I don't like it out here. It's 86% humidity. Think reptile habitat at the zoo. George is painful to be pleasant towards. I don't think I can take much more of this. He's so mean to me that it's not even funny. And he's so fat he can't even walk around the city without whining and complaining and sitting on every bench in sight. I'm going to go insane.
I'm really sick today, too. My neck and head feel like they're stuck in a vice. And if I look to the side, my eyes ache like they're gonna drop out of my head. I wanna come home, where it's cold and the air is dry and my friends are having fun. At least I've got postcards to mail.

Listened to Brad Paisley in the car. His songs make me laugh. George couldn't stand them, but I love 'em. Oh well. I just want to come home! I'm such a whiner, but I can't help it. I'm sick and I miss my bitches. It's really 1:07 PM but the time zone probably says the post is from 3 hours earlier. It's all a lie.

Whaaaaaaaaaa!

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