tough loVe

dear whatever diary,

prince harry just thinks he can do whatever he wants. ima beat him. somebody needs to. ever since we unchained him from his bed he has been acting like that. you know, i was all for two more years, but everyone kept sayin it was cruel and unusual. which, incidentally, it was NOT cruel in anyway- he had four inches of sunlight in each window of that room AND fresh air from the fans. i always kept is pots cleaned out and he usually had water. so yes- i would say it was UNUSUAL if he didn't have water because USUALLY he did. we let him have the tv up until you had to have the cable run to it. he ain't allowed to have no cords in his room. the tv runs on rechargeable batteries. the dogs still don't go in there- we think it's the memory of it all. he's a good kid on the count of how we parent him. but now he thinks he can do whatever he wants again. time to get out the chains. 

look at ME now

dear this is going here diary,

now that i know how to use the whole website- i can make any picture my background. that is so exciting. i guess i could have been had any picture this whole time (like everybody else) but i never took the time to learn how. i just picked from the list and settled for less (like i always do) and that was that. it was okay for awhile- but now- i want more. ain't that how it always is? i betcha i change my shit all the time now, like my fingernail polish. in the future- ima have bob hope's hand prints and my toes and cbs and plants and dead things and my collection of fingernail polish and who knows what else- so YAY! it'll be a cruel summer... 

i've cHanGed

dear anything goes here diary,

man, what a night. some things will never change. that's just the way it is. the piano of thought in my mind sounds like a keyboard typing the words. the school of thought- a lecture. these dogs are insane. what a stubborn old grump we have here. a pillar of resentment. ah.. to be closer to the monkey. looking up, i see the light- shining upon the hanging monkey feet- enticing i must admit- even for me. make a wish- and our love will make it come true. the 12 year old in me- longs to turn the ceiling fan on just to see the monkey fall off. the 8 year old in me- wants to somehow wire the monkey to the fan and watch him swing around all night- maybe adding other dog toys to the other blades for even more dog teasing fun. then to place a kong on top of all door frames and pictures and wait for someone to ask why i've done that- of course over the grumps continuous round of barking 'for no reason.' if becky wasn't here- we would still be having all that kind of fun like we used to- but i cant do that shit anymore. i love her.

men without balls

dear you always said we'd still be friends,

i touch you once, i touch you twice, and i paid the biggest fucking price. but if you leave, please look back. let's dance. put on your red shoes and dance to the blues-under the moonlight. the moonlight of your lies that burn in a fire. burning down the house- anyone's house but yours. i'm the last person to figure out the meaning of what i write, but i know most everything is true. would anyone jump in the water to save you?  i would. are we- are we- are our ourselves? i am.

oPen and ready to witness

dear you don't have to come back diary,

i may not be dressed, but i am awake again and ready for my first customer. step right up. it'll take me a minute to quit yawning- for shits sake- but i will come around. i smelled the roast cooking and quickly realized- it wasn't morning- it was night. i am ready for a potato and some meat. i missed six text messages- four relating to work and my second absence, and the other two from each of my boys. i must have either clenched my teeth or slept on my ear lobe folded over in half- my right ear is throbbing. bad. i forgot friday came after saturday- and i forgot night was coming and i forgot people gather and socialize on saturday nights and i forgot it was supposed to be a safe saturday night- but then last sunday was supposed to be a safe day and it wasn't- so you never know who mighta took a vacation to grow older this week.

clone YOURSELF-uh

dear collectively bargaining diary,

i ain't going there. not with you. not with her. not with him. not with them. the bass is to high on the tv again and is making my eardrums itch. i'll go back to my point earlier. you wasted all that time convincing everyone you thought you were better than everyone else, when the whole time you knew nothing about anything you ran your mouth about leaving everyone in a worse position to compromise on the ultimate decision because what they thought they knew- they didn't- because everything you told them was false and we all believed you- which now we know was the wrong thing to do- but with that said now- is yet just another waste of time. being further behind than where we were in the beginning is where we actually are now- but i am stupid and you just stand there- ready to tell us more. fuck that. turn the tv off. missing something? do you think someone else wants to learn from you? overhaul. you are fucking ate up and dug out. you are addicted to something- the smell of your own breath blowing back into your face. it is a little bit funny. i wanna be like you.

child of the garden Gods

dear i haven't been tired once diary,

now that is really something, considering i have been up for almost three hours now. i am declaring today 'awake day,' for me anyway. i have always dreamed of having my own apple orchard. i know that sounds stupid, but i love apples. i want to make cider and pies and applesauce and jelly and jam and bake them and fry them and make bread and make heads for little people like my uncle did- and there is just so much you can do with an apple. you can just stew an apple and it is the best thing you ever had in your life. fucking apples man- who knew. peaches are the same way- but you gotta be a garden God to grow them bitches. talk about persnickety. temperamental litttle bitches. ima just buy them bitches by the trunkful. my relatives grow them fuckers. plus they go bad so fast- you gotta be in the mood to work them up as soon as you get ahold of them- or you are fucking stupid. don't misunderstand me tho- my love for peaches runs deep, so very deep, but you can do so much more with apples- if given the choice between owning an orchard of peaches or apples- i would have to choose the apples. but maybe a couple of peach trees would be sweet.

cleaning till THE END

dear tweedle dee dee diary,

what are you doing? i am watching i love lucy and eating turkey sausage links and listening to becky skin a tennis ball. milk is so good. i thought about pulling out and sweeping behind the snake tank tonight- if i do- i will snap a picture for you guys- i know she will come out. it is really dusty back there- i am in the mood to remove dust. that's what the bucket of water was all about last night. i did the window ledge on the south wall and above the door and the magic mirror. fuck that thing was dirty. once i do the west window and behind the tank- i will be in pretty good shape. i'll have prince william run the heater register covers and return vents to the car wash next time he returns for a visit. i am so ready for spring. i am. omg. omg. omg. our next to the last one too. if the mayans are correct.

my BaBy

dear timestamp diary,

this picture was taken in 2006, right after i made my big stupid mistake. i saw it and it took me by surprise- the time has gone away. my son no longer sucks his thumb- he's gunna kill me when he sees that- but seeing my son at this tender age reminds me of what i was doing then. i made promises to this young man- that things were going to change. that he was going to live a life where we would never rearrange again. i told him i had found someone that he could be so proud- i told him that he would teach him things and love him in a crowd. then this guy scooped him up and told him the very same things- told him there would be so much without any strings. he let him wear his helmet and slide down the pole- and sit on all the trucks- he was an awesome guy to know. this little dude was sensitive- he had more feelings than other guys his age- but the new guy his mommy knew explained how he was still on the right page. so now that young man has grown up into big young man- and no longer sucks his thumb- his mom no longer knows someone and is no longer dumb.

butch nuBs

dear waking up and available for contact diary,

that my good people was a nap worth writing about. sure the day is gone, but shit- days will come again. a nap like that is priceless. i better not even yawn until at least 4PM now or ima snap. i broke another nail. i'm kinda glad too. it was the perfect time to do it. my thumb this time- on my pretty hand. that's three now. i just don't understand at all the science behind that shit. for as long as i can even remember- in fact- the last time i filed my nails THIS short was october 19th after court- WHEN I DIDN'T GO TO JAIL- (i was gunna do my time with some pretty fucking nails) so ever since then- i haven't broken not ONE nail- and now- i bring them ALL back down again- to short little butch nubs- and break THREE. i hate short nails. i do. oh and my toes are JUST as short. i must admit tho- it does feel better down there. my pictures sure do look better in the living room. i even washed the big mirror. last night when i pulled the couch out- the grump found becky's monkey toy and tried to take it over. it was hard getting it back from him and i had nowhere to put it- so i rested the baby monkey on the blade of the ceiling fan. now he keeps looking up- and i keep wondering why. maybe if i cut his fingernails he will forget about the baby monkey or go crawl back in my bed and take another nap.

goodnight CHUCKY xooxxoxo

dear gave it my best shot diary,

i am taking a nap. ain't no two ways about it. i had a great handle on things- i had a plan. then it all fell down. it is okay tho. no worries. i'll be okay- as long as i don't dream about the goat again. i spent practically all night with him last night- but it was a platonic dream- thankfully- so i woke up relieved at that. it sucks to run around and be ashamed and hide from myself all day and have that sick feeling. i do not want to fuck that man- i don't care how many times i dream about doing it- i wouldn't fuck him if i tripped and started bobbing up and down on his dick i wouldn't fuck him. i wouldn't. i would shovel out my woman parts and burn them in the road before that would happen- let's just get that good and straight right now. nope. not me. never. so everytime i dream about having relations with him- it really makes me wanna puke. but i am fine now- so ima take a nap and not dream about the goat or his penis. eww.

practicing to wake up

dear switch 'em up diary,

i had all kinds of shit to do yesterday and woke up tired as a dog- and today i woke up with enough energy to paint the house- but we all know that doesn't mean shit- i could be out of gas in eleven minutes- but right now i am flying high and loving it. hellow. nice to meat you. well- there was my first yawn. i was afraid it wouldn't last long. it never does. now the second yawn. it's all downhill from here. ima fight it tho. i can win this one. third yawn, extra large- i still think i can do this. you guys, the sun is up- the window is open- i swear i want to stay awake today. i want to clean out the bathroom cabinet and throw all my old bullshit away and wax the floor while prince harry is still gone. forth and fifth yawns- back to back- shit this ain't looking good at all. i am not giving up on the idea. maybe if i drink some grape/cherrry juice and brush my teeth things will improve. it's so damn hard to wake up around this place. i need a marching band. maybe if i rested for just a few more hours before i got up for real. yawn.

ain't no laws against 'stawking'

dear teaching the children diary,

even the youngest child should know how to stawk. they should know the difference between stalking and stawking. i was the one who got to teach all three of these kids a lifelong lesson. i did a really great job. we all laughed and laughed as we drove by with the window down- i had a tear coming from the corner of my eye from all the hard laughing. they wanted to know when we could do it again- and i realized i might have started something. i was really surprised how the youngest one took to me. i've already spent time with the one lil girl- but the boys- you never know with boys. it's all good. we had smiles from ears to the other ears and foreheads to the chins- all grins. i love good kids. i miss my kids being little- but i am sure glad they are big.

peein' in the parkin' Lots

dear i have always wondered these things that bothered me and just never had anybody to talk to about it until now and i feel comfortable finally after 491 posts diary,

so, high there. it is night time and dark outside and i think the perfect time to talk about things that are embarrassing to people and i really don't want to shine a light on anyone so i thought maybe now would be the perfect time to say that SHITTING IN PUBLIC IS UNACCEPTABLE AND IS SOMETHING EVERYONE SHOULD DO IN THE PRIVACY OF THEIR OWN FUCKING HOME- thank you- because every time i need to pee- i just cant believe how gawd awful the bathroom smells. i am absolutely concerned for the shitters health- so much so- when i was at the doctors office last time i stole 265 stool sample cups and left them at my work place. i know someone shitting in the women's restroom on sunday evening has ASS CANCER. between you and me- i will die before i shit in public- or at your house. i wont shit if i come for a visit- what if your fucking toilet broke down- not on MY fucking turd it wont. you best buhuhlieve that. i will and must confess however, on january 2, 1995 at or around 10:30AM i couldn't hold it anymore. we were in florida- at disneyworld- at the bathrooms closest to the front gate. i shit THE biggest turd i have ever shit in my entire fucking life. i guess i am sayin, emergencys happen- but mine sure didn't stink.

they ARE NOT human (really)

dear all he does is lick anymore diary,

the floor- his arm- his butthole- the floor again- becky's ear- the kong- a different kong- his nuts- my leg- my other leg- his leg- his finger- the vacuum cord- his water bowl- the car keys- the phone book- any book- my shoe- the kitchen chair- the mailbox- a car tire- a coat hanger wire- a pantie hose- wait.... pantie hose? where in the fuck did my dog get some pantie hose? it matters only because i don't want my DOG ingesting that nylon type shit- it'll kill him. maybe he wants to die. do you think dogs know if they are happy or not? i know my dogs are the happiest dogs in the world. they both love to have their pictures taken too. i take them all the time. i catch them in the funniest positions and often send them to my unsuspecting friends. i admit now, sending one to old cuntface was in poor taste, but i just wanted her to kinda see that my dog had bigger balls than her husband.....




no blood this time

dear cuticles on my tshirt diary,

one way to get length back on your nails is by eating away on the cuticles. i could have made an entire cuticle and jelly sandwich with the meat i got off tonight- and now all of a sudden i have long nails again. as soon as i stand up all this shit will fall on the floor- and i will have to bust the vacuum out or the grump will fucking find it and go nuts. he loves fingernails and skin. he is nasty. what a nasty dog he is. he is in there fighting with becky right now- i have screamed at them six times- it doesn't do any good. when i turn on the sweeper- if i don't pass out- one of them will attack the fucking thing. if i do pass out- who knows what will happen. hopefully i don't hit my head. don't sweat it- i don't cut on myself often.

OMG I AM SO SMARTUH

dear who do you think you are diary,

keeping score is something i have always been good at, even when i don't have any paper. i remember shit for a long time buddy. guaranteed- long after you have forgotten. that is why ending friendship the adult way has become important to me. i have done it every single way that there is possible- to end a relationship- and the best way is to just do it. avoiding it works for for a little bit. it is true if you quit feeding something- eventually it will die. right? yes, unless it is getting food somewhere else. then it will just prolly loose weight from not eating twice as much. that should have been the first sign.

angry little woman

dear people at work missed me tonight diary,

isn't that cute. i got messages and calls all night from people at work telling me what was happening and who was talking about me not showing up tonight. it ain't even my regular night to work- so why anyone even thought i would show up is beyond my comprehension- prolly cuz i've been there like the last five friday's. i don't much care for maryanne tho- since she played that little game with that money on me while back- that ticked me off. i came in and gave her a hundred at the window and i told her when i earned enough- i wanted to come get that one back from her cuz it was special- i told her why- cuz it had a 'D' and a '464664469' in the serial number on the fucking note. she agreed- laughed- cuz i told her i'd had that hundred for a spell- i wanted to keep it- but- you know how it is- i spent the bitch. well- bout an hour later i got a big tip from a customer- and went back up and ask maryanne to buy it back. do you know what that bitch said to me? "we don't sell them hundred dollar bills back," she says to me all snappy. and i was like, "OH NO YOU JUST DIDN'T," and she says, "nope- that's how it's always been." so rather than stand there and ARGUE with the red haired bitch- i just looked at her square in the eyeballs and i said, "well marryanne, i just wont BRING you anymore HUNDRED DOLLAR BILLS," and walked off. i can NOT stand people like that. i let my friend Karma handle them for me. it always works out better in the end.

hurt my body- hurt my soul

dear why people come diary,

two thousand years ago what did people do on a friday night? if i get one more tweet from charlie sheen- ima shut my phone off. i cant even make a damn phonecall- which is fucking funny CUZ I DONT MAKE PHONECALLS- and the first time i do- i'm interrupted by what? A CHARLIE TWEEN 'FASTBALL SHEET' ima shut his forwards off- i don't need that shit on my phone. i am bored with him- i think everyone is. ima have to start wearing gawd damn body armor now- the unibomber is throwing shit at me. i like him less and less by the fucking minute. i ask myself 'why' more and more and i get the same fucking answer, "cuz you're a worthless fucking whore," and here i sit. day after day, saying the same things over and over to myself- watching everyone else correct their mistakes while i keep living mine. i think sometimes, "well, it ain't so bad," but it is that bad- or is it.

don't forget the cheeZe

dear 123 front street diary,

i would go to japan and do everything i can to help them people clean up that mess. i would love to. i even have the boots. i can follow directions well. i can mop and talk and keep the spirits high. give me a rag and a bucket and i'll do that until someone comes by and tells me to shut up and go home. even if they cant understand a word i am saying- the language of happiness is universal- and even in a time of total somber and grief- a smile can lift a million hearts.

wonder what else she knows then

dear michael row your boat ashore diary,

omg that was the BESTEST dinner. mexican people can throw down. all you have to do is put it in your mouth and chew. i like that in food. when you hafta doctor shit up to make it tasty- man- does that take the fun out of eating or what? shovel that shit in and swallow. hail to the yes. and onions- wow. that's what i am talking about. i love onions. i usta hate onions- but when i met my biological mom- she told me i was gunna love them one day- and eighteen years later- i do. oh shit- it's almost the anniversary of our meeting. we met march 13, 1992. it was a friday. it is hard to believe it's now almost nineteen years- but counting on my fingers- making it almost twice back on both hands- that's what it is. thinking i've known her longer than the mother who raised me- pains me in ways i cant even try and put into words- because i don't even know that woman- yet i know who she is. so that's weird. once you know who someone is- you can't not know, yet- you never really know anyone. but i KNEW my mom who raised me, or at least i thought i did. she sure did know me. i couldn't get away with SHIT. my birth mother doesn't know shit about me- except- she was right- i did end up likiing onions- nineteen years later.

don't ax me again

dear somebody needs to remind me diary,

i do not ever want my fingernails pink again. k? some people like pink- i do not. eww. pink pink pink. i don't ask allot of questions anymore. i know i should but i don't and i want to, but i think it is the answers i am so scared of- so refraining from asking questions is one certain way of avoiding things you might not want to find out- so i quit asking. seems like its working so far. i don't know what i have missed out on. nobody has come blazing forward with some revelation about what i have failed to realize yet- so i dunno- ima keep doing it. i quit trying to figure out who is telling the truth and who is lying too- because even in the court of law- it don't matter. that was supposed to be the place where only the truth was to be heard- well- not so much. the truth don't seem to matter- so you go with what you know. all i know is i hate pink on my fingernails- for to the shore.

who can it be now?

dear put your head on my shoulder diary,

but preferably after you wash your hair. or wait. it could be this blanket stinking. something stinks. is it you? is it me? is it things we can not see? i thought about going to work. i ain't tho. i ain't. i don't care how much overtime pays. no amount of money is worth getting up. no amount of money is worth getting dressed. no amount of money is worth leaving my house. i want to stink all night- with my dogs. i know that is what smells- because i do not smell like that. good grief. nobody alive could smell like that. besides, look at the time. ima get on nancy grace tonight. sheeba is one show up on me and two pictures. i am in no hurry to send in a photo of myself, that much is true, especially claiming to be SICK. altho- i have been feeling dumpy lately- maybe nancy would tell me to CHEER UP? that is wrong on just so many levels. i'll leave that for you guys to explore later on your own tho- i just cant muster up the courage to do it now. becky is steady at the window. she is waiting for something to happen. i wish for something to happen too. oh! we got something. the eyebrows are up.

just like her mommy

dearest diary,

the calls are simply flooding in, my help is needed at work. i am taking the night off to spend at home reflecting on all my shit on the floor and i am way to disturbed to work. i may never be the same again. seriously, i'll be fine- i just have a few adjustments to make. i promised to be back to my silly, stupid, carefree, sailf- and i am- i'm just twisted on the inside. one big whiff of the grumps famous ASS GAS and i will be so back to normal. the same people walk by my house at the same time everyday and the dogs wait at the window to bark at them. the mom and her three kids, one older and two younger, seem to look and wait for my dogs as much as my dogs wait for them. the oldest child, a girl, always runs and hollers as she passes my house, as if to alarm my dogs that the rest of them are soon to follow- which it always does. i would bet- if the oldest child were to simply walk by my house- my dogs wouldn't see her- OR the rest of her family and care less where they go- like everyone else that passes my house.



 

cross my heart (playtex 18hour bras i don't wear)

dear going back to bed diary,

i just ran out of gas again. and my eye is twitching. that sometimes happens when i get tired. no biggie. i didn't sleep worth a shit- so it was to be expected. the grump AND becky are already ahead of me- one is snoring- and you know which. the log master. he is looking so old lately. we all are i suppose. ain't nobody gettin any younger- except becky. damnit if she ain't perfect. hopefully when i get up i will have a whole fresh gooey mind of shit- because i don't want to dwell on those poor people all day. i haven't turned on the tv yet or nothing- just trying to avoid it. i feel guilty enough. when i wake up i promise to post about the same stupid shit i always post about- and much much more.

xoxoox

i like it anyways

dear now i don't know what else to even put in here diary,

there isn't much else on my mind today- i kinda don't have much to say. i have to clean my shit up around my area- and put my stuff away. i feel like eating mexican food- fajitas sound like something bad ass- but they make my hair stink- so afterwards- i'd have to take a bath. i am scheduled to go to the meat market today- to pick up our cut up cow. i have to take the truck tho- the whole thing wont go in the trunk. i borrowed my dads johnny cash cd- and i been listening to the shit out of that- i love that song big river so much- the words nearly gave me a heart attack. i cant believe anyone wrote something so perfectly- each word goes hand in hand- and with the little tune that's with it- it is the best song he has.

Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry,
And I showed the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky.
And the tears that I cried for that woman are gonna flood you Big River.
Then I'm gonna sit right here until I die.

I met her accidentally in St. Paul (Minnesota).
And it tore me up every time I heard her drawl, Southern drawl.
Then I heard my dream was back Downstream cavortin' in Davenport,
And I followed you, Big River, when you called.

Then you took me to St. Louis later on (down the river).
A freighter said she's been here but she's gone, boy, she's gone.
I found her trail in Memphis, but she just walked up the block.
She raised a few eyebrows and then she went on down alone.

Now, won't you batter down by Baton Rouge, River Queen, roll it on.
Take that woman on down to New Orleans, New Orleans.
Go on, I've had enough; dump my blues down in the gulf.
She loves you, Big River, more than me.

Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry, cry, cry
And I showed the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky.
And the tears that I cried for that woman are gonna flood you Big River.
Then I'm gonna sit right here until I die.

fricking useless

dear tossing and turning diary,

i just hate natural disasters. people will say there is all sorts of causes for them. it is all bullshit. floods are bullshit- hurricanes are bullshit- fires are bullshit- tornadoes are bullshit- landslides are bullshit- but earthquakes are about the biggest bunch of bullshit of all. could you even imagine? i tried- but i don't think i can. to be standing on top of an angry ground- no. i couldn't really imagine that. and if that wasn't bad enough, to then know what would most certainly follow- a water wall of destruction- oh my fucking goodness. there was no time to 'beat the clock.' i couldn't hardly sleep a wink last night- thinking of the pictures i saw broadcasted of the devastation those poor people in japan were going through. it's as if somehow i knew of a pending earthquake- and it's fucking with me bad. i know sometimes i give meanings to things that aren't really there- but if you go back and check the time on the posting- it was before it happened- i swear. it kept me up half the night- i tossed and turned and cried. what good is it to 'feel' or know anything- if the information can not be applied.

why why why why why

dear shake and bake diary,

oh my gawd. it is true. the supermoon is coming- on the full moon at that- and the stars are gunna slam together- metaphorically speaking (or am i?) and japan and china just got hit by earthquakes- and damn if i didn't feel them bitches coming last night- when the emotional tsunami wave hit my own home. i wont be able to sleep tonight- it's gunna keep me awake- but i couldn't have done anything- anything to prevent these earthquakes. my hair has grown two inches- just since i've begun this post. i am going to wipe the tears from my eyes and eat a piece of dry toast. i'm sorry i couldn't stop this from happening. i swear i could if i would have. i knew with the moon so close to the earth they said it could possibly happen. i am gunna throw up. the biggest one ever- it just said on the tv. i am sorry my friends across the sea- my heart is with all of you- each one of you. all my love...

fashion tipper

dear a weird wish list diary,

i ain't sure but i got a little note in a language here- hang on- i'll go get a copy for you- here it is now ok look .....

Qqdwqdsaas ascaassc fdrewe: gucci handbag medium (grey instead of black tho)  By Anonymous on i hate beer on 3/10/11

cuz i think i want that. look here- it's right here...... it sure is pretty.

http://handbagsandshoes.tk/Gucci/Shoulder-Bags-&-Totes_g22/Gucci-Grey-Ostrich-1973-Medium-Boston-Bag_p5480.html

oh shit... SHOUT OUT DESTINY (SORRY) lolololol get over it and that too

dear game on diary,

ho hum. i am squirmy. i wonder why that is. as it turns out, and this i did know, and i'll do my best to explain slowly sos people can understand with me, BACKGROUND:  charlie sheen calls himself a "warlock."  it just so happens i got a friend who is married to a guy who is a real live guy who just might be a "warlock," and EVERYBODY calls him that. my friends name is destiny. as a matter of fact, charlie sheen and destiny's husband would look JUST alike if CHARLIE would grow a beard and wear a cowboy hat and fuck my face whenever i come into the room. my warlock even smokes AND uses weird little words and makes strange noises constantly- you cant help but chant, "MAN!" while you're eating with him- or riding down the road. this dude is a funny mother fucker. so my phone just lit up with the new tweet from charlie- and i had to share it with destiny- because everytime he refers to himself as a 'warlock,' i of course think of her husband, (and him grabbing my head and fucking my face everytime he walks in the room- the sick mother fucker-wtf??) and after i sent the text i realized- omfg- it's 1AM- WINNING!

JUST DO IT

dear nancy grace diary,

what kind of love affair are you having with ms SHEEBA IN ILLINOIS? it bad enough she had to call in tonight ..............but then y'all had to put the SAME picture you put up last week on the dumb bitches birthday (feb 28) again tonight and wish her to GET WELL- after we all heard the bitch was JUST FINE. i am sick of hearing that bitch AND if i gotta start seeing her now- omg- and SHE JUST HAD BACK SURGERY LESS THAN A YEAR AGO... SHE IS LYING TO Y'ALL.

 
 STOP

SHEEBA

STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP SHEEBA STOP!!!

barefoot is still an option for a second date

dear thinkin it through some diary,

this sucks like all the other ones do. that is no way to start out. i ain't starting over. i never do. i fucking finish it up and make a new one. fuck it. i ain't got shit on my mind right now. i could prolly put something inside there- but i am happy with the shit that ain't there. i keep yawning- but i ain't tired. i am just glad to have toenails that match the moon- you know, short toenails clearly are much more comfortable than long ones. even tho they ain't as pretty to look at- i really don't even give a flying shit- i haven't seen them doing anything sexy for a couple of years now anyway- so oh well. i like having my toes sucked. oh wow. oh man. oh wow man. now- i just don't take my socks off. that is a scary thought. i wear socks every fucking day. i sleep in my socks. i have hair on my toes. lots of hair- dark, wiry, coarse, thick, matted, hair- on- in- and around my toes now. i'm almost too sexy for my boots.  

the stinky mattress

dear story of two sheets diary,

the two sheets spread apart, allowing whatever to slip between them. inch by inch- second by second-  the fabric takes in the shape of the unfamiliar. the intense stomach acid sometimes produces ass gasses and pump horrid smells into the air under the unsuspecting fabric sheets- causing a disturbance in pleasant air pressure verses the non pleasant air pressure- at this time, un-calculated and therefore yet to be recorded by mankind. the carbon dioxide mixes with water and becomes urine within secret cells in the fabric of the human body and will erupt into fecal matter also known as shit. now there is not enough sheets on the bed to absorb such an eruption, therefore the mattress must be relied upon for this job as well. the more carbon dioxide and water making urine- the greater the smell. eventually the two sheets will drift apart- but meet again in the washer. nothing can help now. nothing but a new mattress.

i just laid an egg i think prolly it has been a long time coming

dear i feel one coming diary,

omg, it is the lucky side of the sun you guys- i just tasted it in the air and i am so hungry. so hungry. when the light came into the window just now and i heard the traffic and the train and the dishwasher and the tv and the dog chewing and the air hit my face while i was brushing my hair and my phone lit up with a text message and i knew it wasn't going to be anything to be ashamed of, so my heart didnt even start beating any faster than it was already beating and i read it and smiled and nobody asked why and i kept brushing my hair and then i replied and now i am thinking its almost time to go and i already know whats gunna happen cuz i feel it in my heart because all is right with my world so i will brush my teeth and buckle my belt and thank you for removing the biggest ever guilt and replacing it with charm and wonderful spirit and i don't deserve so much credit, but since you always give it to me- i promise to use it so wisely.

love oyu.

we should push QUINN into the river

dear pushing my house into a river diary,

man i feel bad for that poor man in ohio whose house fell into the river. they showed it tipping over right into the river like eight times- and each time it looked worse than the time before. the guy said he was gunna rebuild further away from the river next time. what a great idea. now let's be fair. at least now i know i can kill a mother fucker and know i ain't gunna pay for it with my life. huh. that just crossed my mind. hasn't it yours? i cant stop thinking about who i'd kill first. i'm not cut from that kind of cloth- but oh if i was- i would be lost. you guys would have a hard time finding me- now that quinn has abolished the death penalty. i just don't know what was on quinn's mind- he must love to support killers for the rest of time. but he wants to cut programs that help senior citizens and kids after school- BUT KEEP KILLERS ALIVE AND HEALTHY- what a fucking fool. i would care to bet if you took a vote the people would speak in a louder voice- but we the people did not have that choice- AGAIN IT WAS MADE FOR US.

behind the mirror and under the fishtank- FDIC

dear pulling the couch out diary,

i think i hid money under the couch. i do that sometimes. it is another trick i play on myself. i call it hide and go seek out the money. it sounds stupid, but when you sleep as much as i have to- it becomes easy to lose shit. i lost my car once. everyone says they lose their car- but i really lost mine. i lose my keys all the time. that's why i don't drive. when i do drive- i always always park in the same damned spot. six other people have keys to my car. ima move the couch out in a few minutes cuz i just know i put some cash under there and i want it. i know where i stashed a hundred bucks at, but ima leave that where its at. i don't need that much for what i want. i think there should be a fat fifty under here yet. ima grab that on the way to work tonight and have me a little extra fun. it is always fun to have extra, and i like to have extra fun.

lady becky

dear elmer's glue diary,

that is what my body smells like today. because that is what my becky girl smells like on her chest. my head was on her chest most of the morning. she has a nice wide chest. my head fits perfectly in there and i hear her heart beating and it is so loud and sweet. you know, if ida found becky before i had my kids- in all honesty- i may not have had children. she gives me THAT much love. every need i have is met through her- every need but sexual. yesterday morning she screamed at me, i laughed, she has NEVER raised her voice at me like that. she said, "OUT," and i said, "OKAY THEN," and we went. i can tell when she understands me- her eyebrows go up. i can tell when she doesn't- her head goes to the side- just so. i think she was lady diana in her former life. she had to be royalty. she knows to many special things. it is the way she sits too- dead giveaway. i have never had a polite dog with manners. but then- i've never lived with anything other than pigs.

hollywood- watch out

dear 'i am a cunt' diary,

oh yes i am. and i have a delicious one that you get no part of. how about those apples my little fruitless cake? now why don't you saddle up cowboy and take your bones to town? i have two eyes and what do i see? but a big hairy butthole looking at me. i try to be nice and do what i can- but i think its time to get a moving van. it is all that hair around that mouth- i am sure at any moment a turd will come out- and then here it comes- you call me those names- from the bed where love is to be made- you'd rather play games. dude- if you pucker your lips, one doesn't have to imagine real hard- it looks JUST like the grumps asshole when he shits in the yard. i wouldn't have noticed- but your attitude made me- and i cant take much more- this shits gunna break me. i am only awake about four hours a day- and in those minutes i wish you would go away. instead of getting better- it seems to be getting worse- like while i am asleep you practice and rehearse. if you're trying to get under my skin- you are under every imaginable place- i cant take much more of you in my fucking face. it is hard to look at you- i cant even talk to you. if i didn't have becky and the grump and my son here- i wouldn't know what to do. i don't want to hurt anyone- i am just going crazy. i want you to wake up now and get up out of my bed- i want you to come sit in your chair and shave your fucking head. boys don't wear ponytails on their chins or in the back- omg no- you look like a bobble head that's been smoking crack. that is really all i have to say- if you are just trying out for a part- then by all means- leave it that way.

body heat on the teeth

dear it is freezing in my house diary,

but i am not turning the heater back on. no way. i liked my powerbill last month and ima like it again next month as well. i am fucking done with my furnace for the year. done. well till november anyway. i wish i had bought myself a calendar this year damnit- but i forgot. i am still looking at last years. i could really give two shits, but next month i have an appointment i can not forget about. so, ima have to keep reminding myself i suppose. the dogs are play fighting- and i think it is SO funny. last night the unibomber let becky continuously BARK for no apparent reason while i was sleeping. i usually try and contain them while he is sleeping- ah ahhahah- not today- GODSPEED canines- go for it! two can play at that game. if you wanna chew tobacco and be an inconsiderate FUCK- well- i suppose i can too. i'll load the dishwasher and let the dogs chase each other around the house endlessly. they can do that shit all day long. oh and, btw, i ain't paying for him to get his tombstone teeth cleaned either. if he wants to lay horseshit across his teeth and suck and spit- he can pay for the dental visits with his own fucking unemployment checks. that is just nasty. who smokes AND chews? omfg.

welcome home bob from craigland YAYHOO!!

dear bob home from the hospital diary, 

what a long strange trip it has been my friend. i am so glad you are finally home and back to normal. i would like to try one of those nitro patches someday- maybe it would boost my step WHATCHA THANK? i been mopin around here with no energy at all- prolly the winter blues. i keep thinking the spring thing will come along and do its job and get my rear in gear- but it hasn't yet- i got my fingers crossed- we will see. i sure hope you banked on the washrags up in the hospital like i told you to- i was serious- you can NEVER have to many of them damned things. now that you are in the barbra walters and david letterman club- do you really feel 30 years younger like they say? i am just glad you got your little deal fixed- perfect timing too- during the winter- now you can enjoy the spring and summer. you still need to take it easy and find you a good whore to take good care of you- but i betcha you already have one of those. give her a big kiss for me and post when you can on craigland. loves ya.

re-doing the morning again for the second time

dear going back to bed again diary,

seems like whenever i get up- everyone else gets up too. why is that?  am i just a party or what? so if i didn't get up- would everyone stay in bed? even the dogs? because i just wanted some privacy. a little moment or two to myself. you know- without the smoke. fuck. tell me this isn't happening. it is tho. it does every single time. ima have to get sick and die to get a moment alone. it was fun while it lasted, but it is over now. sometimes i wonder if that isn't why i sleep so much- an effort to escape. i run to my other life that waits for me as soon as i close my eye lids. but sometimes that life is just as painful. most of the time it isn't tho- and i know this. i depend on this. but i think there has to be those times where it does hurt- or i wouldn't want to wake up at all. in a minute, ima shoot for a sweet dream, one filled with softness and touch. then when i wake up- this real shit wont matter as much. 

i am old enough to talk to strangers now

dear favorite day of my week again diary,

boy oh boy, thurdays sure do come all quick and shit when you ain't looking. i wasn't looking for this one. next thursday oughta be a good one cuz damnit one of these thursdays its gunna be time to slip these plants outside and that will be the day this whore is a happy fucking whore. fucking i love to get up in the morning and go outside and sit and look at the sun on my plant leaves. i take q-tips and water and dust them and talk to them and trim them and fluff up the soil and damn- i could just sit there all morning long and be one with them. it makes me so happy. i have a cactus blooming now- but it is ugly. i am glad it's happy tho. no blooms are ugly- i said that wrong- it just isn't as colorful as one would have hoped that it would have been. i'd be bragging about it to the goat if i still talked to him- but i don't. so oh well. sometimes i think about the goat- but i never think about texting him or calling him. i even go a different way to my mom's now. we go there on the way HOME from work- and then take a totally different way home. it works out better and seems to have less of an impact on me. i do so many things different now. Karma has been showing me all the new ways. Karma taught me to not be so nice to mother fuckers who aren't worthy of my niceness. Karma says to be nice to strangers if you're gunna be nice to people who don't deserve it.  

that's prolly why you don't kiss me

dear going to bed early as fuck diary,

i went to bed early with becky last night because i found chewing tobacco in the kitchen. that is way out. let me explain why that it way out. please. ok. background. i am a smoker. however, for instance, i thought cigarettes were going up on new years, so on december 31st, i bought a carton and those lasted me until january 27th. you can do the math. i don't consider myself a heavy smoker. meanwhile, the unibomber, he bought himself a carton THE SAME DAY, december 31st, earlier in the day tho- and by january 27th, he had purchased TWO more cartons and was ready for his THIRD. i made a mental note and bought my second carton. now we are into march already, and my house smells like a fucking bowling alley, to the point where i don't even want to smoke- the car stinks- the ashtray is heaping full- no room for another butt- i walk into the kitchen tonight and what is on the counter- fucking BEECHNUT chewing tobacco. now what the fuck? wanna start chewing nicotine gum and wearing the patch too? so he says to me, (after i have been in bed for an hour) "you going to bed already? what's wrong?" and i reply, "yeah- i don't know who the fuck you are. that hair all over your face- that butthole for a mouth- and now you chew tobacco- who are you?" and what do you know- the typical response- complete with cigarette smoke to ice the cake, "fuck you bitch- i'll chew what i want." and with that i rolled over and thought- 'how sexy,'

i hate love

dear talking on the phone diary,

hearing your voice made me weep- it hurt me so. but after that initial pain was gone and i was able to muster the courage to tell you the only message i wanted to make sure that you got- your reaction was far from what it was in the past and i realized by telling you-that i'd only made myself even more of a victim than i already was. did you really need reminded that i loved you again before you hung the phone up for that last time? were you really going to send me to jail? you said i called you, but my phone said different. feeling helpless is how you are good at making me feel now, helpless and pretty pissed off. if ida known this was what was coming to the table- i would have avoided what you had. on the flip side of it all- i woke up- this time.

say something.... nice even

dear it's the end of the world as we know it diary,

it seems like every time i say anything anymore- the grump jumps up to defend me. like- he is ready to attack anyone who might say anything in agreement or otherwise. he has been doing this for quite some time now- and maria thinks he is just trying to interact in the conversation- i think he is outraged with every word i say. i mean, i think he is outraged with anything anyone else has to say about anything i have said. if the unibomber speaks after i have spoken, ESPECIALLY, if he has that opinion voice, omg the grump will go ballistic. the same way he does when you take your belt off in front of him. his bizarre behaviors are insane to some- but i am used to it. they don't bother me anymore. he always takes my side.

wait- watch- apply the concept

dear earthquake under the sea diary,

tsunami. out in the ocean there are dart buoys that are pressure sensors that can predict when a tsunami wave has passed. it's coming. to fucking bad we didn't have pressure sensors for people who have emotional tsunamis. idiots. i say we insert dart buoys up the ass of people we are unsure of- to keep an eye on unstable emotions and so forth- using the arm of a sterile robotic mechanical device- to avoid any inhumane or humiliating experience for the inserter or the inserted.

boobs or tits

dear clinical study diary,

i haven't eaten anything yet today, so that means if i needed some kind of bigtime surgery at the last minute- i would be just fine. i would not need to starve myself and come back tomorrow- cuz i'm ready now. slice me open and do whatcha need to do. i hope that i wake up with some big perky tits. i always wanted to have tits like i had after i had my second baby. i was mesmerized by them when they were hard as rocks and bursting with milk. they hurt so bad- but they sure were a sight. i looked so good after i had my second child. i actually lost weight when i was pregnant- because after i had him- i weighed less than i did before i got pregnant. standard exercise does work- and having an almost eight pounder helps- but chasing after a toddler is what did it. seventeen years later- the toddler and eight pound infant have now grown into little men and my tits could use some work. you can thankfully still find then where they are supposed to be, but i just want them to wave at a mother fucker once before i die. men still look at them- but i want them to look longer. i wanna have more bounce in my hair and my step. but since surgery ain't gunna happen tonight- ima eat. i am starving.

please read and accept

dear invitations from everywhere diary,

every time i check my trixiethewhore@yahoo.com email (which is not even the email account i signed up with for this blog for some UNKNOWN reason) i have another invite to come and visit in another country. i may have to embark on a worldwide tour. i need everyone to know a few important things tho- before anymore invites come. first of all, i am a DOMESTIC VIOLENCE RISK. a man has a RESTRAINING ORDER, here in illinois we call them ORDER'S OF PROTECTIONS, against ME, meaning- DUDE IS SCARED TO DEATH OF ME AND FEARS FOR HIS LIFE, HOME, AND LIBERTY. this man is really something too. he weighs about 200 pounds- and used to be buff- he ain't now tho- but we wont get into that part of the story- but i will tell you he is a FIREFIGHTER- and IS STILL SCARED TO DEATH OF ME AND SOUGHT COURT PROTECTION BECAUSE HE FEARS FOR HIS LIFE, HOME, AND LIBERTY. i just want to be open and honest and hide nothing from anyone- because- why? i don't have anything to be ashamed of. i am not married. i didn't cheat on my spouse. i don't pretend to be any one's hero. i certainly don't want to misrepresent myself. so please give this serious consideration before inviting me to any far off land. i don't want to scare anyone when i get there. because i will come.

killing to live

dear lunch at the killer diner diary,

in real time, i missed lunch. as it would turn out, i missed our governor making the worst decision he could make for our state- next to the other bad decisions the stupid fucker has already made. that dumb fucker has signed a BILL that ends capital punishment in illinois. today of ALL days this bitch does that. what a dumb ass. i usually do not rant about shit that matters, but when something like this comes along- well- it is hard not to. sure, i may not know much about socioeconomics and structuring laws and all the rhetoric it takes to argue in politics- but one thing i do know that works- AN EYE FOR AN EYE- it ain't rocket science. did quinn just forget about the voiceless future victims of the true crimes? how would they feel about letting their killer live?

good to be back in bed

dear good night diary,

i know i just got up and i thought i was up for the day, but i just ran out of energy- just like a car running out of gas. i wish i had a gauge to tell me how long i was going to last. my eyes get heavy but i didn't get bitchy- i haven't said a word- but boy i cant wait to crawl back in my bed and snuggle with my doggie turds. good night y'all- i'll be dreaming about you- especially my little friend roger. i miss posting on craigland too- but this worldwide stage is fucking awesome. going global has been a trip- now someone has invited me to morocco- i might just get a buttfucking passport and pack and fucking go there. depends on if they have good weed or not- dude hasn't even told me- i haven't asked him yet- so that's prolly why he ain't told me. xoxoxoxoxo

51-50

dear up early to enjoy the day diary,

what's up with that shit? it ain't MY birthday. last night i signed up to follow charlie sheen on twitter and damned if my phone didn't light up all night long. im not gonna be able to follow him on my phone anymore. he retweeted about mcdonalds and their menu having 'mclobster' on it and the red cross collecting 'tigerblood.' for a non-drinker- he sure rationalizes like a drunk or whatever and those goddesses look like straight bar whores. fuck- i look better than that. you can be my body guard- i will be your long lost pal. btw, i want to thank you for letting me have the use of my favorite number for a couple of weeks. to some people forty six is just a number- to me- it is a way of life. now that you are done with the perfect number- it waits for your cuntface wife. she can have it for a year- it will be several before i get there- but i love that number like no other- for reasons i will never share. now you wear the herpe number- and you should be so proud. you know, i wouldn't worry so much about your diagnosis though- only three thousand three hundred and thirty five people know. i will make a wish for you when i blow out the flame on your birthday cake ima fuck around and make. ima put little tiny nuts on top. duh.

growing up fast- making dinners last

dear ashtray wednesday diary,

forty days til easter. rub some oil on your head. forty days till the bunny comes and puts an egg in your bed. i have never really been the one to celebrate it all with candy- but i'll eat a ham and potatoes and stuff- and go to services with my family. when i was little my mom and i always wore matching dresses- we had the hats and handbags too- i always felt like a princess. then in 1978 that all ended for us- she got really sick the night before easter- nothing was ever the same after that and five years later- we lost her. easter lost its magic for me and no matter how hard i try, all these years later- bunnies still make me cry. when my brother shot one before easter dinner- that upset me terribly. grandpa was happy about it- his little lettuce plants and carrot tops had one less predator- but i was sad. bunnies need to eat too.

i know my dog. that's all

dear that is sick diary,

i cant help it if i like to bite my dog. in the mouth. i cant help it if it doesn't bother me in the tiny least if we swap spit in any amount. every dog i have ever had i have always required hours of face training. it is my idea that a dog should feel comfortable in your face and you should feel just as safe with that animal at your nose as you do at your toes. but then i spoil my puppies- they sleep with me- well becky does at night- and both do during naps. there is only one thing about the grump that can frighten me and that is getting him into the shower. he will fucking turn evil. his cogs in the wheel brain kinda get off click and i don't recognize him. he snaps. once you get him into the water- he chills. but oh wow. i can turn him on for show- he has a switch. for instance, i can ask him, "do you love me?" and he will show every tooth in his head and convince any onlooker that he is fittin to bite me- but he wouldn't. i bet you he knows about 7,500 words or more. i don't swap spit with him tho- usually just with becky. the grump will mouth rape you once you start kissing him- so i don't even start. once in awhile he will sneak in a good solid start and it is all you can do to get him off of you- he likes to kiss once he gets started- and you gotta watch it- he will nibble when he gets really into it. omg and that tongue goes clear up your nose and you'll be gaggin for air and laughing and he'll be thinking you like it- and give you more. it sucks. then the humping comes next. he is a man.

don't worry. be happy birthday then...

dear cigar ashes for the wednesday diary,

i would care to make a bet that one extra newspaper is sold today- but i didn't put anything in that bitch. not this year i didn't. i thought about it, but then i thought- why celebrate ash wednesday by having so much non-contact. fat tuesday was 'weigh' better, in grams. nawl, me, ima save my money for the real celebrations. besides- my statement has already been made. i got the chicken dinner and had steak for lunch. ima be ready to yack loud when my time is done. yo. red team go! cant keep me pinned to the court paper for ever- just til, 'further notice..' aaaahhahhhahhhahahh..... duh.

rolling and trolling

dear learning of my new talent,

everyone was busy tonight and i was the only one with two free hands. however, i was the only one lacking the experience and know how to get the job done. they said i could do it- to give myself a chance- that it wasn't that hard of a task- if i would only try. i split it down the middle- and emptied it all out- that first step was hard enough- i was still having my doubts. if these guys really gave two shits- they wouldn't put me through this- even just smelling it- really takes some grit. so then i prepared the new filling and stuffed it in the wrap- it looked like i could be a professional- but that was just a wish. dude came over and stood behind me- said, "let me help you out," i could feel the butterflies in my stomach come to the back of my mouth. "now you need to lick right here," he said as he held out his hand, i stuck out my tongue- i wanted to please this black man. "girl you did that good, now put some fire to it and dry it out." i did exactly what he told me and i admit it was a beauty- and i prolly wouldnta got so many butterflies if he wasn't such a cutie. i guess i did a fine job- they smoked my blunt up in style. i didn't even get to taste it, but i sure did get a smile.

but don't swallow

dear tip it diary,

i hate the tip of this bitch right here- it pisses me off- its dry and icky and cracky and eww. there was a few times i wanted to throw it behind me and hit the chatty bitch who would not shut up. but i didn't. because i am nice. i am not crazy or anything. i have just been busy trying to get my hamster back so i can feed it to my snake. i went on a spiritual quest and moved in with a group of like minded people about six months ago and there have been no reports on the news of any suicide bombings or terrorist threats- so everyone assumes i am doing ok. i am doing ok- but i don't need everyone knowing that. it keeps people busy with the wonder. the absolute wonder of my complete stability. that is a good thing because sometimes i am not sure myself and asking others around me does help.

bundt cakes

dear every once in awhile diary,

sometimes you just know when you could do something wrong- even before you actually do it, but you refrain from doing it because it is the right thing to do and its hard- hard as hell- but you know better cuz you've been there and done that one time before and you aint goin there again no matter what that fruit looks like hanging on that vine. but your thirst is so great- you hunger for the salad. i'll take a fucking steak then. thank you.

stop steamin up my tail

dear clean walls in the halls diary,

now that my walls are clean, i don't want anyone farting in the livingroom. that includes the dogs. i know that is what makes the walls so dirty- all the ass gas from the dogs. everytime the grump stretches- he farts a little bit. it used to be funny until i saw the water in the buckets today. good grief. what must be in my lungs- he usually sits next to me when he farts. becky doesn't fart like he does- but she does fart. i have woke myself up farting a few times- but mine are contained well under the covers in a whole different area of the house- so ima say my ass gas ain't the cause of the dirt in here. the mud spots i found on the lower part of the wall by the kitchen were a phenomenon all on their own. i believe whole heartedly they spelled the words, "fuck" and "off" but i cant be sure. dog messages from a slop artist. who are these smart creatures trying to fool  anyway? it ain't me. i caught on. now as i was saying, we have an understanding around here, now we do anyway- there will be no further delays in the onset of clean walls in our household. not out here- for awhile- we are living in style. no mud clods- no ass gas- no paw prints,  no lint guests. we are spring clean mean and ready to be seen. plus, pretty soon- the lawn will be green.

the grump is happy

dear licking his balls diary,

my dog licks his nuts with such love and dedication. his delicate way and rhythm cracks me up. i watch him close his eyes and i wonder what on earth goes through his head during these sessions. he hates to be touched during this whole nut licking process. don't try to pet him or cuddle him or try to make his experience any better. well playtime seems to have ended- he is snoring now. such a sweet dog with autism- my best friend.

learn something everyday

dear i want i want i want diary,

last night i was laying in bed thinking, which is unusual in itself- believe me- when i get in the bed- usually there is no time to think- i do the majority of my thinking here and in the bathtub. but seriously, i thought, wow, here i am, the little fuckers are about ready to leave the house and be all grown up- maybe i shoulda had another baby. knowing that is physically impossible for one to grow inside my body, i let myself go ahead and continue and think about everything- the bathing and crying and dressing and appointments and smiles and coo'ing and snuggling and loving and shitting and feeding- i thought of it all. i suppose then it was only natural order that a ugly baby dream would follow. yet watching my ugly baby fly away in the mouth of a big beautiful bald eagle gave me such relief- i cant explain with my fingers- or words- or even MY mouth, but knowing i wasn't responsible for that thing anymore overwhelmed me and i fell to the ground and started screaming, "the police are coming! help me up! the cops are coming!" becky jumped on the bed and woke me up the rest of the way licking my face- but my yelling had pretty much done the job. i wish i could be a little quieter sometimes- so i wouldn't disturb the dogs. i bet i am the one who used to wake up my babies all the time.

tell me if i am wrong

dear didnt even need to dream about that diary,

but since i did- who is sherry? i mean- you don't owe me an explanation, but i am sure your wife wouldn't mind one. and why aren't you divorced yet? making a point or hanging on to...... more lies i can only assume. what did you promise to be celibate for a couple of years and maybe she would take you back? do prostitutes and the men count? i would count them if it was me- but then i wouldn't put such restrictions on a person who has a sexual addiction such as yourself. i would make you fuck non-stop- til your dick fell off- and you would never want sex again. which wouldnt take long because of it's size- trust me. we'd have that bitch off and laying on the floor in a week- if it were under my supervision. and i don't think i'd let you live in 'ho' central either. your place of residence is important. i'd make you spend every last fuckable second in my hot wet pussy- so you'd be staying at home with me. period. i think i would ride with you to work- sucking your dick all the way there- and then pick you up- sucking your dick all the way home as well- safety precautions. this is how we would live our life- because you can not be trusted. i would keep my eye peeled to that dick- for sure you would be busted. if cuntface was really serious about keeping you- this is what she would do. i'm just sayin. it's the duty of the wife to keep her man from strayin.

bond set at 2000

dear omg is it thursday yet diary,

nope. but it is tuesday i think. it's a start. i've been shitty depressed lately. i have no reason for it. none at all. everything is fine. the dogs are well and happy. Karma has been very good to me. my muscles have been achy sore- but fuck- my head and heart are fine. i have been struggling with choices again. plus, i don't have anything for 914 until after st. partick's day, so i dunno, since january- i have been pumping pumping for them and now i'm at a lull. i think he is pissed that i haven't had my stupid picture taken yet actually, and still haven't. i hate photos. maybe i'll have one done in morocco. hey- there's an idea. i got the water put away- finally. the couch cover is washed- the garbage out. maria will be less pissed when she gets here. we will do the walls because they are cob webbed cornered up- and ready for a wash down. prolly wait on the windows til a nicer day- plus i am so picky on the windows- i prefer to do them myself. ima get new carpet in a couple of weeks- so i ain't gunna worry about the floor AT ALL. it will be nice to get new carpet. i was gunna get it last year- BUT SPENT MY MONEY ON LAWYERS INSTEAD. oh and bail- cant forget the bail.

water bongs and nice green lawns

dear out of the ordinary diary,

clinically proven to control people who decide to be difficult in personal relationships, alcohol works wonders. can anything but marijuana promise the same results? i would challenge anyone who says otherwise. i miss marijuana in so many ways. i could list four hundred and twenty without stopping and then four hundred and twenty more after a quick pause, and prolly fourteen hundred and twenty more after i puke from drinking- my supposed substitute for smoking. ick. i cant drink tho, and i admit- i have tried. and recently. i cant do it. it wont go down anymore. it makes me gag. when i get to smoke pot again- i will finally be able to feel normal again. my brain will work right. i will be in less pain. i will be able to smoke the images from my mind that are so clear now. i will serve my punishment, do my time in my smoke free environment. funky bitches. 

i am glad one of us was smart

dear recommendations diary,

bigger questions lay before us. i've violated so many reasons you should ever trust me. aside from the obvious, the million reasons you already know about, there is a million and one you don't. in all the years that you have known me, i have tried never to let you down. in all the years that i have known you, i waited for that one special sign. you could never give that to me and now i know why. it was that million and one other reason.

packing garbage bags and suitcases

dear invitational diary,

i got an invite from a reader in morocco to come and visit there. this invitation came after my post about nobody missing me if i did come up missing- so i decided- sure why not entertain the idea. dying in morocco is a very romantic scenario- one i could live with personally. i shall toss this around in my head like a salad and wonder about it like bread. no hurry- no rush- i do not have a crush. i just woke up again- it will be nice to finally get a full nights sleep for once. looking around the house here- nothing seems to be getting any less clutterful- and maria comes tomorrow already and i told her i would be ready to hit the walls with her. we still can, but working around all my shit is gunna be stupid. ima start by getting the four cases of aquafina put away tonight. that will be a tremendous help. then if i can get the tv cleared off of all the junk mail- and the piles of winter shit off the snakes cage lid- i'll be on the right track. i do not know how it even gets like this. i suppose 444 blog postings in 7 weeks could be one reason- but i doubt it.

male dna ain't my forte.

dear on everything diary,

i think had i of disappeared when my kids were small- that people would have noticed. but if i fell off the face of the earth now- my dad would be the only one who would know. i cant see my dad on nancy grace crying for me to come home either. he wouldn't say anything. nobody would hang up any posters around town- or wear red ribbons. there would be no billboards reading, "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WHORE?" nope. old mister walsh wouldn't ever know a THING about me, unless he stumbled on my blog in a couple of years and wondered, 'hum, i wonder why the retarded whore hasn't been posting lately?' as a matter of fact, i bet you that some jogger could run by my leg sticking out of a dumpster and NOT SEE IT.... what do you wanna bet. i ain't really to worried about it. don't waste the money making a task force to look for me. that would insinuate i had something worth finding, like a two inch dick for instance. 

beating the record

dear first things first diary,

i finally got some sleep. i prayed the Lord my soul to keep- but it seems like i still have it. i woke up to some funny assed shit on my phone tho. that picture that got me in so much trouble- the one that looks JUST LIKE the city employee took and posted online of himself- appears to be going viral again- and receiving lots of text time. honestly, it is the best representation (i think) of what not to do to yourself- that is unless you're into humiliation and torture and all that. but people do what makes them horny- and there ain't no stopping that- it is a benefit to the rest of us- we just getta sit back and laugh- and learn of course- and stay clear of things we know. and when we run in to things we have seen before- clearly it is time to go.

run

shopping again i guess

dear i know what i want now diary,

it just came to me. sitting here indian style on my couch- listening to the traffic go by- looking at the grump laying on my floor- i remember the couch i saw in my dream in my grandpa's back yard- and i want it. the one i saw was all ripped up- it looked like it was going to the dump- but the back and sides were perfect- and now its going to drive me nuts. it looked just like my lucky brand purse- with leather patches all over it- only this couch wasn't all leather- just the patches were- and it was overstuffed- but not real big. the image of that davenport will stay with me- it is burned into my mind- i will not be compete until i have it and it's mine. oh wow. i would certainly enjoy that- i think i will look online.  

sleeping beauty slug

dear state of hateful confusion diary,

this is a diary i hate to write in because i would write in this bitch non stop. so i try not to write in the hateful pages often. but is it okay to be pissed off at someone else for sleeping? i mean- just because i cant? because i totally am. and frankly, i think i have been this whole time, for a long time. it doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out when someone JUST gets to sleep and the dog wants out, and this is at 3AM- then at 6AM when someone has to get up again and about falls over trying to gain their balance- AND someone ELSE can wake up and ask if that person is 'okay,' but cant say, 'hey- it's MY turn- didn't you just do that?' no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. but that is fine you little beauty queen mother fucker. lay there. you'll be getting up in a minute.

sorry for the tragic inconveniences

dear made up my mind diary,

due to the extenuating circumstances of the evening of sleep that once did past, it was easy to make my decision on what not to do today. i am not going to get up and do that today. instead, i am going to sleep and be a total fucking bitch to anyone who tries to prevent me from doing so. my eyes are very tired at this point and i am hallucinating. i have seen God. if anyone finds that they need me- leave a message with my secret secretary. i have cancelled and rebooked all of my appointments today but one- and i will return any calls later. xoxoxoxoooxo

making a bottle and letting the baby outside to shit

dear omg every three hours diary,

this is worse than having a newborn. i miss heating up bottles- i really do- but getting up every three hours IS FUCKING DRIVING ME BANANAS ok. my eyes barely work together- my head is totally thumping- i could fall asleep typing- and i am not even lying. here i sit- to get up again in less than an hour- to wake prince harry for school- so he can get a shower. that is my dilemma again- i cant decide what i am to do- go back to sleep for these minutes or suffer just a few. kids and dogs really fuck shit up- i dunno what it was i thought they would bring to the table. i would prolly do things both the same again tho- a hundred times over- if given the choice- and i was able.

when do i ever get to sleep around here?

dear three in the mourning diary,

i got oreos at the store. they were not on sale. i had a coupon. i got broccoli and slaw dressing and salad and cheese. seven layer salad is what i am needing. fucking bacon bits and baby peas. mmm. that will do it for me. yes it will. i am tired- not sad. i am not angry- just mad. everytime i go to bed the little tramp wants out. i would kick her but i love her. i am up. one more hour i could go to mcdonalds but why bother. i got so much shit in the fridge it ain't even funny. i feel like eating now- why not becky is. she will come to bed all licking her chops. how inconsiderate. i feel like captain crunch now. becky sounds like i sound when i eat captain crunch when she eats her dog food. i chew my food loud i guess. i always have to turn up the tv when i eat. it's dumb. but i cant hear anyway. that it part of the reason i don't like potato chips. plus they are just nasty. i like cheeetos tho- don't ever forget that- but not to often- like on road trips and shit. and the cheeto dude is hot- chester- ain't that his name? fuck i dunno. who gives a shit anyway- i don't. becky ran out of the yard today. she got a butt spanking. not very hard, but hard enough to piss the grump off and worry him. course i think he is the one that put her up to running off in the first place. he has been putting little ideas in her head lately. then i about had to lay his ass out too. come growling at me while i was disciplining my girl. phhhbt. i stuck my whole hand in his mouth and  got right back to her. i put them each in the corner for one minute. no golden oreo's for either of them.

defending the underdog

dear stuck on a ride diary,

read all about it. i need to decide whether or not it is worth getting up to do all that or not. that is a big decision. a decision that i am not so prepared to make at the moment. all i can think about is making a batch of butter chicken and sending the unibomber go get some chicken fried rice and taking a five hour nap. that is the first thing on my mind and everything else falls to the wayside. mornings are not my thing. i can get up early- as early as you need me to- but i have to go right back to bed. i'm not good at stayin up. this past year has been hell on me. i blame my mental capacity on the circumstances before me. even tho i can still whoop some ass- it still took its toll. struggling to my feet again, i'll wake up again someday. until then i will keep dreaming- sleeping my life away.

gauze in the closet

dear moisture trap diary,

the thing about later today is not something i feel like doing allot of. i mean- it doesnt hurt to do it or anything like that- i just don't have shit to do- so it's gunna be a sucky fucky day. miranda and the kids are coming home today- and fuck if i know why that excites me- but it does. i'll be glad for shit to get back to normal at work. i had a bacon, lettuce and tomato- tonight that frickin rocked out with its cock out. then i had two cookies. then when i got home i had bbq and slaw. i was starving. i think there was a complaint about our group tonight at work- which is so funny. we were the best workers there. we always are. fricking fucking idiots. didn't bother me any- we raked. my friend Karma spoke to the west side- loud and clear. it was the structure calling. santana said it way before charlie sheen did- but nobody said shit about making a t-shirt til now? wtf? ima eat a cupcake and icecream and slit my throat. winning.

whoremaster

dear feelings of mine diary,

every feeling that i have ever had rolled through my head tonight. you tricked me. i didn't even like you. it was so strange- it all changed so fast. you know what i mean. for so long i assumed you were my future. for so long- you were my today. then for reasons i have yet to understand fully- it went beyond wherever it was supposed to go- i was nothing but your whore and calling you out was the most outstanding thing i have ever done. perhaps the only thing i'd have done different- was done what i did so much earlier in time.

witness say

dear secret sauce diary,

the well has run dry. is it Karma speaking to me? naw. i aint hearin that shit- deaf ear- blind eye. ima good girl. i know how it goes. the wheels on the bus go round and round. you get what you give and you give what you get. i am going to have it made. custom made. it is time for a vacation. let me brush my hair.

broken snails

dear three in the afternoon diary,

a nap ain't on the menu today. i am not happy about that. suckers. oh shit. i think i am gunna be really noticing shortly. i broke two nails. now that is something i am unable to explain. i can have nails so long it is dumb- file them all down to a decent length- leave the house- and break not one- BUT TWO. oh kay then. so now i have even shorter nails. oh yeah. i am so not complaining tho, even tho it prolly reads like i am, i ain't. i am just reflecting on the irony. i used to freak out when i broke a nail, but not so much anymore. i could care less. as long as i don't start chewing again- it'll all be ok. i don't see that happening again anytime soon. my nails don't taste like chicken anymore. not to me anyway. i like the way they look to much. now that they are short(er) i am hoping it will give me the motivation to get more things done i need to get done. i got plenty of that shit.

you better run from me

dear hide your face diary,

yup. it is best for you to drop your head when you walk by my smile. it is best for you to run from me like a small child. it is best for you to steer clear of me at any and all cost. because i will rot your fruit like the frost. i don't feel good today anyway- my body is sore all over- but speaking to a dear dear friend of mine was like rolling in the clover. smiles take a long time to part from my face, but seeing your head drop down made my heart begin to race. i wanted to reach forward and grab your yellow gray hair and pull it all out until your scalp was bare. then poke my fingers into your ugly eyes and spit into your face a few thousand times. i want you to apologize to me- on your fucking knees- i want you to beg for me to stop- i want to hear you say 'please.' i want to give you the answer that you so deserve to hear, i want to tell you, "no fucking way," and then i want you to hear. i want you to hear what i wanted to say- from the very start. i want you to hear how your husband BROKE MY FUCKING HEART. then i want to kick you in your fucking herpe infested twat- for giving that shit to your HUSBAND- you two bit whore.

art class

dear i must say diary,

pink fingernails are fugly. short pink fingernails- vomit. i just wanted to use a color i ain't used in a long time and now we all know why that bottle stands full on my shelf of colors don't we. puke city. i ain't repainting. living with this color will be hell, but oh well, i wont look at them till tomorrow. the paint itself is nice- it went on like a european vacation. but the actual tint is putrid. but then again- i am not a pink person. i am a red hot girl. i frickin freaking fucking love red. i ain't frosty either- in case anyone ever wondered that about me. i despise frost in my paint. i don't have anything to hide- and with frost paint- that is more for those who need to hide a blemish or imperfection. my shit is perfect. i see to it. if you start with a perfect- clean nail- you'll end up with a perfect nail. that is why I HATE SHARING MY POLISH. i would rather give it away. bitches don't clean their nails before they paint them and wonder how shit gets in the paint. once clumps of dirt gets in the paint- its ruined- i don't want it. stick it up your ass for all i care. take it. painting fingernails is an art. anything less- just use a fucking crayon.

dog for rent

dear into the mud again diary,

i am about sick of the back yard. i am about ready to have a tennis court installed back there and let the dogs out on that- or some astroturf- something. a tennis court would be nice. the grump likes to skin tennis balls- and he is so good at it- he can make one bald in about 35 minutes and he wont hurt the ball. he is so gifted. they bring in about half the back yard when they come tho- it kills me. i have eight giant paws to dig out when they come back in. his are generally worse. i get the feeling he fills his paws up with as much mud as he possibly can sometimes, like, "i'll show this dumb bitch right here," and grabs four paw fulls on his way in. i mean come on- grass and weeds and everything? and then sit there with a big cheesy smile and tail waggin while i am bitching digging it all out. while becky is behind me watching and laughing. if i don't clean his feet- he will go jump right in my bed and do it himself and be so damn proud. MAN DOG.

what is better than a happy ad? a happy subtract.

dear good morning diary,

man i slept long and hard and against the wall and another thing, dreaming about going to the library is just about as boring as actually going to the library. but i hate being quiet. i think i might have named my new movie that i wrote yesterday- however. ima name it, "WHORE," imagine that. i designed the posters for it last night i guess. i saw them anyway. i kept looking at the name of the film- "WHORE," i knew it was mine. the release date was 11-11- something- i couldn't make out the year, it was fuzzy. i guess i need to send another email to myself. whenever i go to the library- i have something up my sleeve. i don't go there often. not so much anymore. i am sure there will be a need again someday, but now, at this juncture in my life, i must stay clear of there. orneriness breeds in quiet places where information is stored.