shitty shitty final product. If you would shut the
fuck up and let me fix what you've fucked up, I could make the god damn
thing look so much better. And I would spell fucking words right on the
FUCKING COVER. Why are you such bitches? I know why. It's because
you're getting ready to graduate and YOU want the credit for this
magazine. Well YOUR NAME will still be next to "Editor in Chief", so
why don't you shut the fuck up and let someone who has a god damn idea
what's going on help you? I'm so tired of you bitching at me that
things aren't done. I did THREE stories -- WITH LAYOUTS -- in the time
the rest of the class did one or NONE, EILEEN. And the only reason I
haven't copy edited the rest of the stories is because they HAVEN'T
BEEN GIVEN TO ME. If people don't write their god damn stories, the
copy editor can't copy edit them, idiots. It's not my fault stories
aren't in on time. I've turned in every single story I've gotten the
same day I've received them or the next day if I'm not at Kedzie that
day. I haven't fucked up ANYTHING on this magazine, and you don't want
my help. This shouldn't bother me so much. I should just say "Fine.
Less work for me." But I'm also counting on this for graduation and my
portfolio, you bitches. And I don't want to put in ALL THIS GOD DAMN
WORK AND THEN NOT BE ABLE TO PUT THE FUCKING THING IN MY PORTFOLIO
BECAUSE IT TURNED OUT A PIECE OF SHIT BECAUSE THE EDITORS DIDN'T KNOW
WHAT THEY WERE DOING. Fuck you both, you fucking bitches.
| | |
| Saturday, November 12, 2005: 76 degrees.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005: 36 degrees and snowing.
WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Supersleph
| | |
| Poetry
by Stephanie Gorges and Kyle Mythos Hinterweger
Green flesh,
Green hair,
SEAN CONNERY!!!
Orange pubes,
Black pubes,
Three hundred roses
on SEAN CONNERY's chest!!!
The horse on the mountain top,
People on a balcony,
SEAN CONNERY on a woman!!!
Green flesh,
Green stool,
SEAN CONNERY on many women!!!
Red fire,
Blue balconies,
SEAN CONNERY sleeps with whom he wants!!!
Green penis,
Red warts,
SEAN CONNERY slept with too many women.
| | |
| There is too much to do, Puck. I know you're the only one who reads this. How do I know? Because I'm psychic. And because you're the only one who ever writes to me. And because I only update once every three months. Yeah, so you'd better savor this, bub. SAVOR IT!
Steph | | |
|
