SHIT THAT MOTHERFUCKING SOUP WAS GOD DAMN TERRIFIC! AND THAT TITTY LICKING SALAD WAS FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC.

By the way, my browser's spell checker underlines titty and not motherfucking. Why is motherfucking even in its database of appropriately spelled words? I dunno. Go figure.

Doesn't correct dunno either.

So. Today I acquired $7 worth (that's two boxes for you non-Girl Scouts types [and I swear to god they were only like $2 a box when I sold them, which had to have been sometime near 1992-1993]) of THIN MINTS! If you are a thin mint addict like I am, then you already know how difficult it is not to eat both boxes all in one sitting. So far I have kept my thin mint consumption for the day down to six cookies since 2 PM. All hell is about to break loose, however, since I have just finished my dinner and my appetite is whet for ingestion of a cookie mass so huge it will cause my stomach to implode and create a black hole, thereby enabling me to eat an infinite number of thin mints. Too bad I only thought to buy two boxes.

Long, long ago, I was once a Girl Scout. I had an apron and a coloring book; I sold cookies (really my mom did, she just took them to work and people were all OVER that shit, fuck yeah) and I was in parades. Little did I know a parade would mean the end of my Girl Scout career.

You know those candies that are called Jolly Ranchers? They're rectangular in shape, hard as quartz, and fruit flavored.

I hit the troop leader's daughter in the eye with one in a particularly exuberant display of parade candy-chucking.

I think I might've told this story in my diary before, too. Either way, her mom and my mom got into a tiff about it and things were said and I ended up with no extracurriculars until I joined the band in middle school.

I forgot to mention this in my last entry: I pooped in every Disney park we went to except the Animal Kingdom. Yes, I am very proud of myself, thank you.