posing as a police officer ain't going to work man

dear leaning up diary,

i pretty much knew leaning into it that how it was gunna make me feel. i saw those big brown eyeballs and i knew where it was going- better where it would end up- and i was right. sweaty on the bed. the little fat girl at the arab store buying lottery tickets with the two boys and the puppy in her car looked horny, i woulda offered her a bath in my bathtub- but i dont know if she would have fit. ima pull an all nighter tonight- rosa and i are gunna work the streets. no reason to stawk, no reason not to- just less fun when the van is gone. i may check in later- if we take a brake- i mean a break even. or if we break even.

things to do in the tub

dear getting wet and drying off diary,

stepping into the filling tub and setting my flatass down for the first moment when my body is dry and cold and sinking back into the greatness of the clean water makes me lose my breath every time- cept it is exciting- not scary. making my body rise and lower by filling my lungs with air- still amazes me the same way it did when i was a child and i think about floating in the ocean sometimes. i know the ocean wouldn't give me the same pleasure- because- well- it just wouldn't. my bathtub is so clean and it holds me like a hand. i lean my head on the back of the tub and wonder how it is i never fall asleep there, but i never do. not yet anyways. i cant read in the tub either. the most i can do is watch tv and play xbox, or text, but the best thing i do in the bathtub is nothing. i tried eating a steak dinner in there- i didn't enjoy that much at all. i did like the pudding i had once. i'll tell you what i really like to do in the bathtub, i like to look at my toes with bubbles on them. my toes are sexy.

stinking up the bed

dear seeing things clearly diary,

becky farted while we were sleeping and i thought i was cooking a roast. i knew i wasn't cooking a roast, but it sure smelled like it until she farted again and then i knew it wasn't a roast. she doesnt fart very often and had i have not actually heard the second blast- i would have most definitely blamed it on someone else- hell- i'd even taken credit before i would have pinned that on her- but she done it. she is old enough to start farting i suppose. the grump farted from the day we brought him home, but becky is a girl and she has more manners. she even gets down off the bed to itch. the grump is at my feet right now looking at me like i ate the last morsel of dog food. i don't even like the taste of their food that much. i have tried it- but it's not that tasty. the grump gets very angry when you ask him for a bite or a drink or anything- even when he doesn't have anything in front of him. he is such an ass. i asked him if i could borrow a dollar the other day and he got pissed off and showed me his teeth. i try not to talk to him. becky would gladly give you the fur off her back. that's why she and i share a blanket. 

fake doctor notes in wisconsin

dear it is a red day diary,

now my favorite color is red. by far. all time. and not just any color of red either. that blood red- deep yummy red. if it looks orange- at all- i hate it. pink sucks too- i hate pink. i mean pink is ok, i just don't like it. red is the color i am in love with. it is the color of life. i love it when my nails are red. they are so long again. i've been on a milk kick again tho. i haven't had a shower in over four months and i can really tell a big difference in my skin. it is so much softer and the salts really do somehow calm me. i tried to buy a pair of red boots but they didn't make them this year- i wrote UGGS and told them to make red ones for next year. nobody ever hardly listens to me. but i would buy red boots. i would wear them too.

now and then

dear missing out diary,

there are things i can live with and things i can't and i would hate to have to live without my piece of the hollywood walk of fame. it is one of my favorite things that i posses. my favorite souvenir by far. whenever i do a show, i know you guys are going to think i have lost my mind when i tell you this, but i always have that little piece of hollywood walk of fame in my left pocket of my true religion jeans when i am on stage. it reminds me of the beginning and where i am working towards. and when i get scared or nervous- i reach into my pocket and grab it. i don't have that little bottle you see anymore- it broke- long after the contents were consumed- as far as the metal pipe used for human consumption- i gave that away. but my piece of history- i still have- and hopefully will always have.

no more pickles for the goat

dear i cant wait to plant the garden diary,

i am going to make pickles all summer long. i am going to pickle green beans this year because rosa told me her mom used to pickle those JUST like sweet pickles and they are good she claims- ima try it. ima make peach salsa. ima make catsup. please tomato Gods- make the tomatoes turn out good this year. the peaches will be ready in august- i am already saying my prayers for them. they were awful good this last year but in 2009 they weren't so good. the tomatoes didn't do so well in the garden last year- but mine were great in the yard. i am going to can the shit out of the pickles. we just love those.

we have a perfect system here

dear second nap of the day diary,

oh that was simply amazing- crawling back into bed is the best feeling because i know it waits for only me. i could easily slide into the covers again now- but i am shaking from hunger- and if i went to bed again i would dream about food. destiny text me and wanted to fuck around today- but i'd already closed up shop. becky twisted my arm. she made me take that nap. ima make her take another one. there are THREE kongs in the back yard and they both know the rules NO TOYS IN THE BACK YARD because they get buried. its been the long standing rule since before becky came along- the grump used to try and sneak them out all the time- but now that they work together- its harder to make sure they don't get them out there. and the system has failed THREE times. the only way to punish them is to bring the toys back in- soak them in the hot bleach water- and scrub them- and make becky take a nap before i give them back. if i don't do it just like that- she will never learn. i kinda hope she doesn't.

even the basement was badass

dear to whom it may concern diary,

i saw a rat in my dream last night in my old house on william street  and convincing my old landlord of their existence was more than troubling- he didn't believe we had rats in the house. i have never lived with rats- but it would save me allot of money if i did. i get tired of paying eight bucks to feed the snake just one- when i know she could eat three. i miss my old house. it was a beautiful home and my family was very happy there. my youngest was born three months after we moved in there- and my oldest celebrated his first birthday as soon as we moved in. i dream allot about living there. i dream allot that i move back in there. the house was built in 1902, and it had so many extra little features. it had built in cabinets and fixtures tucked in here and there- and windows where there shouldnt'a been- over doors- and they opened- you could get lost in its design. and i did. i was in love with my house. i was in love with my family. and there were no rats in my house.

hi-ho-hi-ho its off to work 619 goes

dear getting to work on time diary,

taking it to the limit on a friday night- wow. getting to work on time saturday- hurtin. comes early. donut? no thanks- i had a cupcake. ima sleep in like a royal bitch today- i've had a vortex weak. busy on my knees and everything else. i'd love some eggs and gravy when i get up- but i know you ain't gunna bring 'em in the truck. i feel like a mexican spread today- since the eggs ain't gunna work out. that picture i posted of becky was way to fucking sweet for human words. slap a hard dick across a sweaty forehead tho- i betcha you would understand. well, just wanted to wish you a real shitty fucking long ass miserable day at work. hope you break out with herpes and get a coupla hemorrhoids and a stye in your eye- a sinus infection- and break off your other front tooth. enjoy your stress free day.

all my love,

the whore 

effortless endings

dear scanning my computer diary,

i suppose i am to just leave this running while it does it's scan- i dunno. i ain't about to stay up and babysit tonight. its time for me to expire, like milk. i am out of here. so iffin you guys need anything- you are on your own- like always- i ain't doing jack shit for nobody- not even myself for that matter- i am hittin the hay with my becky girl and calling this a big fat day. i type in my sleep tho- and talk and do everything but walk. so it will be fresh like bread when i lift my head.

oh what an upset

dear reading my wall on faceplace diary,

destiny- hey girl. i didn't know you were reading my shit. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. that's something. i hate facebook. i NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER go there, and i checked my trixiethewhore mail and it said i had fried friend requests and messages and all kinds of shit- so i went there- people are getting smart. i dunno why i never got into the whole concept of poking people and all that- but i did poke you once girl. lets go to fugi's. let's do it this week. anyday is fine- you name it- i'm game- tuesday after maria comes would be great- it's a safe day. we will celebrate your birthday early!  i got to roll my first blunt yesterday with the girls on the dark side- they taught me how- and i did a good job. then i got to sit and watch them bitches burn the big bastard down to the nub. i cant wait to introduce you to my crew girl- you will shit a fucking load. i am so white again- it ain't even funny. yesterday- i looked like a happy hostage. miss daisy was doin the drivin. it was funny. i don't exactly know why- but it was.

that's what a blog is for

dear in the middle of the night diary,


my sweet little dirt grabber

 this is what i wake up to. and that is my very favorite blanket. fuck the feather blanket. i am so done with that bitch for the winter. it's gettin washed and packed in the garbage bag tomorrow. if not tomorrow then sunday. if not sunday- then monday. that is what becky looks like every morning. that is what she looks like right now. she steals my heart every time i look at her. i fall deeper and deeper in love with her every second of every day. she does nothing that pisses me off. i will sure let you and everyone else know when she does tho.

march 23rd (its a date)

dear mommy cuntface diary,

i did so not forget aboutcha. i know you was prolly thinkin i did and all, beins i ain't spoke aboutcha in a minute, but i ain't had you fresh on my mind lately- not since i paid my, 'dui'  fine anyways. my forty one dollar balance will just havta set there- i cant afford to pay the rest of it right now. i read your cards while back and the news wasn't good. you've got some health issues coming up in the future to look out for- and financial troubles, (but we didn't need the cards for that forecast) and i saw something with walter.  i didn't get a read on kidney- and your husband has a block on me- his love wont let me in. if you loved me- i couldn't get in either. call me and i'll meet you for lunch.  

spoon me

dear eating soup and salad in bed diary,

eating soup is so damn tasty. especially when you ain't sick. it's a mini celebration in your mouth. it's a drink and a meal, and you getta use my personal two favorite things- the bowl and the spoon. i fucking love the spoon. spoons are great. i hate forks- the useless fucks. i always injure myself with them. and the prongs seem to always bend. i have high dollar silverware too- not cheap shit. maybe its because i often use the forks as nail pullers. i dunno, but i like spoons because i make less mess, and they are friendlier to my mouth. i like and appreciate restaurants who pass out spoons without having to beg for one. lafonditas is my favorite spoon restaurant at this time.

no U turns (unless you feel like it)

dear knowing how you feel diary,

coming to your senses would be easier if there was a road or a pathway that led you right to them. of course there isn't. it would be a dangerous street. mother fuckers would be going up and down that bitch all day. i will never be cool with never knowing. people make mistakes, sure, but i cant know who to blame until i wake up and smack myself in the head- or come to my senses- or both. wake me up before you go- cuz i'm not plannin on goin solo- wham. what do you want from me? nothing is as good as everything and everything is something i would love to give.

i really love my bed

dear private open letter to my beautiful wonderful bed diary,

oh how i love you. there is nothing that gives me greater pleasure in this world (except my sexy bathtub and i will address that later in a private open letter.) what you do for me can not be measured or compared. i feel the safest when i am in you. when i am away from home- it is with you i long to be. i run to you- like a thief in the night- doing everything i can just to get back to you. when you hold me and i am freezing- you warm me to the center. when i am hot and i climb in- you calm me- cooling until things get better. even though sometimes you are full of rocks and dirt from becky- i am not to good to sleep in the dirt- God made dirt- it won't hurt. 

whore in one

dear still being true diary,

one thing i know, there is one thing for certain, that poor lil girl today don't need to be in jail. i hope after the state's attorney heard what she didn't want me to say- she realized she pissed on the wrong fire hydrant. my powers still work somewhere, thank God, i dunno what happened here. yes i do, i am laughing out loud. i am not inserting the abbreviations anymore to laughing out loud because 914 told me that it is not what they look for and generally like to leave those out for the most part- unless it is part of the context of the piece. when i post on my other blog, i notice i used the abbreviation like salt on corn. so i have grown in that area. it'll keep my editor busy. i figure- my editor will have a hayfuckingday with my shit anyfuckingway. no doubt about it. my sentence fragments and mis-spailings are quite abundant. imass badas sarah palin. hearing that girl get not guilty today was awesome. i think the biggest surprise is when the bailiff ran his file cart into the courtroom door. why do you need a cart for three files anyway? his arms weren't broken- but they shoulda been for skinnin up that door like he done with that golf cart.

clinging to the side of the tank

dear planning never to go to stonehenge again diary,

one of my life long dreams and aspirations was to go to stonehenge in england and lick each of the rocks. and today- my dream was smushed out. the summer solstice festival is supposed to be unreal, a place where you can find every answer to ever question you ever had- even answers you weren't necessarily looking for. i found out whila go- you cant even get near the rocks themselves anylonger- and while i should have known that from all my trips here in our homeland- i never thought the rest of the world would be so selfish and primitive. in 1983, you could pull your car along side route 64 in arizona and park- get out- take a shoe off- and throw it in the grand canyon. i did it. in 2000, you had to pay $25 and go through a gate to see the grand canyon from route 64- after you turned into the state forest national park and drove another ten miles to the rim. funny how roads can be re-routed- but the hole didn't change. you can still see mt. rushmore without payin for that tho, ha ha. personally, it's all a bunch of bullshit to me. by gawd, if you live in this country- it ought to be your right to see the shit. i'm just sayin. but as far as the stonehenge- i don't see why they wont let people up to see them anymore? are they worried someone will run off with one? if i cant go up and touch it with my hands- lick it with my tongue- just admire it with my eyes- why go? i wanted to lay in the middle of them and look up to the sky. wtf?  

skipped that

room 205 please

closed

shhhhhhhh

dear standing on the stand diary,

i don't make a very good witness, but the judge and jury seemed to like me, and they believed me too, thats what i heard the state's attorney tell the sheriff as they escorted me out. i got in trouble three times for taking the pictures below and above- but when i spoke to courtney- she said she didn't care as long as there were no people in them. i took the time to carefully go over the pictures i had taken, showing her there were no people in them, explaining how i hated people, and courtney gave me explicit permission to take these pictures and i told the lady who snitched me out i had gotten the necessary consent- she still didn't believe me. i went on to tell her- i was not the criminal this time and to please quit treating me as such. people are people in everytown. so then i missed the turn coming home and ended up in a different town- had lunch and still made it home in time for a nap. i seem too get in trouble wherever i go. it never used to be this bad.

s.u.c.k.e.r. (i am)

dear moving while it's warm out diary,

who would use a U-HauL van to move into a GarbagE can? prolly not the city employee. he already has a van. and last time he moved on wood street- everything fit in the trunk of the malibu. he might have more stuff by now tho, i'd hope, or he might have less. living with people you lose shit. wtf am i worried about it for anyway? i donated a crockpot and cordless phone- a coupla cellphones- some dishes and blankets and shit- hell- he might have more shit now. wait that ain't where i was supposed to go. fuck. wtf am i worried about it for anyway? it ain't my divorce. i wont be getting half his garbage i wouldn't want after i gave it to him in the first place. wait. that ain't where i was supposed to go either. damnit- i broke my record again. ima get out the cassette player. oh wait- i took it to the firehouse and loaned it to him. silly me. what a fucked up deal. i wish i could at least get my razor back.

holding his breath while granny snaps in two

dear happy mouth diary,

chewing cashews has got to be a pleasure that God did not plan on providing everyone here on earth. they are so good when you are out stawking around too. i swear they are. yummy. i have to hurry tonight- i am beat to a thin mint girl scout cookie pulp. no excuse. i am worn OUT. i got kicked out of the room last night. its wrong- on so many levels because i have my own side of the bed which i share with becky only and usually i bother nobody- but the grump and becky and i all slept on the couch last night- which led to an uncomfortable position for us all. the grump slept in my crotch- which actually was the best place for him- and rather enjoyable at certain times- when he'd get to snoring at a rambunctious pace. i fell asleep wondering if he was going to die or what- he never did. i swear, his breathing is really really fucked up. it is a wonder he is alive each morning- a miracle even. work was fun tonight. grandma kicked our ass- but we held our own. the fat hog at the end of our table ran her mouth about me and it came back full circle and she wondered why i said something about it. like DUH- guess she don't know me to fucking well now does she.

so much unpacking to do

dear dinner is ready- but it isn't ready diary,

my friend came by and made lasagna for dinner- all the while not noticing i already had a roast in the crockpot cooking in tomato juice and beef broth for soup. it isn't really a roast- per say- but it'll cover as one. it's stew meat. and it'll make good soup. she never acted like she saw it cooking- i never said a word. id rather have lasagna. she loaded the dishwasher and everything. shit. i love it when she is depressed. now i am fixin to take a nap. i will put the delicious italian bake in the oven when i wake up. the soup will continue to cook while i sleep and the veggies will get added later. things are smoothly rolling along here- at a rapid pace- and a nap is the best place for me now. i cant wait to be in the loving company of those who await me- in my dreams- of course.

flying my kite

dear it must not be sixty outside yet diary,

waking up to beautiful nails is really something. opening the window as soon as i got to it, a bit premature, i am afraid. i already shut it again. looking outside for a bag of cotton candy hanging on my door, utterly pathetic. i think i need an extra dose of prozac for that one- or something stronger. iv drip. nothing spectacular on my mind today, but waking up with becky and her arm around my neck was simply amazing. i was having a shitty dream. i dunno i f i had been talking out loud and that's what brought her up to me or what, but looking into her eyes made everything better. then i got to watch her drift asleep with her arm around me. that really woke me up. i could see her going farther and farther away. she is looking at me again now- as if she knows i am typing about her somehow. i have to wash my hair today, or part it a different way. i don't like that new shampoo i got- it doesn't keep my hair clean very long. fancy shit. you don't always get what you pay for. and the bottle ain't that nice either. so i dunno. i emptied out my vacuum yesterday and beat the filter out on the lightpole out by the road. fucker works like brand new and smells better too. im glad all the snow is gone pretty much and looks normal again in the yard, even the leaves are still there- but i dunno where they wudda went- the snow just covered them up. the mail already went but i haven't got yesterday's yet. nobody does welfare checks on me, or  for me either. i would cash one iffin they did. the new icemaker makes the funniest little cubes i have ever seen in my entire fucking life. i simply adore them. they look like little hollow penises. you can stick them in your butt perfectly. i haven't taken the time to do so- yet- but i can tell by looking- that's where they should go with ease. technology has made it to the ice cube kids.

stfu and let me go to jail

dear what a fucking bitch diary,

omfg you are not going to believe this shit right. so im at the walmart, and my phone rings. im thinking end of world- fucking nightmare on elm street  right? its 4:45am nothing good can come of this its PRIVATE CALL- immediately my heart begins to pound. if i answer it- i could go to jail- OF COURSE IMA ANSWER IT... DUH....  its my friend, 'yvette'  all upset at our mutual friend, 'stacie,' for running her mouth about some shit she had no business running her mouth about. so i am walking through walmart at almost 5am consoling, 'yvette,' about, 'stacie,' when up from behind me like a fucking hurricane and an evil loud shrill voice came shrieking behind me saying, "do you know what that fucking bitch yvette did to me girl," and there stood stacie with yvette in my ear at now five in the morning. yvette just hung up and i ditched stacie and drove home as fast as i could. i'll never get to sleep now. fuck. i just need a beeper.

you are an idiot- get a life

dear sponsor me diary,

i might have a problem. it has come to my attention that it is beyond recognition at this point because it has become a need not a desire. and um, ima have to obtain some type of network to establish some support to abstain from participating in the repeated behaviors. otherwise, ima continue to get paid and be satisfied mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually, and we cant be having all that shit. can we? the problem here is that i like what i am doing, allot. the content never seems to fail. personally i don't see the issue here but apparently there is one. they tell me that eventually there will be a time when the issue will be in the tissue and i just don't see that happening here. ever. but it might. my drivel and my paid content has yet to coincide that is the only thing that should worry anyone and as long as 914 is happy and keeps sending the greenbacks we cool. i make sure the oil and the water stay far from the blood and the salted tears. and if i do let them mix- i never say a word. hush hush, nobody knows when a stupid ain't dumb.

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.

walking on water never worked well either

dear what would it be like to float diary,

if i could float around, i would never sink down. i would never feel heavy. and i would never prolly feel fat. i don't really feel fat that much anymore since they sucked 1200cc out, and i don't even know how much that is really, i just know all my jeans fit a whole lot better and it hurt like fuck. i liked doing it because you can't really tell i did it, so it ain't all captain obvious i went to the butcher shop. i am ready to go captain on my tits tho. but i am scared they will never feel normal again. i don't want to walk around feeling like i have contacts in my boobs for the rest of my life. i hate wearing contacts. i might just say fuck it and get another padded bra. lets face it- nobody will ever suck, see, or fuck my tits again anyways. it's all good. we're supposed to be adults here. which reminds me, SHOUT OUT to my kids friends parents. i don't know how to feel about this. knowing my kids read about my vagina is bad enough, but now their friends' PARENTS?  and it ain't gunna do much good to start to sensor now- is it? thank God i have never met any of them. whew. i prolly wont be getting 'parent of the year,' but that's ok, i never signed up for it. i am just now trying to learn how to float without the use of pot.

non-profit

dear disruptive thoughts come from funky posts diary,
the words eye, love and you can have many different meanings when taken out of context. for instance, i realized last night at around 9:55PM that will prolly end up the kind of old lady that gets taken advantage of online at age 80 when she falls in love with a 35 year old scam artist. that's me. ima sucker. i am an eternal romantic- forever believing in the 'message in the bottle.' there is no ocean here- no sandy beach with a bottle- no message for me to find- like anyone would think of me when leaving a message. i am done with love, and you, and eye. and ain't that funny because i don't know who eye is. but if it is who made mine cry- well i am putting the cork back in, the message is not mine. and if the message was from someone new- how strange that would be- i would expect payment then as described earlier. ($49.95 cash or paypal only)

it just makes it worse

dear loss of body hair diary,

pubic louse came from gorillas- can you believe that shit? huh. i for one, am not allowing myself to go there. i hate watching science shows on the television. especially NOVA for shits sake. they can talk you into anything with that fucking music they play and that cute guy with his hands on his hips- with his wedding ring gleaming in every screenshot. of course you'll believe anything this honest abe bitch says to you. they blow glitter in the air behind the person they are interviewing too, making them look more, i dunno, smart maybe... it makes me laugh. sell me on science mother fuckers- whatcha got for me today. sometimes tho- i can believe the shit. i dunno. i not a smart cookie so allot goes over my head- even when i rewind it and watch it twice.

validated

dear what are you doing diary,

i have written like twenty books, which will prolly be published and gawd damn works of buttfucking art when i am dead or some shit- SHOUT OUT to the fucker that publishes them bad ass bitches. on my twentieth birthday i spent ALL of my birthday money i got (which was quite a bit back then because all my rich aunts and uncles were still alive) and i sent manuscripts out to several publishing houses. i had a post office box and everything downtown- yeah, i was in the big league. i even had a beeper- but i sold a little pot once in awhile- so my beeper actually got used. i had woods printing print them out- they were nice little packages i sent- i was sure proud. then i got married, got a divorce, had a baby. got remarried, got another divorce, had another baby, met my biological parents, and my life started getting really interesting. then i turned thirty. and eleven days after that- damnit if my whole life didn't change again for the second time on the same date. eleven days after i was born, i was adopted into a home that accepted me before they even knew what an idiot i would become. eleven days after i turned thirty, i was found again in los angeles, the city of angels. iffin my life did start again that day- then in three months and eleven days from today- i will be eleven.

adios chinga

dear safely traveling to mexico diary,

capturing the beef fajita is what i am doing tonight. roping the wild beast without any trouble is what i plan on doing. but i would rather do lockstock and their taco night- but FUCK IT. i don't want to have to intimidate myself by getting dressed. i cant wait to crawl into bed and sleep. i have had a high effort day. busy busy busy. ima hit the road before it gets any later. after all it is a long way to mexico.

trippin thru the library (i cant right no book)

dear if i was blind i could still see diary,

i know that reads funny, and i couldn't even read it if i was blind prolly, but the post from bloomington almost made me cry. somebody wanted me to write a book. i like books. books look nice on shelves with stuff sittin in front of them. i have so many books. but the thing about books and everything else on shelves- they collect dust. dust is bad. because after dust sits for a long time- it turns into heavy dirt. now. i like dirty books- i think everybody does, but dusty books suck donkey dick. recently i started packing my books in tough boxes and storing them in a safe place in my basement where it wont get wet when it floods in the spring. if i did write a book, these are the following problems i would worry about concerning MY book:

• my book might collect dust and be considered dirty
• my book might get published and sit in the wet part of my basement
• blind people may not be able to read my book
• my comma, usage and spailling offend scholars
• i would be ineligible for foodstamps and liheap if any sold
• whores are only good at sucking penis

you're out

dear winning some and loosing some diary,

my brother and i always signed up for little league baseball- even before school was out. i, of course, was always on the girls team sponsored by a pizza place here in town. i'd say the summer i just eleven, my summers changed. but this was not by my efforts, i wanted things to stay pretty much the same- but maybe with a few more freedoms.
it was my turn at bat- the score was tied two to two; two girls on and two outs. i swung the bat.
"strike one," i heard behind me.
i swung again.
"strike two," i heard again behind me.
when i started to swing the bat the third time something happened. the outside lights became so intensely bright and the bat weighed about 3000 pounds- all the park noise got really loud. there was a frosty glow on the ball as it flew by me. then everything unanimously got dark and loudly quiet and still. my legs folded up like a lawn chair you'd pack in the trunk for an evening of fireworks at the park on the forth of july. i began to sweat and my mind wandered freely through the jungle of the between place. then i heard the loud quiet park sounds again and realized i was still folded up like a chair. i just couldn't get up yet. i just laid there.
my mother was screaming my name over my head laying in the dirt. over and over my name rang out- yet i couldn't make a noise or move- i was passed out. my mother rarely over-reacted, but this was obviously one of the few times she did. i say that because i felt fine in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. i would have liked to have finished the game. my team brought pizza and stayed the next night until the nurses made them leave. i spent two nights in the hospital and there wasn't anything wrong with me. the doctor recommended we check into another label for my sleeve.

hands across the washrags

dear reading the board diary,

i love reading the board and seeing my name in a post. it makes me squirt. iffin i had a penis it would be rock hard i betcha. it would. i looked down my shirt and neither one of my tits were hard, but i don't think that means anything. but it might. you never do know. i got the window open and the dogs keep barking. fuck. these retards act like the air comes from a different place in the front yard than the back. don't get that- but i suppose i dont have to. if i break a nail swattin at one of them tho- it'll be a different story altogether. dorks. oh my gawd- someone is walking by now. Heaven forbid. the house sure smells better. i've aired it out. and i have shut the heater off. tradition. when my friend took me to eat today the lady yelled for a number whose order was ready- it was loud and right IN MY FACE, she goes, "FORTY ONE," and i thought to myself out loud under my breath, "fucker," and smiled as she then took our order. my friend just laughed and laughed. i used to kinda work there, i say kinda cuz i didn't really ever clock in- i just hung out and helped out a little. the stupid city employee used to help me fold washrags and visit with my friends. i liked watching him watch his wife come and tan at the place across the way. i don't go there much anymore. not like i used to.

put the shovel away damner

dear watching the funeral today was sad diary,

stalking that funeral today from across the road made me feel kindof stupid, but i wasn't dressed appropriately to go up and join them, so listening to pearl jam in the car on a side street in my pajamas seemed like the best option. i am drawn to death and the celebration of it. it's sad you know- the finality of it all. the last hoorah. the tent was pretty. the casket skirt- so formal. all the pretty chairs. then the endloader or backhoe thing was just off to the north- they wasn't fucking around. you figure with gas prices and all- its cheaper to leave the bitch set there than to drag it back out to pack the dead fucker in the ground with. i dunno. people are something else. i felt bad. a family shouldn't hafto look at the fucking shovel. i feel in my heart of hearts pretty confident in that.

24 hour notice

dear she finally listened diary,

my mom was a good mom- no matter who else was around. she was the same mom when we were alone- just her and i. she was a smart woman, and the thing that set her most apart from others was her ability to listen to me- and completely understand- or not understand- it didn't matter really. but she always heard me. when i explained what happened she listened but didn't understand and acted without hesitation. i heard her cancel my afternoon appointment by telephone. she told the receptionist i would no longer be coming. all i had told my mother was that i did not feel comfortable with him anymore- i never told her he had tried to touch me like the wind. it didn't matter, i never had to return.

paying for a friend

dear hiding normal behaviors is hard diary,

apparently my skills at hiding my 'odd' behaviors were lacking yet as a child, undeveloped i would like to assume, as my mother eventually sought professional help. we went to see my new friend once a week. i can still smell the inside of our car as we neared the office on one special visit. it was raining that day and the defrost let off a distinct smell of its own. his office, i thought, was dirty and cold- in that order. dirty first- then cold, mostly because not one picture hung on the walls. the magazines were far outdated, my mother would often complain, and dust and dirt trimmed the room like a border. i always heard strange noises between the thick concrete walls of the once elementary school building. my legs always stuck to the vinyl chairs that made a perfect square in the waiting room. it sounded like i farted everytime i got up. why can't i chew my nails anymore?

designer labels

dear identifying logic diary,

one thing i never told anyone growing up was about the people in my bedroom. and thank God for secrets, that would have prolly been the fanciest label of all. but while i knew these people did truly exist, i knew they weren't really there. i spent hours looking for them in the day- many times- during my childhood. i constantly cleaned out my closet- repacking it full so there would be no room for anything else that could take up space. once packing it clear to the lightbulb- burning my sleepingbag that had the trees on it. forever reminding me of the dangers of forest fires. i never told my mother why i packed my closet and kept it arranged like that- and she always wanted to know. when my north and west windows stood open all night, a steady breeze would catch the corner of the house and sometimes it felt like fingers under my summer nightgown. on those nights my imagination worked so hard, those fingers belonged to the people who lived in my room. i let those people touch me everywhere. i was molested by the spirits in the wind. and see yet, another label.

i hate it when i do that

dear good morning sunshine diary,

that house looks like shit. its gunna suck smelling that. what a beautiful day it is today with the sun and everything. i found some old shit that i wrote in 2000 that blew my mind. i cant believe i wrote that. it is on actual paper too, which makes it even better. it was an assignment for a writing class at parkland and honestly, i do not even remember writing it, but i had to- it has my name on it- and a grade- and comments from the teacher- all of it. not just that- the content of the subject matter is clearly peeled directly from my life- so that nobody else could have possibly written it- and if that ain't enough, it is written in my language- so damn you would know i wrote it even if you didn't know me at all- yet- i don't remember writing it. it is a spook- for sure. so anymfway, i have to get in the tub. now. pretty quick anyways. i read that 'pumpkin' post this morning- and it threw me. it is wrong. whoever posted it is wrong. the correct way to write the last line is..... 'frost on the pumpkin... time for peter dunkin'  and that is what made me dig in all my old school papers to find that quote. i used it once in a story i wrote. so i had to know what it was. and now i do. damn.

marshmellows on a long stick

dear boys are working hard in my neighborhood diary,

the city sent the boys over to put out a big ole fire, but it ain't first shift today so it was safe for me to watch. i popped some corn and threw my robe on and stood in the back and ate, and then i came back inside and finished the dogshow i had on pause. now im sittin here by myself waitin for a text. i took a picture of the fire and sent it to all my friends. they will all get a laugh of course because its all a huge scam. i don't know which is funnier- who started the fire or watching them. i suppose its good practice for the boys to put it out. you know there wasn't nothing of value up in there for them to drag out. now i am all nervous feeling like i have violated some law- and they haven't come within 50ft of me so i ain't worried at all. and it ain't the whole crew of them GOD DANG that wouldn't be fair- it is just the one city employee with the feminine flair. so i dunno whats got me trippin- it wasn't my house that burned down. shit. ima take a bath to calm myself and eat a grilled cheese and watch tv.

extra miles for a while with a broken leg

dear looking at the bottom of my shoe diary,

ever seen a guy who has a shebooty. they're fun to look at- but try wrappin your legs around it. hard core. rosa grabbed my leg the other day and was quick to let go and apologize. i was like. "wtf you sorry for?" and rosa said, "i damn near broke your leg girl," and with that we both just laughed- in part because it was true- and the other part- because- she had touched me. rosa had touched me. on my leg. humm. now, rosa is the woman who stabbed her husband but didn't kill him, and remember i was scared of her when we first met some time ago- but now i just think the world of her- she makes me laugh til i cry- you know. she is the one who has seen the city employee all over town- she knows what his plates are on his van and sends me picture messages of him and his male friend getting gas, i could do without those things- but the prostitute- that's shit i couldn't pass- but anyway- ima go to buffalo wild wings and weldon springs and then come home through clinton.

outback inland beachside on the boardwalk

dear calling out to virginia diary,

i just talked to my dad- they are at outback on the beach- janet had teriyaki chicken medallions and rice and dad had raw steak as always. my daddy here likes his meat burnt to a crisp- my dad there likes it 'mooing' i like it hot and pink- so i can't tell where i got my likings. nature or nurture- it's a funny thing- i still have yet to figure it out. i have a bunch of examples- seriously- without a doubt. i am about starved to death right now getting ready to make monte cristos. i love the melted cheese and jelly with seeds- i just wish they weren't so bad for you. i only make them once a year and i cant wait any longer- i bought the shit at the store the other day and ima chow down because they are my favorite.

turning my hitter into a hammer

dear sharing custody of a joint diary,

when sharing custody of a joint, it is always best to share it, unless you're with me. then you getta have the bitch all to yourself and i just getta set there and foam at the mouth and think of all the things ima bitch about with my fingers when i get back home to someone that will listen- my blog. this is the real punishment of my 'crime' tho- the not smoking pot part, everytime i could and don't, it fuels my anger towards our fair and just justice system even more. sometimes justice is served best in the halls. ima start carrying a hammer. since i no longer use my hitter.

fat foot warmer

dear jumping rope and giving up hope diary,

you know, tricking the dog is so easy. he is not very smart. he reminds me of someone else i used to know. this guy named 'phil.' he was big and dumb and full of cum and happy as a baby. yup that's the grump- it really is. he's stupid. i can say, "whose here?" and scrunch up my eyebrows- he's on the door like a dick on a whore- and i don't have to say another word. but if i ask politely for him to move- or even to scoot over- he ain't gunna budge- he won't even nudge- you have to use extreme force to plow over him. so this morning- he wouldn't listen to my warning time and time again- i yelled and i hollered and wished he wore a collar- and damn near punched him twice- then all of a sudden i remembered in my head the trick that makes him jump. "hey grumpy," i said really excitedly, "someones at the door!" he sprung right up and jumped right down on to the floor. out he went to protect and save his true love who just wanted room- room to stretch and relax and wake up without him laying across my feet. it is really not mean of me to make him go away- he comes right back i promise you- and loves me just the same.

23, 32, 46, 64

dear diary,

we really need a better name for you cuz the diary thing is just stale. there is a fly in here and its flying around, i guess that's what flys do, and this mf is pissin me off. start thinking of what you want me to call you from now on tho seriously, im glad them fly strips are out of here but i wish there was one more for that little beast to land on, how about Teddy. or Rowanda, just hand me a fly swatter then. i dunno but it does suck that I BURNT THE COUCH, but at least it was already broken, still dunno who brokit, wasn't a fly, id guess, bet and win, but, the board under the bottom is cracked in two. i didn't do it. drop this big bitch off at the good will, for rill, its brand new too, frickin ashley furniture LMAO. its my turn in the salt bath, i like the salt cuz it kills fleas. not that i have fleas, if i did tho, they'd be dead. cant believe tuesday there will be forty six days left in the year. mmmm 46.

ham and uggs

dear diary,

well, i just re-read my last entries, and son of a bitch they almost made sense. so ill fucking try again. im sorry to let everyone down. ill do better. one foot is painted and the other foot ain't and now im burnt on the color i chose, it brought me no luck at all, and i put nancy grace on my ornament again this year instead of paula deen and nancy grace, i did nancy grace and larry king for the simple fact that larry king is not hot, but hes prolly gunna die soon and that will be sad if i don't get on his show before he dies because peirce morgan sucks hamsters. can you believe people put hamsters up their ass. that shocked me the day i found that out. im not sure i even want to have red toenails this week im thinking brown. brown is good for november, i call november KoVeMembEr. that's what it says on my home screen on my phone. i change my greeting on my phone allot too. when you first turn it on it (my phone) says DICKMUNCHER, but that's not an accurate statement because i don't munch on dicks, i like chicken and biscuit crackers and OMG double blasted goldfish cheddar crackers and macaroni and cheese, but pineapple just tears me up. and i love pineapple. i have a weakness for it like nothing else, except peaches, and corn, and waffles, and ham and uggs. well ima fold a load of towels and paint some snails.

reach for the sky- run for the pills

dear diary,

i just picked out a garden of chinese food out between my teeth. u know, i wonder what it would actually be like to just be able to take yer rack of teeth out and pick the shit out and put them back in when yer done. Chrimany, just think how much money you would save on toothpaste and shit. id just run my dentures through the dishwasher or washer, id do em like i do my bras and Free People sweaters, tie em up in separate pillow cases and toss em on in. and when i got tired of havin them in my mouth when i was in the car, id open my glove box and just put them in there till i got home. that's what cheating spouses do with their wedding rings lol, it just sucks WHEN THEY LOSE IT, and what if i lost my teeth, left them at the car wash while fuckin? i think id put an ad in the paper, like the one i put in the paper march 9, 2008 only this one would read "LOST TOP ROW OF TEETH AT CAR WASH DURING ILLICIT AFFAIR AFTER ANAL SEX... HEFTY REWARD IF FOUND PLEASE CALL" damner. or maybe it'd be the bottom row? or both LOL and btw, did you know you really didn't lose your wedding ring? i took that bitch.

so i saw smoke signals tonite, but i couldn't make out the message, i don't think there was one.im waiting for the jacuzzi room to be constructed for the girls to be able to relax and reach towards the sky, but it looks like the porch took priority over the jacuzzi and the needs of the pokey women and the "old man." but i bet that phone book is sure happy. and if i mite add, the boots i suggested, you may not like because the toes aren't pointy lol and wont "kill a spider in a corner," but you can snuff a mouse in one swift kick. CROSS MY HEART, altho i'd prefer that you'd reach down and pick the lil fucker up and bring it to me because the snake would eat the bitch. AND I HAVE A LEGIT BONE TO PICK WITH YOU AND JUST REMEMBERED.


NEW PARAGRAPH

so the cops was here the other night and a CERTAIN SUBJECT (which is irrelevant) CAME UP AND I WANT TO DISCUSS THE OUTCOME OF THE CONVERSATION AT THIS TIME lol. picking up mid conversation towards the end:

COP SAYS : "People DO NOT RUN away when they AREN'T doing something GUILTY"

I SAY: "YES THEY DO."

COP SAYS, "MOST PEOPLE DO NOT RUN AWAY WHEN THEY AREN'T DOING SOMETHING GUILTY"

so.... im just sayin. lol.
and that time i RAN AWAY, I WASN'T DOING NOTHIN TO BE GUILTY OF.............

i ran because..... i wanted to leave fast.

raising raisns and fingernail polish

ddrraaiye,

well they called me into work tonight and now im pissed off because i got soup all over my vest and dogshit on my pants and im going to call tim back and tell them that i have a sinus infection from going to the doctors office yesterday and ima need two and a half weeks off (twenty days) to regain strength after my vacation is over which technically isn't til sunday, so i dunno why they would call me in today, i dunno i must be a good worker and i just started so i don't know how they could tell yet. damn. i need a raise. anyway im not goin in. and if i do it will be to get fingernail polish remover and garbage bags and a tarp. i miss my friend. she was so good to me. my battery is dead on my phone. wont be pinging tonite. well i should jump into the slumber pen and zzzz and then bathe for the dead sea treatment soft skin is such a delightful way to wake up. shoulda dun already been asleep two hours previous to the last two entries WHORLITES

letters from the hairport 11/12/10

riayd read,

omfg, they delivert my helicopter. and i finally finished the jumpsuit for rocky balahboah. the suit is five feet nine inches long and i wish i had a better way to affix it to her neck/throat tho cuz everytime she wiggles she slivers out of it, and i know the old people are gunna nutt when they see her in her mrs. santa outfit lol i already know the toddlers will dig it cuz whatever i like they like DUH but that helicopter is sweet. don't see why it came on a truck, ida just flown the fucker in, but oh well, guess they didn't wanta put the hours on the motor like a lawnmower, who cares, i don't, fly the bitch it ain't made to cut grass. and about that sewing machine, man do i need a nap, but im about past the level of excitement where that could be possible. betcha wondered why it took so long to get up today,  i aint sayin, cept, had to sign the delivery papers, and all that jazz, had lunch with my girl at the place where ima get this flour pot they got settin outside in 23 months and 7 days and then after i took the buttons back of the jumpsuit i made for rocky balahboah, cuz the buttons ended up being a stupid idea, and the zipper- stupider- if possible- i finished it up with a nice even hem, and a soft gathering, which gave it a flattering feature to an otherwise plain front. so as you can see, my ptsd has somewhat calmed from last nite, and the first morning sun salutations helped tremendously i can only assume that's what did it. so i know ur prolly working on yer laptop now so ill go so you can go jack off. the air smelled just like your porky pig neck today. cudda been my greasy head. now its time to get out and start my day? how was kelly? that's disgusting. ima take care of that. MOM. huh? i love you mom.

no turkey is worth searching a dumpster for

dear diary,

the car wont start and im to hot to sleep. its 73 degrees in here and i am now expierencinginng symptoms of my newly diagnosed PTSD, and i cant seem to get comfortable. i tried sleeping under a table like the lady told me that allot of war heroes do, and some find help by nurturing a snake, which i have for years, but the heat (the affair took place in the hot summer) and now the separation from his wife and not being able to apologize for my behaviors has left me utterly painless and lacking in remorse in such a way, i find myself humiliated that i ever wanted to apologize IN THE FIRST GD PLACE however, i will continue to belittle myself on an almost hourly basis until i have made every point humanly and sub humanly possibly or until the fat homo mf loses the weight he wanted to lose anyway because he cant eat when he has anxiety and his job performance is PROLLY pretty superior about now and im sooper sorry about that but a whore hasta do what a whore hasta do just to be able to get up in the morning and look another whore in the face.

hitch-hiking before dawn dishsoap

dear iadry,

so every time i pull that black hair out of my chin something good happens. and it did. i done found them dead ass sea salts for the bathtub, by Gawd. my skin ain't never been this soft that i can ever remember and it must be so because my kids are on me like stink on shit and the blackheads are flyin out before i can squeeze them. its like im in arizona or some shit i wish i was in arizona, but then id just think about the past. i miss my answering machine greeting message from the last time i was there, man that was THE BEST, it was a pakistan lady speaking, it sounded just like me, i thought, you know, if i was from pakistan, anyway, she was in distress, but you didnt know why unless you speaka her language, she just smile and gave me a bitta that sandwich. it sure is hot in here now WHEWEEEEEEEEEE. i think ill go for a ride outside in the car on the street road in the city. nite

cherry tomato eye testing

dear diary,

well, i am so full. oink oink. i just finished my TOENAIL MOON SALUTATIONS. i have nearly applied all of my mud mask and im thinking of changing my polish color, nah im not. the moon tonight reminds me of when i was a child, well to be perfectly honest, it might not be the toenail moon, it could be the tomato on my shirt, (i know its a fricking miracle WE STILL HAVE TOMATOES HA HA IF YOU DON'T imagine me sticking my tongue out lol) anyways tonite reminds me of when i was a child and my dog RUSTY GYM SHOE broke his line in the back yard and i had to go chase him in my yellow nightgown. that sucked, and tonight sucked, because i burnt the cookies and i got tomato on my shirt and all the hi-c is practically prolly almost gone and now you have to be careful at the store because the red tic-tacs ain't what they used to be. rat bastards. someone outta sew someones eyes open and drop cherry flavored visine and do a lil testing

going under deep sea salt 11/11/10

dear diary,

im almost offended by the colored text. snot fair. i dunno how to do that. but, im happy in the black face font so i dunno, my massage seems to fill good spaces where it lingers with pain on the pages of the mindful units before me- my mercy that was indeed a most beautiful passage, one i do hope shall live forever in time lol, fuckit i don't care use whatever damned assed color you want bopeep i got new deep sea bath salt for my bath tub and ten new bic lighters and the thing about a sewing machine is when you turn a dial you haftaa turn the other dials too to match the first dial cuz if you just go turning one dial yer gunna fuck yer bobbin up now, AND YER GUNNA HAVE BOBBIN PROBLEMS, im just sayin, could you hand me the ashtray please, thank you, i forgot to get them toothflossers at the store you little bitch, start the dryer too while you're in there, WHORE, ok so what were you sayin? shut the fuck up? in red ink- or blue?

checks, boots, and balances (11/11/10)

dear missed date diary,

thank you for leaving the check, i just found it, ima cash it, for all the pain and suffering i went through today preparing for our date. plus, the doctor visit. ima take my friend out to lunch tomorrow and prolly get a new pair of boots i hope thats ok. no hard feelings.

thanks again. and you did spell my name right.

the whore

tardy tardy tardy (11/11/10)

dear appointment book diary,

so ima start double booking because if yer gunna be late lol ima find somethin else to do. for real cuz i think it was funny when you came to the door and i was behind the side of the house next door watching you knock on my door, but you were late, and i been hungry all day. and i was excited, and you were late. so im done with you. bottom line, you can be late to a dentist appointment, but not for an appointment with me. so i dunno you said 6:45 it was 6:50.

who invented the tube? 11/11/10

dear diary,

wonder what it would feel like to be an aerosol can. bet it would feel much different to be a full can than an empty can. and i bet it would feel different in the summer than the winter. and it would suck to have a clogged up nozzle spout. altho, that'd keep a can around longer i'd think, or send you on yer way quicker, at my house, you'd be decofuckingration for countless years to come. yes aerosol cans are pretty, as long as they're not dusty and the lids aren't missing. people hate aerosol cans so maybe i should be extra nice to the next aerosol can i meet. perfume bottles are pretty too, but i hate lids on those. because they never stay, and they just spritz anyway they aren't aerosols. and the same with toothpaste. you know. toothpaste lids are dumb. who invented the TUBE-ical? Mr. John Henry Tube? who invented the lid? Peter Ivan Lid? and you think i have to much thyme on my hands. horseshit. it could be worser. my date ain't prolly gunna shoe up you guys prolly skirred him off with all yer NEGATIVE POSTINGS about MY posts, and thats fine, because i can eat macaboni and cheese and french fries and be just as happy, or call jimmy johns because they like me there and always bring me free bread when they have it but when its this late in the day sometimes they don't have it anymore so i call Garcia's and he likes me too and calls me babe and i get the stuffed baby and mom wants me to sing with her but i told her only it they will install a shower in the sanctuary- then i would- i love Garcia mom.

ima wait outside til its my turn lol i guess thats how you wait on a date? yeah?

no lorna doone cookies at the bloodfest today (11/11/10)

dear diary,

hailow my pretty. my arm hurts. and im tired- no time for napsackin now. cant be late. for the date. so. you know. omg. you can almost feel the excitement brewing in the air. what to wear. how to do my hair. twelve refills, relief for my friends, it never does end, the holiday's are fast approaching, people who get dying trees and drag them in their house are stupid. ima decorate the fern this year, or the palm tree. fake trees are dumb too. and who would tattoo a palm tree on their chest. that's what i was thinkin, NOT ME, some people do tho- and then are proud of it. i know i wouldn't be proud of it. im hungry. i wish today was wednesday so the taco nite was going on at LSB, but id still want it to be thursday, especially NAY DAY thursDAY because today is BAD ASS, and I love today, i just hope the ritzy fuck don't try to impress me and go to tuscany's cuz really i just want to eat and get down to the business cuz after i get blood drawn im usually quite hungry and twoday ain't no kinda exception.

growling

velcro instead of string

dear diary,

PORK CHOPS ARE DONE! thin lil shits. omg who knew animal testing meant "sewing eyeballs open and squirting shit in them to get a reaction," ELLEN DEGENERES WTF?? im done with covergirl anyway  i switched to Urban Decay and Smashboxl. i don't think they use eyeliner on rats. man them chops are smailin good. caint seem to do much of about nothing today, but my boots are on so im ready for something.

tweedledee

bounty- the quicker picker upper

dear diary,

i guess that's what makes me special. at least that's what everybody says anyway. any you either kinda like it or you don't. i got a memory like an elephant yet, i cant seem to remember shit. funny how that works. gotta think at my own speed, which is sometimes really fast and other times, really slow. thoughts come at rapid fire, and at times when i least expect them, mostly when a keyboard is here to catch them thank God not a microphone and audience, but when that does happen, its better when its out of state that way nobody gets their feelings hurt as bad  cuz once it starts coming out it really wont stop especially lately cuz i used to talk about finding big boogers on the shower door and how i was sure they were part of someones brain but not anymore kids, the days of the giant turd stories at disneyworld on January 2, 1995 are long gone, long gone. my new stories have blossomed into fantastic novelties that leave even me standing in awe. and the tips have turned into donations, a legal fund if you will, and my stagename facebook following grows twofold after every show. basically what im saying is, that, its hard, bouncing back and forth between here and reality, and i know that once i decide where ima stay, where im mostest comfortabilist, i will be loved no matter where i end up.

and that feeling in the pittness of your stomach will go away, after your set is over, or you get used to the spotlight. i got used to it, and i poop normal and everything now. fiber, eat a towel.

court transcripts 11/11/10

the TRANSCRIPTS really TRANSLATE directly to a movie script

and i am NOT FRIGGIN KIDDING.


EXAMPLES:

HIM....................."about fifty percent because of her....." bahhaahahhahahhahhahahhaah.

HER............"a perfect and happy life til she came along a year ago ...." aaaaaaaaahahhhahahhahahahhahahahahahh......................................ahahahhahhahahhhahhah.

HER............."she stuck her tongue out at me........" ahhhhhhhahahhahahhahhahhahahhhaah....................ahahahhahahhhahahhahahh...............

HER...................."called and disguised her voice....but i could tell it was her..........." ahhahhahahahhahhahahahahhhahahahhahahahh.........................aahahhahahahhhahah



and on and on and on for another 146 minutes LMAO.................... WORTH EVERY PENNY!

Z D AND ME (4 OF US MINUS 1) 11/11/10

i thinks that's how it went and shit blkrn black korn i love that group QTPIE its comin lol i like the counting crows and RASCAL FLATS SUCKS yukyukyuk hangin old plates in the basement is whatcher posta do oh wait u aint gotta basement LMAO, OH WAIL, maybe another tornado'll blow thru like in 1974 and dig u one up lol oh damn shouldn't it have been Z D N ME AND T? somebody told me he (T) has a smaller deal that u know who- mr. woo. IS THAT POSSIBLE? you poor poor thing. you need a good pounding EVEN JUST ONCE IN YOUR LIFE once would make all the difference. i cant do this anymore rite now ima get roughed and scuffed TONIGHT pounded honey- and ima be thankin bout you the WHOLE time NOT

*whore note

omg i can not believe i wrote this LMAO i musta been pissed off back then 2/15

bush whackin- pants zippin (11/11/1o)

dear diary,

what wicked tangles my hairs weave when at last i do getta sleep. THE NAY DAY hath finally arrived. its sad that they're gunna bury that soldier on Veteran's Day at Camp Butler. irony has a way if rearing its head in people's lives at times, and some people who aren't ready for that become paranoid, often accusing fate of playing tricks on them, when in reality- its nothing but ironic how it all just happened to happen. but you cant tail some folks that. like i met a guy once on 9/12/05 and had no concept of the importance of this day to him- he wasn't wearing a badge that reflected such knowledge, even tho he had a badge on, it said nothing about 9/12 so it was just a day to me, and frankly STILL IS, and the way he acted on all the other 9/12's, im pretty sure that 9/12 is just a day to him as well. just sayin.

well, i do dribble, said that a few entries ago, before my new white jacket came along, and ive got a really exciting day planned. i whacked my bush last nite so now all my pants will fit better. im so excited for tonight y'all. i aint been on a date in frickin YEARS, and i aint gotta pay or nuthin!

mud in the tub- hack on the back (11/10/10)

dear diary,

damner. that's all i got to say about that. D.A.M.N.E.R. and whoa JEFFREY DAHMER.

so. anyway. while you were away i learned something and that's prolly what all the smell was outside. becky jumps into the bathtub and stays in the bathtub and sits in the water and lays down in the water and really does not have much desire to get out of the bathtub until every last drop (like maxwell house) of water is out of the tub and even then she sits there wondering why her perfect little ass is still warm. i have a feeling that its going to be a struggle taking a bath by myself from now on. the strangest part was the grump. i know he has autism, mice can have it, i know he has it, ive accepted that, and knowing this helps, yet doesn't explain anything. at all. ok. there is nothing i can do do MAKE him bite ME except ONE thing (now someone else he will bite for lesser thing, but me, no) the only thing he will TRULY snap on me for is TAUNTING him about the prospect of a bath, and an INSTANT reaction if i pick him UP wile saying "bath" lol, but why does he get so angry when becky is obviously enjoying her bath? i had no part in putting her into the tub, i suggested it, so for him to sit there and challenge me with the verbal force and communicate to me how hostile he will become once i remove myself from the bathtub was just insane. and that's what i told the old shitass as i threw a glass of water on his hack and told him his carpet was wet. he didn't like that very much as he went through the doggy door back growling under his breath the whole way. becky just looked up at me and smiled, "i love you my lil girl," i said, and she bit me on my hand lol

new help wanted ad (11/10/10)

dumb whore lookin to expand business, easy to look at, doesn't smell anymore, not currently broke out, no court appointments for a month, all blood work current and negative, no appointments until after noon if possible, no alcohol, marlboro lights in a box only, hates McDonalds (except at 4am) likes bubble baths and mtv, doesn't go on city property, except the library, and civic center to pay the water bill, oops i mean payment, and loves red meat and milk. will not eat at the olive garden, ever, in a million years ever, or applebees.
looking for a fat, easy-going, toothless (preferably) married, homeless, career driven man- late forty's- early fifty's, with an std, to fill a huge gap left by an individual im just having a hard time living without. i can deal with porn and video games and sexual addictions, put prefer no anal at this time. thanks for reading. if you do reply, put no buttfucker in the subject line so i know ur real. xoxoxo

we need more mr. bubble (11/10/10)

DEAR diary,

so im that person. i sawl the commercial of the fat lady in the drive thru running over the curb to go home and make hamburger hailper- bitch im there. i went to the dairy queen in south shores and waited for the puffy hand to fly in the window with the skillet of steaming goo, and while that never happened, there were no curbs to run over either, but i am gettin ready to eat me a big ole maxi heapin pile of hamburger hailper cheesy harshbrowns and sum chocolate swissmiss pudding mixed together DUH and sum strawlberry milk in a frosty glass mug glass with a strawl, and omg the grumpy GOAT ate some of my sandwich RITE FROM MY HAND YESTERDAY i am sure its cuz he sawl becky do it and its fine if becky does it cuz she dunno no better yet BUT HE DOES, HE IS 49 NOW and damn.that's stupid. at least it wasn't a big bite, that's why they PROLLY farted the rest of the evening i am so sure. so i hate wednesday's on the boob tube- they suck- thinking a bath and a game of CALL OF DUTY might do the trixie. 360 and mr bubble are sweet till you run out of water and that'll piss a bitch off inna NY minute. gets cold quick when the dogs start lickin ya and yer feeter hangin over the side and you kill somebody and start cheerin and splash and here they come to check and take ur vitals again, lick lick, gets rather annoying, makes a person wish they'd go away but then you'd be alone killing alone, online, with strangers, and what flavor blasted goldfish the prisoners didn't eat.

hollywood secrets (and crimes)

dear mexican diary,

maria is here and she is sitting down watching the price is right and i am not one to complain, i like the show too- but only when i know someone on it. otherwise, it bores me. i watch it and take diligent notes when its time to go out there tho, but i dunno, the magic has kindof worn away for me. i like doing the line and being with all the excited people- but when it comes time to do the actual show- i think next time- i will skip that. i think they are 'on' to me anyway. last time i went the show started half an hour late and i think it was because they were 'lookin me up.' ever since my last appearance- the whole protocol has changed. they do everything different now. they even take your picture while your in line. that's some freaky shit when the red jackets come at you with a digital camera. and you wonder why stanley the producer doesn't remember you when you get up there to talk to him. i remember everything about him. i remember his eyes and his smile and his lips and his teeth and his posture and his feet and his waist and his chest and his neck and his shoulders and the sound of his voice. i remember the way he swung his arms around and the way he laughs and how he looks you in the eye, and the tiny beads of sweat on his brow. i remember what he smells like. i remember his shoeboots. i remember his ass- and i remember thinkin, 'i bet he smokes grass." i liked the way he put his foot up when he sat down- a sign of confidence- which he had at all times. you could tell he liked his penis- and i prolly woulda liked it too- but that is to remain between me and you.

20 months and 4 days till i can smoke weed again YAY

dear mourning friendly cocka roaches diary,

one day closer to thursday and one day closer to death. i checked on the full moon- it is fryday. the first day of the rest of your life. whatcha doooin twoday? depressed? me too. maria is coming in a coupla hours and ima hafta get up. my world is fittin to change again. oh what an upset. bankers hours ain't for me- but it will appease others. and it is a temporary measure. till the addiction fades- or they quit paying me. i will admit- the new carpet will be nice- and the ice machine- i am to be spoiled. rat turds always were my favorite cube. crickets in a camp lamp it is almost time to get up again. i better get back to sleep before the alarm rings and we all have to wake up. i still think about your eyes when the mourning time comes, but i am not sad, not about you anyways.

push and pull

dear looking at my fingers diary,

i woke up because i couldn't stand wondering what my fingernails looked like anymore. were they pretty? i had taken all the polish off in the dark- buffed them down- and then put cuticle wax all in them- but what was the end result? i never did getta see. the suspense was killing me. almost as bad as after i had liposuction and couldn't take that thing off for a week. omg- and what a long itchy week that was. fucking i about died. it almost killed me. i will never forget it. so i got up and looked at my naked fingernails and they are specfuckingtacular. i love the length they are now. i examined them under a very bright light for any tiny cracks or imperfections- and found none. the state of my nail unions are fine. after a full night of air and a hot soak tomorrow in the bath and a picky cleaning- they will be painted again with several luxurious coats of polish followed by a diamond hard fast dry top coat- assuring the most perfect paint job- and once again my ten little jewels will be ready for action. as far as liposuction- i am always ready for more of that.

whores on horses

dear it started in the middle diary,

and it drove me out of my mind. i just kept tryin to get a little better- a little better than before. once again quiet i have the house all to myself- its so nice and peaceful- like everyone moved out. i feel like i am alone living secluded high in the mountains- under the stars lighting my house like candle fountains. not one single visitor- not a text message either- no lick from becky or a growl from the grumpy old geezer- i feel like laura ingalls wilder in her little house on the prairie- cept i got water in my ceramic sink and electricity. and then some dumb ass loud fucking vehicle with a hole in the exhaust will go by- and remind me- we don't use horses in this life. which i think would be fun to take to the store- and prevent more women from being traveling whores.

dogs with autism can be smart

dear getting bit diary,

the window is open behind me and i can feel the wind ON my neck and i love the way it feels back there so i put my hair up to feel it better. now i am ugly sitting on the couch but nobody is looking at me, and becky just bit me 65 times and ran off like a coward. she will return and i will bite her and see how she likes that shit and she will insist on sayin sorry and all that crap- she will snuggle up to my neck and i'll give in and we'll kiss and everything will be back to normal. i know she was playin- as i will be too- but that is no excuse. to sink her teeth into my fingers and arms and wrist 65 times is ridiculous. why i just sat there and let her gnaw on me- you will hafta ask me later- i was and still am confused and amazed at this new behavior. the grump has to've been schooling her and giving her new ideas- because she could never have come up with this solo- not in a million years. becky didn't even know she had teeth- let alone that she could use them- to bite my on my hand or use them to try and abuse with them. i know the grump is behind this, prolly because we had intimate contact- he prolly wants to sleep with me again- in case i trip and fall on his dick. he sees me touching becky all the time and thinks he can just wiggle on in- I WILL NEVER TOUCH HIS WIENER THO- EVER NEVER AGAIN.

Amy Tan on creativity | Video on TED.com

Amy Tan on creativity Video on TED.com

save a man from drowning- you're responsible for him for life

beef plate momma

dear dog show diary,

i ain't gunna be there for that, it seems. not this year anyway. ima go someday tho. i think in my previous life- i was a dog. for years- i used to howl and bark at every passing dog along the road- inside a car or with a walker- or even running at large or my favorite- behind a fence. some people get pissed OFF when you bark at their dogs inside the moving car in traffic. fuck them- i think they are jealous- fuck no i wasn't barking at you bitch- i was barking at your dog. all dogs love me. well- all except my old pot dealers standard poodle. that mother fucker was brain damaged from all the marijuana it had been forced to smoke since before birth. i walked in once to their house and it bit me right on my ass- that fucker had jaws of a pit bull- it would not let go. i can even remember the date- it was april 1st y'all- but this was no joke. i fuckin swung my ass around and that poodle i began to choke. pam- was my girls name- she was laughing like insane- and i was getting very upset- my butthole was in pain. i got that dog offa me- and not a minute to soon- and i got the hell out of there with a hole in my bum. then i got pulled over with plates that didn't match the car- but the VIN number was only two digits different form my other car- and the cop didn't notice- but he noticed my hole but not the weed or my plates or the insurance for the other car. i was nervous- my butt was showin- i had a story from hell- but my ass was still bleeding and he could tell. he let me go and i sped right on home- got out my bag and got real blown. fuck i hate poodles to this very day- it was stupid to get pot so far from home anyway. i don't have either of those cars anymore- but it was fun switching plates back and forth like a whore.

rebound that basketball

dear picky picky diary,

she's thin. i'm fat. she was really fat. mommy is old. you want someone just perfect to insult and tie to your basement table later. you can't forgive anyone. you live in a world all your own. i wish a well breasted bar whore would come along and cheer you if only for a moment- if it hits your brain you will realize its in your lifestyle- what holds you apart from cuntface mommy. it doesn't have to be a big secret anymore- nobody even cares- nobody even cares who sucks your dick anymore nobody cares that you cum- in six seconds.

SHEEBA- YOU BITCH

dear fucking i am pissed off diary,

sitting on top of the world was a great feeling UNTIL SHEEBA GOT THROUGH THE LINES. you know- i knew it was gunna fucking happen when i posted it whila go. i jinxed it, i did and now i feel like a IDIOT and not very damn special at all- SHEEBA PICKED UP HER PHONE AND SHEEBA FUCKING CALLED. NOW SHE GOT THROUGH ON THE SAME SHOW AS I- AND THAT HAS NEVER EVER HAPPENED- OH I AM SO PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW.... Y'ALL DON'T EVEN KNOW I FEEL LIKE SLAPPIN. I COULD DRIVE DOWN SOUTH AND BEAT HER ASS AND I WOULD IF I KNEW HER ADDRESS. THE ONLY REASON I KNOW HER TOWN IS BECAUSE I HAVE STALKED HER- I CONFESS. SHE SENDS NANCY GIFTS FOR HER TWINS AND NANCY PUT HER PICTURE ON THE TV. AND SHEEBA CALLS AT LEAST 4 TIMES A WEEK AND IT REALLY IRRITATES ME. I WOULD KNOW HER VOICE EVEN IF SHE SAID HER NAME WAS TERRY- THAT FUCKIN BITCH ASKS THE DUMBEST SHIT- I WANT TO KILL HER.

SHEILA VS SHEEBA (IN ILLINOIS)

dear bombshell tonight diary,

caller number one on nancy grace on valentines night OH WHAT AN UPSET.... nancy looks like an angel tonight all dressed in red- a mom and a baby in a dumpster dead- the other bitch just called me SHEEBA she did. omfg i fixin to snap. i hope sheeba is blowing fire out her nostrils- because nancy took my call through all the busy signals. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, sheeba you ain't so bad ass after all. i better just shut up tho before you get on- that would piss me off- i would come to carbondale and find you and beat your ass.

no name on this oops

dear it might be a nasty divorce diary,

we believe the scar on my leg was caused on the day of the wedding. it was from his teeth. the infection set in and caused madness. it has been over twenty years since the photo was taken, since the bite was made, and i think the bride had a real fear of her new beautiful husband, in fact i know she did. her legs were sore for some time after that day, and night especially. she didn't brag out loud, but she knew the marriage was strong in at least one area. it was legendary. sometimes this powerful relationship caused a deafening ringing in the ears- making it difficult to choose correctly. mistakes haunting yet today- slapping the face at the most inopportune times- reminding of a life not even lived in- anymore. the divorce wasn't nasty- not nasty at all. quick and painless- unlike the exit from the home. but after years of making the responsibility each of their own- time had seen fit to renew again- the love between those two friends.

meetloafers meating me

dear eating the shit out of peanuts and cashews lately diary,

nuts are good. i can almost understand why squirrels and other small rodents crave them so. but tonight us humans are having meatloaf again because mommy whore cant seem to get her mind off of the shit. right now i keep putting the lid back on the jar of peanuts- like somehow it will keep me from getting more. i tried to sleep most of the dreadful day away- holiday or not- it's still monday. nothing good ever does come on a monday- so i rested, then rested some more. prince harry is puking again. he can keep his hands out of my nuts. someone needs to do the dishes before maria gets here tomorrow. she will lay an egg when she peeps down at all the kitchen floor cracks i did. oh mercy they were something to behold. if i just could have been paid by the ounce. tomorrow we will be one day closer to thursday. i need to see when the next full moon will be. i know it's coming up- i just can't remember the date. i'll check on that directly.

i am ashamed ( i washed my hands quickly)

dear waking up holding the grump diary,

i went to sleep holding becky tightly against my chest. she made her little grunt noise- so i knew she was there for the whole rest. i never once changed position- and unbeknownst to me- somewhere along the peaceful nap- the canines played a trick on me. whose idea it was- we will never know- i am sure it was not becky's tho- she would never go- not willingly anyway- not after she made her precious sigh- but i woke up with the grump in my arms and my hands- well- you might be as shocked as i. how he gets me to put them there- i haven't a clue- but somehow God willing- that is where i always seem to. it comes as quite a shock when i wake up in that area, but my hand went over his weenie and it sent me into hysteria. omfg i touched my dogs weenie again, how does that always happen to me- somebody turn me in. i don't deserve this wild beast sleeping in my bed. what if someday i wake up and try to give him head. 

breaking news now

dear calling around diary,

whatever future you have- its yours- do not try and make it someone elses. i saw a deer jump off a balcony in my dream last night and land on its feet- you should be so lucky. the man that jumped from the window facing in wasn't. i have never lived where someone died. can you hear them at night? is is weird? are there allot of cock roaches there? what is that like? to live in a castle and move to a cell. do you have a pet yet? is there allot of anger in your heart? who is the anger directed towards? i have a good idea sweetheart. it is time for you to think about forgiving yourself. it is time for you to move on. it is time for you to get some balls and turn your muscle on. why don't you be the one to do what you know what really needs to be done. yeah, you made your mistakes, but you didn't make them on your own. you can still come out on top of this- there is no doubt in my mind, both men in black saw through that witch- her words ain't about shit. take back what you want from your life- what you worked so hard to secure- make that bitch pay for the shit that is yours. don't just lay down and give up. you're better than that. even if i have to hate you- please stop hating yourself.

shoot to kill- he smoked a white owl

dear getting off work finally diary,

calling all working girls man. i know someone who needs a blow job and it'll be a quickie. tell him you love him while he's cummin and he'll tip you extra- prolly- the fucking cheap ass. someone needs to set his ass up and claim the crimestopper money. i think we might be smokin cigarettes now- marlboro lights in a box maybe. mr tough cool guy. fucker smoked some dope with me at the sun & fun swim club- but he took a piss test for the unibomber after that- so i dunno bout droppin him now- he was real dumb actin on the green. wouldn't want to see him trying to be a hero on the blunt. now that first shift has come to an end and we getta putter on back to skid row in the church van- maybe we should pick up some pussy on packard and see about a quick granola before a valentine nap.  not a safe day today- unless you wear a raincoat. cuntface get her bloodtest back yet? ahahahahahahhahahahaahhahaahhaahhahhahahhahahhahahaahhahahahaahhahahahhahahahahhahahahahahah ahahahhahahahahahahhahahahhahahahahhhaahahahahaahhahahhahahhahahahahhahahahhahahahhahhahhaha
fucking sucks don't it?
still want a truce?

cheap candy and soft lead

dear saint valentine day diary,

having and candy and chocolate and shit is always better the day after valentine's day because all the shit is half price- or cheaper- and there is only like two damn pieces that are wortha damn anyway in a whole ASSorted box- in any case- i will be the one NOT eating chocolate today- and first in line tomorrow for all the shit that is left- so eat shit. the rabbit done died. ima take the high road. i am disappointed in you for reading all these stupid blogs. cant you find one better? the switch is gone. i cant make it up to you. i cant get my head out of your ass. you are totally fucked forever and you wanted it this way. you asked for it. hey listen, your boss, how hairy is he? bring shame upon the family? guess who is back in the picture? wanna get auto erotic? where is the mystery here? you want a fine line? got a pencil dick?

it's a phallus alice

dear eating nuts and making cashew butter in my mouth diary,

how yummy i find this pleasure- the smashing action between my teeth. there is a fundamental reason we were blessed with teeth- i think it was to chew nuts. did you do it? i did. i took the money. i did not need any change. it was all there as you promised it would be. i have become a part of a secret underground railroad, sometimes you must throw an elbow to get your needs met. the train station gets crowded at times- threatening to leave everyone behind- but the train ain't supposed to be leaving the station- before its scheduled time. please don't watch me while i am sleeping- it does creep me out you know- whisper when you speak in my ear- let me feel your breath on my bare shoulder. i can trace back my memory to the first time i loved you. it was even before the first time i met you- but for sure after our first kiss. now i've got an ice cream cone tight within my clutch and i am loving licking it very very much. something really funny happens whenever i eat something frozen. and believe me i could eat popsicles by the dozen- and each and every one wold look exactly the same- like a phallus. i don't even mean to do this- to shape a frozen treat like that- but it happens every time- and when i notice- i hurry and smash it flat. sometimes i have to bite it off because popsicles don't really smash that good.

high guys

dear working hard on the table diary,

why is everyone always laughing at me? i can't help it that i couldn't wait to pee. someday maybe you'll get old and wait to long to leave YOUR chair- just wait til then i hope i can return the favor and STARE. you know you ain't so pretty with your ass hanging out of your pants- and look at that booger sloppin over your lip over there. and what about that chin crust- mister- and omg- what about YOU? holding hands with your fuckin sister? i seen you on the baby raper list- say another word and i will make a fist. fuck you all- you ain't NO PRIZE so suck my fucking dick- all of ya- every fucking one of you cuntfaces make me sick.