Dear Dr. Mario

My saviour,
My agony uncle,
My therapist.

Dr Mario beams me his finest smile, and takes all my thoughts in and makes me feel better when I’m down. Just look at him heroically throwing that magic pill of happiness.

Jesus fucking christ this WordPress blog was hard to set up.
The look and layout of my personal/private blog isn’t even up to par with my standards, but it’ll do.

Who am I?

I’m your old school (dare I say a mentally old?) bitch, that can’t even work a damned blogging site. I may as well be my parents.
I love writing. I absolutely do. But technology is defs taking over, and I find that I can truly be private here on the internets. I write about (not too) personal shit.
Funny because nothing is REALLY private on the internet here, but I can conceal myself a lot better here than having all my thoughts in a book, laying around somewhere in my house.

I also use quite a bit of coarse language, it gives me great relief, and it’s a great way to express myself.
I’m also pessimist, but I force myself to be an optimist. I don’t enjoy being upset, yet I still dwell on the fact that shit’s going to be fucked, or it can be fucked.. But 8/10 it always turns out great. Awesome. Sweet and wonderful. It’s like the older I get, the more stressed I get.

I’m also a hooker, and this is my private and personal diary.