there's a whore in my blanket- dear diary

dear typing in the dark diary,

yeah, you guessed it. pretty much. that is what i am doing now. waiting for mcfuckingdonalds to open the breakfast side. i have fifty minutes. taking both dogs and we are eating in the parking lot. they don't know yet. then we are going to walmart. ima squeeze all i can out of the remaining last few hours of the safe day before it is time to lock down for the next forty-eight. it sucks living like this but someone has to do it. and i'll have plenty of chaperones for the excursion tonite when i have to work. the girls on my thursday shift are some mean bitches. oh fuck. they've already seen and chased that city employee all over the town. he is prolly wondering why the black girls are all over his ass. they all know him by his vehicle and plates and his general  appearance, and rosa said when she saw him close up i described him right down to the "t." but i dunno. but i am starving and feathers are flying out of my hair. i hate my blanket. it is almost time to switch back to the blanket i really love. the one i said i was gunna throw away and didn't. just cuz it has a few hundred holes in it doesn't mean it cant do its job at night- or in the day for that matter. fuck the dumb shit.