Guess Why Jenny's Crying, (don't worry, her titties are fine)

I don't know if I told you guys this but I had an operation where I got my brain taken out of my head.

They put poop and cloth in there instead. That means that today I have done the following:

Left my apartment, (first huge mistake), because the buzzer buzzed and I thought, "oh yes! a package! maybe it's somebody dancing! maybe it's me!I love jenny!"

But then, since I was wearing no shoes, a pair of tattered sweatpants with, seriously, a hole in the crotch, and my boobs untamed in my "sporty tank", I decided that I should give it my all and lock myself out of my house. Did you know that it's winter outside and that winter is bitter cold, like the heart of Eva Braun? I did when, in bare feet, i ran crying across the sidewalk, (yes, across the sidewalk....2 steps) to stand next to a pile of dog poop and bang on teh window of an unmarked van.

"I'm locked out of my apartment!" I screamed, as the man ignored me for TWENTY MINUTES, while promising that he would be off of his phone soon. I stood there for TWENTY MINUTES, staring at the poop next to my bare feet and starting to cry. Then I left two voicemails and went back to huddle in my shitty "foyer". When my rescue came I was autistic and crying. My feet were white and my asshole was leeking blood. My mouth was dripping milk and my stomach had exploded all over my thighs, which were made of two thin, glass vases.

I looked a mess!!!

I'm back inside now. I had some eggs and I've cleaned up a bit. The moral of this story is that I scream when I burp, and my boyfriend screams when he barfs. Remember that, even if I'm not able to write any more today because my brain is made of poops and rags, I love you so very much.

I love you Jenny.
Love,
Jenny