Sunday, September 19, 2004

things that are sex-imafied.

oh dear lord. the drunkenness that is now.

1. that chick in the chris isaak video wearing dude's underwear. that shit's hot.
2. noses. i dont know why.
3. boobs. that clearly needs no explanation. i am straight. but if i see my humble boobs in the mirror. oy. so totally hot.
4. when the chick in the chris isaak video rubs sand all over her excellent nubile body. hot.
5. when the chick in the chris isaak video sort of, kind of, teases chris isaak, but doesnt actually kiss him or fuck his brains out. ever. hot. i feel that millions of teenage boys discovered wanking whence they saw that video.
6. its my website and i shall say whats hot. and that is so goddamn hot.
7. did i get around to mentioning, that i am, in fact, obscenely inebriated? oy.
8. um. butts. butts are hot. when they are doing stuff that involves moving. which is just about a lot. but not when the farting or pooping happens. thats just gross. yeah.
9. happy. joy. confidence. i pulled them out of my ass...but they are also hot. its so outstanding when a dude can rock a hot pink bikini in a horrible drunken photo that may or may not be featured on the wall of the establishment he might work in. totally. fucking. hot.
10. uh. sorry dude.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

overheard.

dude1: 'the only people that go to the green leafe are english professors and fags.'
dude2: 'thats not true, english professors never hang out there.'

Saturday, September 11, 2004

bain dramaged.

'everyone's afraid of their own life, if you could be anything you wanted i bet you'd be disappointed. am i right?' ~isaac brock

what the hell do you do when you dont know what to do with yourself.

in the sense that you dont want to do what everyone else is doing, and therefore have no guide or map or obvious route to which you could emulate. i guess it would be so excellently easy for a person to just live like everyone around them does. with the job and the clothes and the kids and dogs. i dont understand why i dont want that. i wish i did want that. maybe if i got an office job, and got some dogs, and had some kids...maybe then i wouldnt notice how unfulfilled i was. but i so totally doubt it.

its not that i dont want to experience that part of life. but everything around me seems to be moving at this accelerated pace, and i find myself thinking that im in some kind of race that im losing, horribly. or that im a selfish awful person for not wanting to win.

im a static thing in this generational lifespan. and that makes no sense.

im not going anywhere, and not doing anything of consequence. im so afraid of falling into a rut and doing something i hate 5 days a week that im too afraid to do damn near anything.

i just want to see things. and travel. and not have to worry about money because i wont need it. i want to dick around all over this world until im sick of being rootless. and then i want to dick around some more just to make sure im completely done with the dicking around.

and then. then, it would be outstanding to have some dogs and some goats and litter of children. i wont turn into the bitter old asshole who's pissed cause she never saw tibet. but i dont want to be alone either.

so what now.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

totally not dead yet.

i realize the lack of posting might signify that i am, in fact, quite dead. but fortunately i am not an old woman in the possession many, many cats that could possibly be feasting on my ripe carcass by now. god thats gross. sorry dudes.

i dont know. ive been a little busy. just a little. and ive come to a realization that my shit was not good. my shit was in fact awful. my karmic shit was of the genre of evil high school and all the misery that goes along with suck-bitch teenage years and angst. which is pretty re-goddamn-diculous when you think about the fact that i am twenty-fucking-four. and i like to use the word fuck. a lot.

so. this is me right before i go talk to my drug dealer. (drug dealer=psychiatrist...not even a little different from the weed and coke man, possibly a little less educated).

i dont want to fuck with the status quo. i like to have a schedule. i like it when things work and you dont have to think about them. its like typing. i dont have to look at the keyboard, and my fingers just do what i tell them to, and pretty words appear on the screen.

but thats not working anymore. i shouldnt be hanging out in closets and crying because my house smells like wet paint and crack-head. i shouldnt be avoiding my friends because they know something's up. there shouldnt be anything up at all.

but i guess there is.

so. im trying something new. thanks to the dealer. and i might sleep all the time. and im not sure its working. but sleep is good. and i think i am good. and i think by the time im old enough to stop being such a pussy, this wont matter because there will be so many anti-pussifying drugs out there, that ill totally be a normal person.

so here's to not being a pussy. some day.

Saturday, September 04, 2004

computer fubar.

i am writing this at work on a computer that moves as fast as my dead grandmother. the reason being, my poor roomate's computer is sick and we dont know how for to fix it. so ive been ultra lazy about finding ways to make blog entries.