07/01/2003 - 11:37 p.m. | heavy altruism

An additional note: I always knew I'd be killed by something at the factory, but I assumed it would be one of the machines. One. Fucking Death Box will be the end of me. I tried to get the last of some wire out of the bottom of it, and it got all these long splinters caught under my nails. It was sort of cool leaving bloody fingerprints as my mark on tomato pens, but it doesn't feel too nice either. Then, when I finally emptied the box and tried to move, got a nail in my hand. Darn it! So, if I go missing, check the box. I drink ginger ale at night. Because of the masochism.