who couldn't love that

dear i ain't never seen anything like it diary,

yep. he's a grump alright. he has limitations. quite a few actually. see the string of snot coming from his eye? that is a limitation right there. he hates to have his eyes wiped out. he is worse than a poodle. i used to spend allot more time kissing him than i do now, but since becky came along- i realize what it is like to have an animal who appreciates sweet love. he cant help but be humbly and brutally- greedy at the same time. i do love him. i have to.

tagged

dear i would stand still diary,

if someone wanted to paint me up, well, i would like that. some graffiti is kewl. i know it ain't supposed to be and it is wrong to like it- but if it is there already and you cant take it off- why cant you like it? i don't like tattoos tho. not on me. on other people- if they are already there- i can like them, but i'd beg you not to get anything while we were together. just because i wouldn't want you to remember me by some splotch of ink on your arm. so far it's worked, all my ex-boyfriends still keep in touch with me- and one wants to pretend we were married and shit- with the bogus order of protection. WHICH I WILL NEVER FUCKING GRASP THE WHOLE CONCEPT OF- BUT WHATEVER. omg like we were talking earlier today-you RUN INTO A BURNING BUILDINGS- BUT YOU ARE "SCARED" OF ME. that is so fucking funny. i love it. everybody LOVES it. the kind of shit you cant make up is the kind of shit people line up for. it helps that i told everyone and cried from day ONE how i wished that dick was at least average in size. so then when that picture of that tiny dick went viral and it looked just like the one he posted online- i jumped right on that bitch i did, but i sent it to the cuntface wife this time. apparently she couldn't tell the difference either and i swear it looks the same- so he filed the order of protection to shut me up AIN'T THAT A SHAME. i fucking get such a kick out of that shit i still love it so much. sending the picture of my dogs nuts came next- that was best touch. my friend sent the turkey neck after she got repeated threats, i just wanted him to know- i was done with his sexual shit. i think a wife and two girlfriends is plenty and this whore was dropping out. he wouldn't take no for an answer- and i was making no doubt.

st louis under 55

spiriTual madness

dear just because you cant see it diary,

doesn't mean it isn't there. the dumbest questions i've ever heard, or one of them anyways, "does a tree still make noise when falling down in the woods- and nobody is there to hear it?" well duh? what do you think einstein? go ahead and mark me down for, "prolly." i love the way my dog sits down. she's so fucking polite it damn near kills me. how can one dog be so perfect? i don't need to necessarily see the full moon to know how close the bitch is- i can feel it. i did spells last time it was this full and this close- and every damned one of those spells worked. so much so, in fact, one of the spells (the unibomber) is still here today. you must be careful- oh so careful- when you dabble in the spiritual world. it is some powerful shit. it wasn't until 2010 that i personally took a dive into the more primal spells- ones i left to my sisters always. while i feel a more zen person- balanced in all areas- able to connect now in every aspect of intervention- whereas before- i would seek only the good- always running from the evil. i am now ready to defend myself against all that come. i have the wonderful stones of Karma- like jewels in a crown- diamonds in a ring- the path in the palm of the chosen. the wax drips, the material rips, the tide flips, and my sister is sighing in her sleep.

sick ass bitch

dear sometimes when i scratch diary,

i don't really know how to say this without being nasty, so ima just say it. sometimes when i scratch- skin comes off and cakes under my fingernails and then it floats around in my bathwater and i wonder what a crime analyst would do with all that dna floating around. oh man- talk about a field day- a gold mine- a fucking college credit class- you could learn allot from looking through my bath. there are always a bunch of feathers from that dumb blanket on my bed- they get caught up in my hair and always float to the surface as soon as i dunk my head. then there is always a ring of 'becky hairs' that soak mainly off my chest- i think they stick to me there- cuz she likes to be on me there the best. and this part is really fucked up you guys- i cant even believe ima admit this- but sometimes after i shave my legs- you can see the hairs floating in the bubbles. now that's fucked up for a bunch of reasons- one of which is the COLOR- my hair on my legs is like the hair on my head- it's blonde- so i shouldn't be able to see it. but its so LONG (lol) i don't have any trouble picking out my shaved off hairs floatin on the bubbles. it makes me ashamed that i've waited so long- but fuckit- my pants fit better. i thought with a tub that i would prolly shave more- but nah, that isn't the case, i am to busy doing other things and cutting the hairs on my face. ima change the sheets on my bed and brush my teeth and look for a pencil.

lucy and the sky of french fries

dear ruby tuesday diary,

blogging at ruby tuesday's is a great place of comfort. even if my food is ready now and it is time to go and my battery is dead- i don't wanna. i could stay all night-- the view is nice. my eyes have seen the glory of a handsome man tonight. i'll be home in a moment- dont worry this wont count as meaningful post number 100. LMAO

always trying to learn

dear what is a 'toejob' diary,

sitting here on the edge on my seat, contemplating what meaningful post to write- after a soul searching jaunt to work tonight the thoughts that lingered inside my head.  i arrived at the place where i decided that you guys and i have never been formally introduced- but i am so rude when it comes to intros that i forget sometimes i am am such a goof. i am trixie west- and i am a whore from right here at home- and i like to make lots of noise when i fuck- but not necessarily moan. i talk out loud when i am sleeping, but i don't get up and walk and i love to draw on sidewalks with bright colors pieces of chalk. whenever i think i've learned something new about myself- it hurts just a little bit- cuz i thought i knew everything- and then something new comes along and wow- i take a hit. i don't know what a toejob is- but it sounds like fun.

a piece of a chaos ZONE

dear dogs are worse than kids diary,

i have come to the conclusion that leaving the back door open reminds me of when the boys were little and the fuckers would run in and out of the house non stop. it wouldn't do any good to tell them to quit either- cuz just as soon as you did- one of them would chase the other one right through the door again- and it would start all over. well that is exactly what these dog fuckers are doing. in and out- in and out. but they use the doggie door- so at least the big door ain't SLAMMIN. oh wow. i hate it when people turn the tv on and leave too. omg. why do they do that i wunner? charlie sheen and chuck lorre and arguing back and forth on twitter like two men in love. i cant help but laugh. they quote each other and it is constant- never ending between those two. they need to kiss and make up. i never was a fan of charlie- and i have ALWAYs loved chuck- his vanity cards fucking rock out with their cock out http://www.chucklorre.com/index-bbt.php  but charlie- mmmm, not so  much a fan here. but if these dogs don't quit running in and out ima lock them out. winner!

an old school BET

dear overwhelming guilt becomes me diary,

breaking a the hundred mile post marker so early is gunna sting the bet maker, especially since i slept til three today. pardon me for a second, (ahahahahaha) but you have to admit, i've been digging deep and deserve this. with three left after this one, you know it's in my back pocket. even if a full grown smokey bear came and got me- i'd be sprung by midnight- and i'd still win this bitch. i can taste sweet victory. i feel bad tho- because there are some people (or one person who thought seven times) that, "guy lost bet has to suck a dick" and that makes me feel just awful- because i do not want anyone thinking that was the case. you don't HAVE to suck a dick if you don't want to. i don't have ANY idea where that idea came from. i know what our bet is. you can have my paypal account, or, we can do the other deal. i am game. :) personally, i would rather you not suck a dick, but if you'd like to suck a dick- i still can do that better too. wanna bet?

crusty bread

dear here we are diary,

almost at the bewitching hour 3pm and guess who is up for the day! oh yay! i'm late again- it is true- but oh well- i had tall shit to do. i called the man in chicago and told him it's back to the original plan- mail that shit. i can still go up and take pictures of the gallagher's house later. i am really getting annoyed at my sleeping patterns- they could not be any screwier. but it seems like sleeping all through the night- doesn't carry me til the next time i should be tired. but these simple accommodations i make keep me rested and happy- just like i was a child. so- with careful understanding and very little planning- i live from day to day- enjoying every moment i am awake to blog and say- whatever happens to come through my head at that particular second is what i will end up posting and it's pretty much the same everyday. i still think about most of the same stuff as i did when i was a kid- except now i have filled in blanks and made mistakes with people i should have hid from- but i suppose everyone deals with that to some extent- maybe just not to the extreme like mine.

fun mental blocks

dear up again and hatin it diary,

who knew it would be like this. my wrist is aching. prolly from holding becky so tight. the longer i wait- the longer it will take. duh. i am so hungry. one of these days, i may eat one of the animals. it could happen. i would eat the unibomber first. eww. while i would count him as an animal, he ain't got enough meat on his bones to have any flavor- i wouldn't think. i'd have to eat the snake i suppose. omfg ewww. at least it doesn't swim. well, that takes care of that- i ain't hungry anymore, good for me. now if i could find a way to do that with sleeping and going pee.

me scrub you longtime

dear gimme all your lovin diary,

all your thugs and kisses too. cottage cheese is good food. i could eat that nasty shit all day long. ima brush my teeth and head off to cuddle with my little princess becky girl. i look forward to this part of my night. i love the feeling of reciprocated love. later today she will HATE me when we get in the tub together. but it has to be done. then the grump WILL be next. he knows it too, because i have WARNED him. it will be a very LONG AND HOT bath for him. i will scrub him LONGTIME.

starviN like marvin

dear now i am going to mcfuckingdonalds diary,

the minute it gets close to four- i am going to put the whole gallon of new milk in the freezer and bolt to mcdonalds and get breakfast. its the only time it is any good is when they first start cooking it- and i happen to be wide awake and i want pancakes and powdered eggs and some ice cold milk. the closer it gets to four- the hungrier i am for the shit. tick tock- i am watching the clock. i have so much shit to do today- i am glad i slept as long as i did earlier- but i'd have liked to have slept up until about now. maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to go this late at night- i could eat some cottage cheese and forget about pancakes tonight. i'll start a load of laundry and look at the map- i found out where i have to go in april now- so that will be something to do. i am just so glad my world no longer revolves around you.

i want a donut now

dear here we go baby diary,

IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!! eight left- i've won my bet- and life is as it was. i could write a hundred and fifty six next week- but i ain't- because i have an assignment for 914 due next friday and that will put the hammer on me a little bit- but it's already half done- i just have to put the bitch together. but the first week of april- i'd be down with it. it's always easier with an event- i didn't have any this week. you can always invent events- but that isn't always the way to go either. remembering previous events- recalling events is best. never lie- embellish while you relish- but don't lie. it's always good to brown your roast before you cook it- but if you don't its still gunna be good- and that's the same way with the truth. honey- if it's gunna be good- it's gunna be good- don't even matter how much you doctor it up. the cream always will float to the top. charles darwin didn't have his wisdom teeth pulled out. what do you want to bet.

he has a small head too

dear it's all under control diary,

i don't know off any other way to say this, but i think it is important that everyone know where my true loyalties are. i have responsibilities that i have taken on, and they come before anything else. the one ima show you now is prolly the dumbest one, but nevertheless- one of the most important. without him, i wouldn't be who i am. he makes me a better person- a more giving and understand person. i'll show you some of my other responsibilities later- but i had to show you this one right now.



his dad was an alligator



hollow point/full metal jacket (new key search words)

dear whoever is up and fucking with me diary,

you are funny. searching for those terms is funny. why do you do that? you should be sleeping- not creeping. i'm smiling tho. because it's cute. i am glad i got up. seven times you've searched using the same key terms. it has to be the same person- i can only assume it's you. you have my attention. can i take your order? did you want to set up an appointment?

stuck in the middle with you

dear all i ate yesterday was arby's diary,

and omfg that shit was nasty. it really was. but i am struck now because if i make eggs or anything and go back to bed- i'll be a sick bitch. but i ain't really tired. i dunno. if i had cream of wheat- omg i would wipe that shit out. yup i would. i cant eat a banana- i'll burp it. ain't that weird. what is cream of wheat anyway? what is it? i just remembered my dream from whila go- i saw a bridge give way and break. it had some traffic on it- and under it was a lake. and i think there were two big alligators i saw- swimming underneath- but i think that the alligators are because of a caption i put under the grump before i went to sleep. so tossing out the alligators- i still saw a falling bridge- so look for something to happen in london or something to an actual bridge. i hope i am wrong this time- now that i've called it out- hopefully i've called it off. maybe that's how you stop it- is to actually call its fucking bluff.

beaks in the waLL

dear we don't need no education diary,

that's what i was thinking when i took the picture on my background- the bricks. that and, 'if you don't beat your meat- you cant have any pudding. how can you have any pudding if you don't BEAT your meat?' i got my wisdom teeth pulled when i was seventeen. that's why i am not as smart as i could be. but as they were putting me to sleep- i was listening to comfortably numb, by pink floyd- like i had to say who the song was by. my first boyfriend called up to the oral surgeons office and asked them how long it was gunna take to cut all four of my teeth out- and recorded that one song on a cassette tape so it would still be playing when i woke up and it sure was. it scared the fucking shit out of me. i never told him that part. it was nice falling asleep to the song- but waking up to it was gawd awful. maybe it was the intense pain- or general shock of waking up- and then being further violated in my ears as well- i dunno- but i just wanted to go home. i admit tho- the shotgun of marijuana in the parking lot of the dentist office was 'right on time.' i miss being young and i wish i had some pudding and i know if ida kept my wisdom teeth ida been weigh smarter.

big moon of change

dear i made it til 1AM diary,

looking at the moon, its a wonder i made it as long as i did. what a big puppy. eighteen years ago- i know what i was doing- what were you doing? i was keeping the exact same company- loving the exact same people i do today- plus now- a few extras. my contact list has grown over the years- but the core list is pretty much still the same. that is an accomplishment- i think. eighteen years ago today i was pregnant- hugely. eighteen years ago when the moon was this close to the earth before- i had yet to earn the title of 'whore,' but i was working on it. if i'd been given the idea- i prolly would have given it a try- there was a part of me already feeling dead inside. that is about how long i've been holding on- waiting for what we had to come back that was so strong. now that moon is big again- reaching closer from the sky to shine brighter on our sins- like it does almost every twenty years- reminding me it ain't to late to get over my fears.

sweat dreams

dear lying in wait diary,

i am now beat to a pulp. been up since 3pm again. seems to be the magic hour lately. i think i will go to bed now and pop up in the middle of the night and take a long hot bubble bath and try to slip back in quietly. i know i will sleep so good after that. yeah buddy. and it will inspire me to write about eight posts in a row- then i can do an easy eight tomorrow and slide over home base and COLLECT. i love to collect. i have a collect call block on my phone- which sucked when i went to jail last year- SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE YOU FUCKING WHORE BITCH- but i feel it is an awesome service and i did not remove it and i wont remove it until i go to prison. night y'all. i should be up later. xoxoxo

my end of the deal

dear sixteen left and a day to go diary,

well, i dunno about you but this has been quite an exhausting task. you know, i didn't think it was going to be that bigga deal- an extra twenty or so posts- but wow, it is like climbing uphill. it helps that the car broke down. if you can even call it that. and it helps that we saw some cute guy crawling back into the hole while daddy is at work. LOL should i call him daddy? i don't think i ever have before. i'll reiterate- my girlfriend and i saw a cute guy going back into the hole where the city employee usually goes and the city employee should be at work today because his vehicle wasn't there but his little girlfriends truck was. i don't even want and try to figure out what is going on there cuz i know what he wanted to move into my pussy. so i work hard at keeping  my mind clear of all possible scenarios- at all costs- but sometimes it does no good. icky poo.

self serviCe

dear creating a new post diary,

boy i had to smoke a cigarette after that last one. i apologize for that outburst. i'll leave it for you preverts, but it'll be a minute before i do that shit again. we'll stick to sewing and cooking and dogshit. those safer topics that cause people insane hatred, which i still don't fully understand (picture my hands flying up now) but whatever. nancy grace sucks tonight. she is on the japan tragedy. her bedside manner ain't very good- if you asked me- but nobody has yet. so you know my car wouldn't start tonight. yep. that was fun. THE DAY AFTER I PUT NEW WINDSHIELD WIPERS ON THE PIECE OF SHIT. yeah. tail me about it. you know, there comes a time in your life when you just want to grab it (life) by the neck and fucking shake it until all the life blows out like vomit on the ground in front of you. just shake the fuck out of it. i mean wtf? so i get out and open the hood. i can do that much. men are coming up to me, "can i help you?" i told them all i could handle it- i would be okay- but the truth was, i didn't know. i was scared, but i have towing on my insurance now- and i didn't want to put anyone out. i started touching the spark plug wires- it didn't seem that bad- i felt like a kid again- a problem many times i'd had. after i pressed all my wires- kinda pressed them all back in, i turned the key in the ignition again- and guess what happened? my car started right on up again- i got out and did a little dance! i shut the hood and them guys just smiled and i drove away at last.

rated R

dear same ole same ole diary,

man- you guys really eat up the dick sucking posts. i guess that answers one of my underlying questions i HAD, 'are my readers primarily male or female,' and now ima say male- because sucking a dick CAN BE kinda boring- and reading about it- worse yet- so the numbers ain't gunna lie- i'm going male. again, don't get me wrong- there are times i like to suck a dick- but i gotta be ready to reward- ima be in the mood to suck that dick- or you are gettin the everyday average blowjob. nothing fancy. it almost sucks to be so ready to suck it like that because when i'm done- everyone else is too- except me- and i am so not done- it aint even funny. but now i have the bathtub- if that were to ever happen again- but it wont- but i still have the bath tub. and i love my bathtub. it's hard not to take 85 baths a day- but then everyone would know what i am doing and i don't want anyone to know- so- i sneak to the bathtub when people are gone. i try to be quiet. sometimes i drop things at that special time so i can make a little noise cuz i cant help it. i want to scream out- but my neighbors might hear me. then i reach over the tub and pick the shit up so i can hurry and drop it again before the hot water is gone. the floor is always a mess. my legs are always shaking when i walk up the stairs and i am always wetter after my bath than when i got in. it's weird like that. i don't even miss the shower.

don't die out west

dear don't die in hollywood diary,

so if you ever do move to hollywood- don't be plain upper class folk and fuck around and die there and expect a speedy funeral, folks they got a BACKLOG. we are talking almost a fucking month. so what they decided to do with stevie, (everyone called him stevie for the love of fuck it is only worse now) they've decided to burn him up and put him in a jar and wait for their turn at the funeral home- to have the damned service. i think that is fucking stupid. but ok. cremate him and have the memorial service at his church- where he went ALL HIS LIFE- but don't wait a month to do it- that's just weird. why would you wait a month? but i don't know. that is just me. i cant say anything- it isn't my place. but if i had the financial means- i believe i would open a chain of funeral homes in hollywood because- clearly- there is a need.

BIG blogger WHORE

dear other whores on the network diary,

turns out, there are a bunch of whores up here in the old blogger building. and here i thought i was the only one and shit. i thought i had the whole damned floor to myself and look at this shit- there are two or three floors of us whores all piled up on top of each other- but seems like i am the only trixie. so that's good. hope ain't nobody else getting my hate mail. that would be bad. i dunno. hate mail doesn't disenfranchise me in the least- but i'll tell you what does. getting interrupted while i am trying to write. for fucks sake. last i knew we was talking about lighters at the dollar store. just leave me alone. i really don't like to talk anymore. frankly, not to much around here anyways. i don't have a problem talking to others- usually, but i'm liking doing that less and less as well. i just don't like the whole sharing part anymore. i like listening- but seems like all anyone ever wants me to do is talk- and so i just hand out little cards now- and say, "here, go read," it saves me allot of time- i get more done- and i just give everyone a quick hug and off i go- never a bother to anyone. not even a chance of being a threat or harassing a single soul on earth. a new way to live. i wish only i had done this- oh say six years ago TODAY. one could only assume the things we could have avoided. LMAO.

look out.. we got a PSYCHO

dear the severe and unintentional impact diary,

one thing i never intended with my blogging was to ever have any kind of meaningful impact on any ones life. i do this to vent quietly. i have been wondering what makes people like reading these and what makes people hate reading these- and what makes people continue reading if they hate them as much as they claim to. then to take the time to email me- and tell me how much you despise me? but i get just as many cool emails as well- the invites to come visit other countries- the solicitations for sex- my stomach drops thinking about some of them. but what really blows my mind- is the boldness people seem to have in their contact with me. it might seem as if i know you when i am posting away in my diary- but i can assure you- i prolly don't. unless we've had court dates- or been married- really- i'm sure we prolly don't know each other- i don't get out much. you may think you know me- butcha don't. so i dunno what ur gunna do- but it ain't me so...

don't say ONE word (and you'll be fine)

dear if i were becky diary,

if i were becky and the grump did the things to me that he does to her, i would come the piss and shit unglued. why she doesn't i will never understand- but she doesn't- and that is further testimony of her love and special nature. she allows him to get his 'ram' on, and ignores him the entire time, and makes him work for her affections, yet challenges him when he lags behind. she never lets him think she's bothered by anything he does, but just as soon as he stops fucking with her- she gives him that gentle nudge. then he starts his shit right back up- he takes the bait just like a hungry fish- serving up the same old crap- his main dinner dish. then we always end up licking each other- that's when you know they're done. then they chew on the toys for a while- fucking hours of fun. pretty soon it'll start up again- it'll all turn out the same- but it might start with the unibomber next time- if he speaks- ain't that a shame.

looking for a flAg

dear frickin fucking ugh diary,

so i lay down for a tiny nap at 9:30AM- wake up at 3PM- see how that works? omg. now i'm in a mad rush. hush hush. i think something may be clinically wrong with me, but i ain't sure. i got healthy shit at the store last night. for instance, i got bananas and broccoli and milk and grapejuice. THERE'S A FLAG. understanding the human body is a complex thing. understanding my body is pretty easy. i'll put almost anything in my mouth- as long as it don't swim before it gets there. eww. i'm in a good mood today. my legs don't hurt. uh oh. ANOTHER FLAG?  could be. playing racket ball is what i miss doing. i like the way the balls sound when they pucker up and hit the wall. they then echo pretty much until they pucker up and hit again- and that rhythm is intoxicating. i have my rackets hangin in the closet and my balls- but i ain't played for a spell. now that i have some good tennis shoes- i oughta go play. i love to beat them sucker balls. FLAG.

fryday- gloomy fryday

dear today diary,

today i am making believe that the sun is shining and that i am not suffering from an extreme case of heartburn and that i am still in fact sleeping  because the birds did NOT wake me up. i am making believe that i won the top prize on the million dollar raffle last night on the lottery- on one of my six tickets i have not checked yet. i am glad i went to walmart last night and got the shit i needed so i don't have to go today. you guys should have seen the grump last night- he looked  like he was on vacation. look.... 

he is a good co-pilot, always ready to land. he is the king of my double wide. we have polyester curtains and a redwood deck.

whooda THUNK

dear rush rush diary,

the heat is on. i have to make the three digit mark by sunday at midnight or i lose the mf'in bet. i'll make it. last time i lost a bet i had to suck a dick in the waffle house parking lot AND eat there. yuck to both. even if the dick is still layin up in the other room right now- i hate eatin at the waffle house and i hate being told to suck a drunk dick. if you tell me to suck your dick- oh my GOD- i would rather wash the fucking car. unless you COMMAND me to suck your dick. there is a difference- and i cant much tell you what that is- but i can tell you, there IS a difference. oh and- don't whine either- gawd no. nothing is worse than a whiner. oh wait- yes there is- a beggar. you got only ONE chance to command me- if it don't work- it ain't gunna. i like to play the, 'yes master,' game. you really cant play that with a guy smaller than you tho- i mean you can- but it's hard to.  you never really feel like they've gotcha. come to think of it, son of a bitch, i've never gotten to actually play that game at all- so i dunno what the fuck i'm even talking about. oh well, i got another post done.

not 575 but its SHADOW

dear passed up a good one diary,

well i passed up the 575 posting mark while i wasn't looking FUCK HOW DID THAT HAPPEN I WUNNER??? EEEEEK! if i start slipping now- i might as well quit. good gawd. well, at least i fucking remembered. see- i am still with it. ain't life grand. i am concerned that my medication ain't working like it used to. i may have to check into an increase- or a total switch. you just never know. i don't anyway- things change so fast anymore. one minute i am so stable- the next- i don't want to say 'unstable,' but really now- what other word is there? yawn. things been so good lately tho- i hate to shake it up. well, aside from the death of steve, and the death of dad's van, and jason, and the state of things generally, and my brother, and prince william, and prince harry, and all these changes to the garbage services, and the cable bill being $234 and the earthquake and tsunami and the birds chirping and court coming up and i owe $41 on my fine and now i gotta start a new project for 914 and all i can think about is getting my hair done and getting new jeans and taking a picture of the gallagher house and posting every little red hot detail and then going to sheila and karen's house and doing the same thing. omg omg omg. but other than that, unstable is the way to be i suppose.

NeverEndinG Shelf LiFE

dear expiration dates diary,

everything has a shelf life. even we as people. that is a terribly brutal statement as read and said, but its true. everything goes bad- sours- rots- decays- turns to shit- however you want to say it- it does. our bodies get old- our minds give way- and eventually- we are back to our original form- a heaping glob of cellular goo. the things we do during this lifetime are what sets us apart from a head of lettuce or a mulberry tree. altho- i am sure someone somewhere has deemed a mulberry tree out there to be much more important for some reason- than i will prolly ever be- but i dunno about the lettuce. i just hope the city doesn't come along and cut that mulberry tree down and fuck up someones special mulberry tree shelf life, cuz they will do that- for no reason. as long as we are true to ourselves- and take care of who we are, we can live in tupperware. we can have longer shelf lives. if we all picked one special cuntface type person to focus our discord and disgust and hatred towards- a person who was stupid and did not matter- then every time something went a tiny bit wrong we could curse that person and feel so much better. that's what i do and let me tell you- it works like you wouldn't believe. i know my first sentence said, 'everything has a shelf life,' but not my hate for his cuntface wife.

ZOO whores

dear loud assembly outside diary,

them fucking birds are loud as hell. i ain't kidding you one bit. there are at least six different brands of birds outside my window flappin their beaks- and a woodpecker. the whole fang dang neighborhood is up and got me up too and i just got to sleep. the dogs are doing the, "you lick my dick, i'll lick your pussy," deal on the floor already this morning and being fair about it. usually the grump gets all the licking time. becky- she never complains. i really fucking hate woodpeckers in the morning- sounds like this fucker found a lightpole. GOOD FOR HIM. what a dumb bird. if i woulda been born a bird- what do you bet- ida been born a woodpecker. oh man that woulda sucked.

it ain't funny

dear starting over diary,

well, fuck. i went to bed and that didn't work out for me. it's weird. sometimes i can go to bed and be asleep without trying. then other times i go to bed and laying there- it feels like i am dying. i try to sleep- and try again- and try one more time- then something will strike me funny and i know i better get up or i'm fucked. one thing i've learned over the years is to TRY not to laugh in that bed. at least not while the UNIBOMBER is sleeping for fucks sake OR TRYING TO SLEEP- even that is WORSE YET. oh fuck i cant help it after i lay there an hour- everything is funny to me. becky will grunt or scrunch next to me and it makes me so giggly. i guess i'll try again.

get the RAID out

dear flying bug diary,

i saw a flying bug by my outside light already this year. so i dunno what that means, but i hate bugs. eww. ima go to bed now and prolly have bug dreams. double eww. fucking ants are the worstest. then flippin mosquitoes. then spiders. i bet cockroaches trump all the above but i dont deal with them- so cant put them in there- or fleas. those are like accidents, PREVENTABLE. by gawd. so night then y'all. gettin my material for my new project tomorrow- you guys'll love what else i'm getting you tho. cheesebooger cheesebooger cheesebooger. btw- the new girlfriend has some kewl rims on her truck. betcha cuntface is BESIDE herself. omfg to be a fly on the wall. i'd fucking LOVE to've heard THAT. and she's lookin fertile... ahahhahhahahah.

trixietheSLUT don't even sound right

what IS the difference dear diary,

the more i think about it- the more i remember- they are both words i'm not real comfortable saying around my grandma, WHORE & SLUT, but i think being a 'whore' just sounds better. so.. next time you guys need to search for something on GOOGLE- try searching for trixiethewhore- you'll PROLLY get more hits. and while we are at it let us look at some of the other search terms i've noticed that have been used. check these out- you guys should get a kick out of these- you might want to sit down:

• whore with stinky ass
• hiccups
• whores asleep
• stawking whore
• my wife is your whore
• my wife is my slut
• licking hairy legs
• i saw the time change
• becky + fucking
• fucking nasty ass whore bitch fuck off cunt die bitch ass motherfucker
• my fingerbangers
• trixiethewhore
• trixiethewhore.blogspot
• animal whores
• diary of a retarded whore

i am sure there will be more- i get a crack out of the ones that show up. i love to see the posts you guys read the most too- currently it is THUMP THUMP TAKE A DUMP with the highest views. you tell me why? i sure don't know. my map is ALL but green- tomorrow is my TWO month anniversary here- and my neighbors have yet to complain. i love you guys. 

why would you say that?

dear every complication diary,

would it be that difficult to schedule trains for nighttime only? that way less people get fucked with during the day of traffic? or i dunno. i will just fucking stay in and go out at night then when there are less trains. problem solved. i have lived and worked around things my whole life. i guess that is why things that come with their little problems don't bother me like they would some people. a spot on a banana- a dent on a car- a wife- those are the kinds of things we can work around. but to flush away the care of the day is something i cant forget about. i am not a romantic person and that is not by choice. if i felt romance to share i think i could get into that lifestyle again- but to start all over it feels so wrong here and i don't know where to begin.

Lorena Bobbit musta been MARRIED to the FIREMAN (at some point)

dear this feeling right here diary,

randy was funny tonight- pinching me every chance he got- it didn't bother me in the least bit- that is why i didn't wear green. he didn't wear green either- but i didn't pinch him once- i am really bashful- until you check that box. then i'll touch you all over- until you take me to court and i'll stop. at least that is what happened last time, even though it stopped WAY before that. but anyway- i gotta cut this short- like the dick i just made reference to- i gotta run an errand- it is so nice outside- ima hang my hair out the window and get some air in it. ima take becky- we are going for a ride- if she was a kid- we would go to the park and slide. but she's not- we will stawk- it is to late to walk. brb- you know i will. i am- cuz i live here. i just wanta wash my car.

move dumb ass

dear webster diary,

understanding the meaning of words is helpful in figuring out why certain events happen in our own particular lives. for instance, surprises are things that spring on us- out of the blue- and can be good things or bad things- that's why you never know- hence- SURPRISE! now accidents are another thing, i think some accidents are mis-defined. you cant go around and sabotage things and label them an accident all the time. when an accident is truly an accident- neither party know- because if the light pole knew the car was coming- it WOULDN'T BE AN ACCIDENT now would it- well NO. so next time you run your car into a tree- just think of how fair that is, for you to know what you are doing- and the tree to not know shit.

the van is DEAD

(JASON KILT IT)
dear i am so pissed off diary,

fucking jason. what a dick. omg. can you believe the nerve of some people. now i gotta hear the unibomber in all his wide pearls of wisdom. my world. a life in termoil. once the fuck again. because of JASON. fuck me OMG. dr. phil can even help with this one, dr. drew- he cant do shit- fucking someone needs to tie me up cuz i am fixing to have a fit. FOR THE LAST YEAR AND A HALF MY FATHER HAD BEEN GIVING JASON A RIDE. for almost a year of that time he was using my car. oh yeah. oh yeah. after repossessing my car this winter, today at 6:07AM my daddy BLEW UP his VAN- on the way to get JASON- a THIRTY-ONE YEAR OLD MAN. well as you all know my ringer ain't on- so when i woke up at 7:14AM, i freaked out- finally calling my dad's ole lady and she answered this time- wow what an upset for her- no doubt. so now that dad can no longer cater to jason, and take him to work and around town chasing after the things he thinks he needs- who will offer to do those deeds? i used to babysit jason when i was a kid. his parents would hang with my parents allot, but after they died- seeing him now in their place is quite a shock. when i come in and see them reading the paper- it makes me uncomfortable- i'm like, 'see ya later.' well i betcha i don't see him over there now- he'll be at somebody elses house reading the paper. dad needed a more economical vehicle anyway- ima make that happen- and i'll be damned if jason's ass will be gettin anymore free rides.

Yello CruSH

dear omg it is working diary,

getting THAT call was delicious and one that i've been waiting for- FoReVeR. but had i have called- it would have ruined it- so i waited like a good girl. and kerplunkity plunk- turd in the trunk. THE BITCH IS READING MY SHIT. i knew she was but she is and now i know and that's all she wrote and she's stuck to me like glue. whoo hoo. i hate you. shit diggs. i could spin a wig right now. i was going to go to bed- but instead- i dunno. welcome to hellinois! home of the retarded whore. omfg krayon. hanging on every word i say. crush crush. thank you- thank you very much.

my wife IS your whore

dear something to think about diary,

searching for a man who would write that title... "my wife is your whore." what kind of man would that be? would he be pissed off? would he be a sex addict? why would i even be thinking such a thing? i'm not. i am writing it. shit like that is fun to toss around because it's taboo. the actuality of it, i dunno. could i do it? oh prolly. could i live with myself- that is the question. i used to think- 'if you could- i could,' but i know better now. because YOU can walk away- you did walk away- and i am left with the shame of it all. thank GOD i did no more than i did. i let another man feel my boobs while you fucked me. that is the WORST thing i've ever done- other than when we had sex with that other couple in the same room. ALL WHILE YOU WERE MARRIED TO YOUR CUNTFACE WIFE. but ima whore. and that is fine.

that's how it would go...

dear waking up with one less diary,

looking out my window this morning, i couldn't help but think of my family on the west coast. yes, i know what they are going through- that kind of pain that hurts THE most. it hurts here too, in the middle of our state- but the pain wont linger on- because for us it will heal sooner. dad had me check on tickets last night- i don't want to go- i know if i went out there- i'd have to do a show. then i'd hurt everyone's feelings- for being inappropriate- but i would not go clear out there- if i could not do it. now i know how its done out there- all i have to do is a 20 minute set- the cash i make in tips alone- would be plenty if that's all i get. there would be plenty of time after the funeral and all the family visits. but that would just be wrong i think to make people laugh- right after i got done crying and being sad and all that. and what if someone from the funeral was there and saw me up on stage, cracking jokes and cursing- really not acting my age. they might go back and tell my aunt and uncle what i did- left the fucking funeral and went and acted like a kid.

smile for the CamErA

dear i always wanted a giraffe for a pet diary,

i thought that would be fun to have one. i have a yellow sweater and brown pants and boots we would match and could have our pictures taken in that and it would look fabulous hanging on a light brown wall in a dark brown frame and i thought that with my hair next to a giraffe and my eyes being brown with my highlights showing in the golden sun that green grass against my soles on my ugg boots would look so sexy with trees coming down near the giraffes head and my head being by the giraffes head too and maybe the giraffe and i would look at each other like lovers and omg if it kissed me wouldn't that be something, but if it was shitting or it had just shitted i would not like that in the picture so we would prolly want to move over so the shit could not be seen or they could airbrush the shit out and make it look like a rock or a turtle like they make fat models look skinny cuz that's what they would have to do with me is airbrush my flat stupid ass, because i am like a turd in the picture- and nobody wants to see that shit. but if a giraffe was next to me not shitting, that would be kewl. as fuck.

tWo more weeks (ida HAD IT)

dear general and special diary,

hello st. patrick, first of all. now with that out of the way, i went to bed again- and couldn't sleep. doesn't happen often. i heard a cat outside my window- but it doesn't sound like a neighborhood cat- so i dunno. a prowler i can only assume- strange pussy. moving forward or the slowing of time would fall under the theory of special relativity and the bending of time or manipulating of time- or use of gravity of sorts then goes with the theory of general relativity. it is hard for me to keep those two straight in my head- because to me a wormhole is a wormhole, but they are different. manipulation- is a form of magic. tricks you gotta learn and get good at. personally, i think manipulation is a skill anyone can learn, but some people are just born with the ability. i mean come on, there ain't no class for it- okay- public fucking speaking- charm school- philosophy- psychology- maybe- political science- but seriously manipulation of time- who teaches that? that's shit you learn in the garage with an ounce of weed and fourteen saturday afternoons alone watching land of the lost. i still think it can be done. and i only got through twelve saturday's before the cops came and took my weed and i to jail. i almost had the answers.

there is no order to die

dear went to bed and got back up diary,

my ringer may be off- but that didn't stop me from SEEING my phone ring. it was my dad. i knew it was bad. he doesn't call at ten at night for nothing. steve died. and that is that. but it sucks bad you know. a parent should never see their child die, a child they have tried so very hard to love and protect. it would be hard not to assume as a parent- that you should be going next. my aunt and uncle are such wonderful people- i told daddy he should go out there. i told him he would be such a great comfort to his sister in her grief he could share. i am thankful steve's kids are grown and graduated from college. they both are super smart and have solid heads full of knowledge. steve was able to raise those kids until they were mature and understood- the choices they make in life right now deem them forever bad or good. i love my family- each one of them and i hate the pain death brings- but steve is with my mom now and i know that will make her sing.

fairytale summer

dear that is about enough diary,

i bet you that i yawn more than anyone else. i bet you there is a buncha shit i do that nobody else does- or not very many people do anyway. i betcha two thirds of youns would go nuts trading spots with me after an hour and ten minutes in my slippers- or boots- whichever you wanted to wear while you was being me. i wouldn't have any trouble screwing up your life in the time allotted, bet me. you gotta be dedicated to doing what i do- seriously. it is hard doing nothing most of the time. next week i will have an assignment for 914 again- but it will be the smaller kind. hopefully- i'll get some of what i need from the man in chicago- and it'll be half done. then the week after that dad needs me to help and things'll should be quiet till april 18th, until i've got court again and then it's off to the races friends! what a summer we have planned this year- no time for sleeping. for then most of the secrets will be out and it will be no good for me to keep them.

onion pits & pouty lips

dear resting so comfortably diary,

with becky asleep between my legs it is really hard to move or do anything because i really don't want to wake her up and she needs her sleep. she is so beautiful when she sleeps- it almost makes me cry sometimes when i watch her- she is that pure. the sound of her taking air into her little body- omg- is like a dream. it is like pudding in a clean dish. i cant explain it and i sure as hell ain't gunna try. she's up now- doing other cute things- which she does allot of- i'll tell you. i wish i had ten more just like her, but prolly eight of them would turn out like the grump. that would suck. so forget i even said that. i am bored tonite. my armpits stink. at least i think it's me- i dunno. i don't care really, at some point i might- but i just put on a sweater and said fuck it. i cant even believe i am still awake. up since three. something must be wrong with me.

SLAP SMEAR

dear stupid diary,

i never figured you to be that smart, but i never thought you were stupid. i just cant believe you left me behind. you signed up to be a hero and you said that you would be mine- and i try to keep this out of my head but everyday it finds its way back inside. then to make it worse- you take me to court and say- you are fearful of your life and that i wont go away. you were the one calling me. you were the one begging for sex. you were the one saying 'i love you,' IN EVERY FUCKING TEXT. and then- THEN i find out there is yet another woman- and send your WIFE a picture of your dick- THE SAME PICTURE YOU PLASTERED ALL OVER THE INTERNET- and you wanta say you're scared of me? you know, i wish i could forget this, but it just never gets old. you are just SO pissed off because i am rather BOLD. i told you i'd be having fun with this for a very long time, every time it enters my head- i laugh out of my fucking mind. after all- your dick is so small it's hard to believe it caused such a stir. it is a good thing you made such a mess or you would have been a blurr.

19months4days left LMAO

dear up all day diary,

i have been up since three and already i'm showing signs of weakness. oh yeah. it ain't looking good. looking back over my life, i cant believe all the times i have been awake. God- what was i doing? i could have been asleep so much more. all the cookouts and vacations and the times we drove around endlessly- man. i am so much happier now. up two hours- sleep six. up an hour- sleep four. i only have nineteen more months and four days of this to go and i'll have my life back- but who knows- i may not even want it back. i like this one.

contracting whores again

dear certain genetic factor diary,

potential prevailing pains in the toes causing alarms near the eyelids will in turn repeat the non life threatening allergic inflammation of the phallus- possibly relating to orgasm in a female or male- depending on if the extended muscle is entered into said perimeter of the female genitalia correctly and repeatedly. once achieved- this bond could last for more than a minute- or less than a minute depending on the resources of the phallus holder. sometimes the resources are not measured in wealth, but in girth, or kindness, or just being real. damner that shit hits like a hammer- when you grab the right nail.

the mail ain't come yet

dear packing up and leavin town diary,

let's say that you were in a 'relationshit' and things were going 'not so good' and got worse and your mate felt the need to get speed and moved five states away to get away from you- just to BREAK UP. and let's say- that's okay with you- and you moved on...... so you got yourself a new fuck.... or whatever, a 'relationshit' and again, things ain't goin 'so good,' but you've got someone- and then guess what? THAT PERSON MOVES EIGHT STATES AWAY TO GET AWAY FROM YOUR ASS. oh my. i cant do allot of fortune telling here, mind reading either, and i don't want to go out on any limbs, but it may be safe to assume there might be some sort of pattern beginning here. just sayin. the only reason i haven't moved is because i never fucked you and you finally got the message and quit calling me. i'll always care about you- but not in a way that you will understand. i'll still send you postcards- even when i don't go anywhere.
(this post was about the staph-infucktion fyi)

gifts that i took

dear starving diary,

please feed me i am starving- about ready to die. i guess i could eat chips and salsa- or a piece of pie. there went the big cactus- out to the porch. omg i am so happy. IT WILL SOON BE JULY. here come the plants from the basement- one by one- the hardy succulents can go outside already, but the leafy dedicates must wait. last year i put my elephant jade out to soon and it was a chance of fate it lives to date- it is one of my most treasured potted plants i have now- it grows at a slow rate. it hangs in my mothers handmade macrame- soiled from years of use- i washed it in woolite last year- the water black from car fumes. that is what makes the plant so special- the hanger in which it hangs- i remember when my mom was making that- i was braiding my bangs. she'd hook the pieces to the legs of the couch and string them across the floor, i bet she never once thought those would end up with such a whore. i have just a few of the ones she made- i don't know what happened to the rest- i think the ones i ended up with were some of her very best.

gimme back my bullets

dear riding out diary,

across the field of greens. across the vast oceans supreme. i will find you and be so mean. i always wanted to start one like that. i sound so officially spooky. i wish i was off my rocker. it would be so much easier to get away with shit. oh well, at least i am easily entertained, that is one thing they cant take from me. becky and i took an excellent nap. i love sleeping with her, almost as much as i love sleeping. i think she loves sleeping with me too. because the bitch wont move an inch- unless she leaves- but usually she will come back before i wake up. i use the time she is gone to flip over and sleep on my other side- because for some reason- i cant get her to sleep between me and the wall yet. i am working on that. hopefully she will make the transition soon. the grump is pitiful- in every sense of the word. his body language and eye contact while relaxing tell me he has all but given up in life- but his stance and poise when strutting say the complete opposite. he is king around here.

the calendar people

dear questions to ax yourself diary,

approaching the quarter of the year point- there is no going back now. we've already etched- shit, wrong word- CARVED our way in history- arizona in january- japan in march- and not one time have i heard any correlation between the dates nine eleven and three eleven. it is all i could think about- but my mind seems to work in numbers- but only most of the time- when it isn't word farming. leaving interpretation of worldly events is for the smart scholarly fuckers to figure out- it's us dumbfucks who have to apply what they don't tell us to our everyday lives and make use of that. one plus one ain't two anymore, it's two with an exponent above or below it. and oh fucking be careful too- if the exponent is negative- YOU'LL FUCKING BLOW IT. history is nothing but a diary- math- a calendar- and science- our kitchen. things will happen in our world that will always leave people bitchin. i hate that japan has suffered so- the images are staggering- in my life i could never imagine such a vision so shattering. my eyes have now seen things that i'd thought were not possible- but those strong people will pick up the pieces and there will be a tomorrow. where does that leave us today? that is the question. i'm thinking i'd like to know more about these mayan's.

sound OF music

dear stranger than strange diary,

you will NOT believe what woke me today. it really was the cutest thing. ima get her baby book and pencil  it down after bit- iffin i forget it is ok tho- i have it bench marked here- i can always do it later- but- you guys are gunna lay eggs- even now- before easter. BECKY SNORED. it was so sweet tho. it wasn't like the grump- all loud and stupid- it was a gentle snore- soft and sweet- like my grandma's snore. i started LAUGHING MY ASS OFF. i listened to her for a few minutes- it was the sweetest thing ever- and then i pulled her closer to me-a whole inch and a half- and she stuck all her legs straight up in the air and i rubbed her belly and we snuggled. then we just looked at each other for a minute or two- i decided she was more beautiful than ever, we kissed, and then she looked at the door to the bedroom and said, "out?" and i said, "okay," and now we are up. a perfect morning. i wonder if she will snore all the time now or if that was an isolated snoring incident. i would like to catch her snoring again- but i doubt it will ever happen.

road TriPpin'




 

dear big city stalking diary,

man, i got it all planned out now. i been had plans to go here, but now, ima really go. it does NOT take much to get me rammed up, but cbs can do it (cbs/showtime same deal.) i am lucky to have my fingers in the right pot. it is no secret that i love to write, but i love to research too. my life, for instance, has been, and is, an on-going project. i can NOT wait to document this with my own cellphone camera and first hand description for you guys. i haven't said ONE word about the show until NOW, and there is a reason, but, we need not discuss that at present. y'all wont be disappointed. i wasn't.  ima go to sheila and karen's house too.








on EvEry card

dear happy birthday diary,

happy birthday duffie! i know you think i forgot. i didn't and i am sorry. but i still think about you a LOT. you prolly think you still owe me money, let me assure you that you do not- i wouldn't have helped you if i couldn't have helped you- i'm not like everybody else. i am a bonehead- i'll admit that is true, but i sure do miss hanging out with you. i am not sure why we quit talking after you moved away- i always assumed it was because of kelly and the things i had to say. i hope that you are doing well and celebrate your favorite lucky day in a very traditional special duffie way.

framed

dear winning that bet diary,

one thing you never want to do is make a bet against me- cuz ima move hail and high water to beat you and win at every cost without cheating (or without getting caught) cuz i gotta win. and this dumb motherfucker said i couldn't post 100 times in a week and this is 47 right here and it ain't even wednesday yet. i dunno.. 53 more my saturday at midnight? seems like i'm on track for a winning week. with every post being a rambling episode of ordinary drivel- i'd say i'm making my way and meeting said requirements. so you best get ready to pay up. don't try to change anything either- i got the shit in            W R I T I N G...

made in taiwan

dear dumb movie diary,

dear JESUS IN THE SKY there are some dumb movies that are on the tv. who writes these things? please tell me cuz i want to buy a plane ticket, pack my shit, and go find them AND KILL THEM . i don't even want a tv anymore. ima break it. then after i KILL THE WRITER'S, I WILL GET ON HERE AND BLOG ABOUT IT AND POST PICTURES. at least i know I WILL BE ENTERTAINED. this movie right here.. HEAVY PETTING is the most poorly written, directed and produced movie i have ever seen IN MY LIFE and i am not even WATCHING IT. i pay two hundred and thirty four dollars for this high quality crap. why isn't nancy grace on twenty four hours a day or the DOG WHISPERER or something dang. i am NOT happy with my cable service. somethings gotta give. buy kleenex.

irregular slut

dear hollywood diary,

i would not fit in out west. i just realized that. i mean, i used to have this friend who explained it the best when she'd say, "girl a movie star could sit down right next to you and you would not know who they were," and after about two years of schooling this thought, she is right. she hit the nail square on the head. i am dumb like that. we have to've had sex 800 times or i wont recognize you. i might as well be blind. now i know my kids- and my dad and of course i didn't have sex with them- but i've seen them everyday ALL MY LIFE. so there you go. but completely on the other spectrum- people think i look like everyone they know, which used to really FREAK me out. because until i was almost 22 years old- i didn't know who i was- or where i came from- so that ALWAYS bothered me. it would haunt me for DAYS upon DAYS- especially when someone would say a NAME for pete's sake. i'll bet i have just somehow mentally blocked myself from remembering faces- from looking into so many- searching for that one i thought i would recognize and never did. even when i met her- i saw nothing familiar in the face of my birth mother. somehow she didn't look at all like the mother i buried and i still don't quite understand that- even tho i do really. how could i not.

who wants to KNOW??

dear it is the PM diary,

nothing makes me want to write about the nasty more than the night time diary. but the fucktards are all still awake and it makes me feel funny to share anything when they have their beady little eyes gazing upon me as they pass by. if i should smile or look like i am happy- it is cause for alarm- and pause- and a quick check as to what i may be 'into' and fuck all the babysitting shit. plus- i am now afraid there has been a security breech- of all things- i do my very best to try and keep these things under wraps but- sometimes shit happens. and while ultimately- i don't care- i do care- but i don't care- but i do care- but at the end of the day- i don't. i love the end of the day. you know why? because that is when it is just you and me. that is when you cant hide from the truth. and i don't have ANYTHING to hide from. i am true to the people who matter and nice to the people who don't, and the only person deserving of my bitterness- gets ALL that i have to offer. i'm thinking she knows who she is. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE!! picking out the new carpet would have been fun this week- but going to see my cousin with my dad seems more appropriate. i could do both, but seemingly, now isn't going to be the right time to walk on a new floor. there is nothing wrong with my old carpet anyway- nothing that can't be unprofessionally cleaned.

downTown

dear bounce bounce diary,

how low can you go? pretty much fading out. i cant believe its this late already. dream come true. it's easy to plan ahead now. plus i've been up for a long stretch. i think we are going up to the windy city this weekend- i need some new jeans. i packed away my all my true religion's and now ima go get another pair- or two-  because i feel the need. i am supposed to meet a guy to pick up some material he wants me to go over- if he can make it saturday- if he cant- he can just mail it- cuz that is prolly when ima get there. i was looking forward to meeting this fine fella in person- we've been talking for a minute. i am so excited to see what he brings me- i am excited to see what he has. plus i want a new pair of jeans- i could just settle for one prolly. and i want to eat at al's and that's about it for the day.

if found.. please CaLL

dear production ceremony diary,

i know what it's all about. it took me long enough to figure it out, true, but once i finally did, i did and that is all that matters at the end of the day. i am honored (really) that people thought enough of me to clue me in as much as they did. clearly, i could have been left out, for the umpteenth time, and that would have pissed me off. rule one. don't follow rules. rule two. don't make rules. rule three. always remember there IS no rule three. i'm serious. remembering the days when a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was the highlight of the whole entire afternoon and morning combined- and even better if frito's came with- and even way better with cheetos in a factory sealed bag- i couldn't imagine being a kid now and the standards being set with juice packs and frozen yogurt sticks. my mom would still rock the lunchroom out- even in my holly hobby lunch pail that to this day smells the exact same way- with, 'Trixie West,' written neatly down the outside in marker- like someone else had one- or would steal it- or maybe i was gunna forget my name. my careful mother- always worried. i wish someone would have written her name on her. maybe we wouldn't have lost her.

new MENU and VENUE

dear plea to a lesser charge diary,

admitting to anyone that i am less than perfect is somewhat hard- because i am so close to being perfect- it ain't even funny. like if i was any closer to being perfect- i dunno, i'd have to beat men off with clubs prolly. everyday i'd bet. oh that would be hard- picking who to beat off last. betcha i'd have some wicked upper body strength from all that beatin. i'd have to train myself to wait. i really suck at waiting. but i don't getta beat anybody. the desire is there, trust me. one day i will rise and snap and beat things around me. then i will feel like a greek goddess with garlic breath. i will destroy all evil mosquitoes around me. all flying and resting and sucking mosquitoes will be dead. i do hate mosquitoes because they love my sweet blood. i am a walking ice cream sundae with whipped cream and a cherry and no nuts. sometimes i want nuts, but the smell of warm nuts is nasty on a hot day. i like hot dogs plain in a soft bun- oh man do i ever. especially on a picnic or maybe at a ball game- or wherever. just spread out a blanket and under the stars- that's Heaven- knowing i'd be asleep in your arms by eleven. that's how i'd have it if your arms were mine- but then they are not- and that is just fine. because i am just perfect the way i am- so instead of a hot dog- i will have ham.

i love funny people

dear here we all are diary,

i keep looking at craigland- someone is really making me laugh tonight. i love pictures of roadkill. there are some good ones on there tonight. i am the one that pulls over to take pictures of dead things along side the road. you gotta give people credit that do that. it doesn't seem like much when you see the pictures, but let me tell you something right here and now, gettin a good roadkill shot FUCKING STINKS LIKE FUCK. next time you see a good picture of some roadkill- keep in mind the trouble it took to get that picture. spotting the cadaver, pulling over, getting back to the subject, avoiding traffic, holding your nose- minimal upwind breathing- the rush of getting the perfect picture- DID IT SAVE??- waving at passing traffic- flipping off the honkers who scare you- believe me- nothing is worse when you get back to the car and realize the pictures didn't save and you gotta do it all over again. so yeah.

funny dog

dear if it was anyone else diary,

the grump has now iced my cake. his reaction to all the commotion has been, oh how can i say this, less than what i would expect. anytime anyone raises their voice- he starts his shit- adding his opinions- making sure he is heard over and above anything- until the issue of the vacuum came up- and its like the grump took prince harry's side with his silence. he sat there and let him verbally terrorize me- in levels you could not imagine- and the grump just sat there. i wonder if he tunes it out- i want to do that. i cant. prince harry comes at me full blast and my hair grows. i would do anything not to hear that shit- to just lay on the floor and snore. oh but as soon as i say one word when grump jumps up to run his mouth- that ain't fair. it ain't. i just got started. so harry can stand there and yell straight at my face- but i say one word and the grump's hair is out of place. yeah- i saw the hair on his back- it was funny- he got his hack- just cuz i responded to what harry said and told his ass to 'go to bed!'

SUPER WHORE (damn you)

dear time to get some backbone diary,

i am awake now and i ain't taking this shit. i am not going to scrunch myself in the corner of my couch and be yelled at for putting the vacuum cleaner in my kid's room. THAT IS REFUCKINGTARDED. ima shut his phone off, chain him to his bed, beat him with sticks, and dump cold water on him while i make him watch reruns of barney. i will show him who is the boss. he drives me nuts sometimes. boot camp. what ever happened to boot camps? i should have ate him when he was a baby. omg. i would trade him for a cow or a riding lawnmower about now. this offer will prolly expire soon after this has posted- but will prolly become available again at any given time. so anyway..... i'll prolly be up for mother of the year again- but i sure hope i don't get it. the work that it takes to get that special award is just devastating to the inner self. one person cant DO IT ALL. i really cant. but i do try...

please shut uP

dear old world diary,

in the old days, i'd be churning butter or milking the cows or plucking feathers outta the chicken we'd be preparing to fix as dinner or some dumb shit. instead, im sittin on the couch watching the early news- waking up- listenin to prince harry throw a fit because i put the vacuum in his room. i wish i could saddle up my horse and go, but i'd have to put my pants on and i'm really not up to doing all that. so here i sit and suffer- i wish i could say in silence- but that ain't the case. when i imagined my life as i was growing up- never once did i see myself in the corner of a couch wishing i could vanish into thin air. it does no good to squint my eyes like i did as a child- making the wish while squeezing them shut hard- to submit myself to the wild. cuz just as soon as i open them back up- i am right where i was- smushed in the corner of my couch. but pretty soon it will be time to dream again, so at least i can look forward again to that. in the old days i'd be churning butter- at least i would have something quiet to do, but cutting the head off a chicken- that sounds like fun too. 

5 alarm nap (none set)

dear i made it to two diary,

yip, i did it. i made it to two and now i am done. maria came and loaded the dishwasher- cleaned the upstairs bathroom and left. it smells good in here. i am gunna sleep all afternoon. i betcha i have dreams of my mom too. cuz of all the cleaning smells. that will be a nice little treat for me- i always like to dream about her. i might go to work tonight if i get up in time. but i prolly wont. ain't shit out for dinner. night y'all. ttyl. xoxoxo

fuck a bouQuet

dear once again diary,

today is a divine and outstanding day. i am mortified that the rest of the day will turn out better than the beginning, but iffin it does, i am prepared for that outcome. i feel guilty. a heavy blanket of thick pain that warns me of the other side of the life that other people live everyday. my dad just called. my cousin steve is in very bad shape. it makes you take stock in what you have- watching someone you love fight to keep what they had. i don't understand how the cards get dealt- which flowers live and which flowers wilt.

HoMe SweeT HoMe

dear trixie moonves diary,

yea, being trixie moonves has its perks, but being trixie chen is way better. having a choice is what is really cool and i love being a cbs whore. i wouldn't want to be on cable- cuz to me- cbs is cable- i never could get it without it- so wtf? cbs is married to time warner and time warner owns cnn and my favorite hln- so as far as every other channel BLOWS- they can just not exist. i grew up a cbs kid. SHOUT OUT Y&R!! even when you travel- cbs owns the billboards- you'll see the eye logo. a few years ago i got a bad ASS necklace for christmas. it looks like the cbs eye. it was my favorite gift. i love that necklace- and still do. all i can say is CHARLIE SHEEN WAS SO STUPID.

looking for the WhorE

dear unknown kind of diary,

hello. trixie is unavailable today. so i am stepping in. you will like me better. i don't sleep as much and never hard core curse. i am much easier to get along with and i take showers. i know you can already tell the difference. trixie gets on my nerves when she rambles. she is like that long stretch of highway that never ends. did you know that when they built the highways- they purposely put curves into what could otherwise be straight sections to keep people alert and more aware of where they are going? God threw curves into people too- and i am not talking about their bodies necessarily, altho, curves happen to be in abundance there as well. i never ever get bored around trixie. sometimes my eyes get sore and stuck from rolling them so far back in my head- but bored- never. i want to travel in time with her- she has that shit figured out. she makes the best meatloaf too. the first time i met trixie, i didn't like her- not one bit. she was loud and thought she was all that- and turns out she was- and that pissed me off- cuz that meant i was all that too. but i didn't know it at the time, nobody ever does- until it is to late- then you figure it out.

PAY UP PLAYER

dear summin it up diary,

so let me get this straight. you prolly went to work today, i'm guessing the city will never get rid of your moral ass. so you are married to cuntface, you have an order of protection against me (the whore) AND now you have a young mother with a child living in your hole with you. why is this so studly? why are you held in the highest regard? you put your tiny dick on the internet and advertised for male sex- does the new one know that shit? does she know you are "hot to the touch?" does cuntface know what your doing? spreading your filthy disease further across town? have you been honest with your new sexual partner(s)? did you tell her about the prostitutes? because rosa KNOWS the girl that blew you honey- you gave her twenty bucks- that monday morning you got off work- omg- i know tooooo much. you know i know and its a shame- i know the people i do- but i know them already and those people have souls- just like me and you. now you live up in the hood- and i cant help but watch- i have eyes even when i ain't there and the calls NEVER stop. keep it on the real- cuz people do find out- this town is way to small. be honest in everything that you do or your cards prolly will fall.

warning to the new one

dear message to the new girl diary,

i couldn't go to bed without unburdening myself of just one more thing. i want you to know that- i realize how happy you are right now and i am NOT going to fuck with that. AT ALL. enjoy it- enjoy the deep tissue massages and all the pillow talk and empty promises- for whatever you can get- and the oral sex- cuz you sure ain't gunna get pounded by that man. anyway. when it's over- it's over- BAIL. the water will get fucking unbelievably rough- and if you need me- you know where i am. i'll do whatever i can to help you. it ain't him you are gunna be needin help with. IT'S HER. be prepared to go to jail for shit you ain't never done. it is to late for me- but it AIN'T to late for you. you may think i am full of shit now honey- but that bitch saw me wearing a red coat and thought i worked at target. take my warning. you'll figure out him in due time on your own, but that woman he is married to is evil. that cunt will fuck you and cream her pants doing it. she is a suicidal cuntface. beware.

wonder what happened to julie??

dear people of all ages diary,

that is a page i can live with. i am happy with that. i love those shoes. i got them in tuscola, illinois in 1998, and i paid sixty five dollars for them and still wear the shit out of them today. well not today i didn't, but i will again very soon. i like them because- with socks- they are complete shoes. when worn without socks- they are sandals. here is the part i love LOVE love. when worn with socks with holes in the toes- as demonstrated- it is like wearing a shoe in the back and a sandal in the front- and that is the JESUS of all shoes. i put that hole in that sock, BTW, it was a brand NEW sock. the hole went with my outfit- and my hair. so whatever works. my job here tonight has finally ended. i am to hang up my crown and go home. oh wait, i am home. ima go to bed then. becky is leaning on me. i hope old cuntface took the news okay. man oh man. it sure is tough being a criminal. i am just glad she has someone new to stalk. LOL.

high milEage toejob

dear foot alarm diary,

that is one super scary picture of my foot. i promise not to leave it there long. i'll change it later today. maybe sooner if i think about it. i should put the boot back. i liked it and that sure wasn't even my favorite pair. those were my old pair i call my 'work boots.' i garden in those and get them wet. i know it just ain't gunna sit right with me seeing my foot like that- it was the end of an ugly polish color too- last summer when i was hot- waitin in the car and shit. i KNOW i have a better picture than that. geez. oh i do. i'll change it. xoxoox

Funky Fresh

dear downside of the upside diary,

one of these days- kaboom- lights out- it might all be over. so if everyone else is gunna go around and pretend it's 'business at usual,' i guess i will too. ain't no sense in throwing in the towels now- i think i'll wait until someone comes and takes the bitches. good thing we got them tornado sirens. they might end up coming in handy. i need to make sure all my socks are clean and i got enough wash soap for the hE washing machine. i'll hang tight until i take flight- or die. or whatever is in store, but i just hope the good Lord sees fit to release me from the ORDER OF PROTECTION- sos i don't die a danger to my fellow victims. that would be embarrassing to get to Heaven and explain to all my kin- how i am still dealing with all that dumb shit and the world has come to an end. you know if that's what happened to me- you best better watch your fucking backs. because if it looks like we are at the end of time honey- i'm knocking at both your fucking doors and i ain't looking back. fuck that piece of paper- i got some serious shit to say (real talkin) and you will hear my fucking fat ass mouth or on the pavement you will lay. you will smell (or lick) my fucking ass crack and i cant wait to hear you read this in court, it will be hard to keep from laughing- but remember THIS WAS ALL UNDER THE CONTEXT OF THE WORLD ENDING.  so i hope nobody feels threatened- cuz i don't have any plans. nobody took any of my towels yet- and i haven't heard ANY sirens. 

well?

dear finding a reason diary,

i don't need a reason to paint my nails. i don't need to flash my drive. you don't need a reason to come inside. you live here. it is a matter of fact that we choose to act and reside this way and i am far from ashamed. neither of us has a lead on where our hearts will go and neither understands why this is okay but we know- for the time that's what works and that is how it will be- and pretty soon again alone- you and me. we will have finished the cycle and stayed through the show- and neither of us ever once decided to go. i tried. how i tried. and still try to this day. but i never can seem to get away. i am safe. i am warm. sometimes i am happy. so why isn't that enough?

that's my preTTy peNis

dear that would suck diary,

it would suck to've been born a panty liner- or a tampon for that matter, but a panty liner- no way. all that rubbin and what not- no. men are so lucky. they really are. all my life i have wanted to secretly and delicately hold my very own penis at the dinner table. i suppose in a way- i want to have dinner with my own penis- but it wouldn't have its own plate setting or anything- i just want to have it out and touch it while i eat. to many of you that may sound kindof weird- but i can assure you- it ain't. see, i want to make little outfits for my penis. maybe a dinner jacket and tie. it would have a bath robe- a night gown- oh yes- a long flowing nightgown- and lots of hats- definitely lots of head attire- fedoras and the like. i would hang pictures of it all dressed up in my favorite designs too- but only in my private bathroom- i would let only my current and former lovers view my collection of art. i would be the perfect keeper of my tool and i would be famous.

to my GruMPy boy

dear out of guilt alone i write this diary,

yes, i have love for the other dog as well. technology will most certainly record and take witness to the fact that i wrote one animal a love letter and most conveniently left the other one out, so i will now take the time to future correspond on the love of my other animal unit. it is the way that you sleep sideways in the bed- placing uneven body weight on my legs, that causes my knee jerk love reaction. it is your loud, obsessive, relentless, obnoxious. snoring, which you do when you are awake, that deepened my everlasting commitment of certain love and admiration for you. it is your constant back talking and threatening attitude that makes me want to get right up in your face and show you how much i love you. it is your protective and forceful nature that i find amusing when there is no threat. i love the way you rub your butthole on me and hump all of my friends. if you were not the most beautiful smartest dog on the planet- you would not be alive and loved so deeply. i really love you.





to my becky girl

dear that little noise you make diary,

i know you cant read this, but ima write it anyway in hopes that with all the technological advances maybe in the years to come- somehow you will- or one just like you will- and then they will know how much i loved you. cuz i do- more than anything. the way you make that sigh noise when you are comfortable- oh God- it tears me apart. it's the way you lay your arm over your mouth when you sleep. it's the way you let me hold you so tightly against my breast. it's the way you let me sleep with a fist full of your skin. baby it is the way you look at me in the morning. it is the way your skin smells behind your ears. it's the way you always want to go to bed when i do- even when we just got up. and it's the way you stay with me til i fall asleep and then sneak away- and sneak back before i wake up again. i know you dream about me. i dream about you. thank you for loving me becky. i fucking love the fuck out of you.

miss WHORE USA 2011

dear if i were beautiful diary,

people have certain jobs that were issued at birth- not the jobs you get paid to work. we all have tiny talents hiddin within- and the ones that don't- are the ones that just get to be pretty as sin. i didn't get kicked over in to the 'butt ass ugly' line, but i am not the striking beauty- the one you'd say that was one of a kind. i mean i ain't gunna make your eyes fall out of your head- and if you woke up next to me- hopefully you wont wish yourself dead. but i ain't gunna win any contest- not for my body or face- i wouldn't come in second or third either- i wouldn't even place. i do know what my strongest attributes are- without a doubt and it didn't take me long to figure those out. i can take a room full of quiet ordinary people- and turn each one of them into loud socializing creatures. people are quite drawn to me- they feel a sort of familiarity. i think it is the comfort of my smile- and my ease and happy laid back style. if i were stunningly beautiful- people would be scared- scared i was to good for them to even share- a moment of my time- or even a word- i  really do speak to everyone- i am not a turd. i am glad i ain't ugly- like most cuntfaces are- so dependent on makeup and credit cards- they have to buy beauty and all the nice things- just to get the attention it brings. being a whore is my job- and i think i do it well. i make lots of people so happy about themselves, so- ugly haters GO TO HELL.

whore times

dear taking a nap is better than anything diary,

finally, i feel like a person again. i was beginning to wonder how that was going to end up for me. i mean i understand the philosophy behind recharging batteries- it is basically the same as sleeping- but my batteries take longer to charge i guess. i know this and stay plugged in to my bed longer- but sometimes that still doesn't help. then someone will come along and ask, "whore, are you depressed?" WELL FUCK TO THE NO I AIN'T DEPRESSED AND I WISH MOTHER FUCKERS WOULD STOP AXIN ME THAT. do i look depressed? usually? today i might- but USUALLY- DO I? i would say i am clinically tired? hello? give me another sleep study- and in 2.5 minutes- ill enter REM and then you can diagnose me. after a good sleep tonight- i will be in tip top sleep shape and ready for a routine week. back to my regular three naps a day and life is as it was.

The Welcome Wagon

dear whore sister diary,

welcome. you don't know it yet, but you have joined a big club. i seem to be the voice for us all. i am sure you've enjoyed all of the details by now, if not, ask for all the court papers- be sure to sit upon a towel while reading- i've had more people piss from laughing than not. all the pictures they make reference to can be found here in the archives of my blog (btw). eventually, you'll be able to read the court transcripts on my other blog- but i cant seem to get that finished- something to look forward to. now that you have direct access to the product in question- you'll hear the definite ring of truth in all my shit. anyway... i cant get into this now- i feel like ima puke- thinking of the beanbag mess and the rapid fire express and the carpooling and everything you have to go through now- all of the nasty requests and the sick constant badgering. my quick advice- charge him for that shit girl- from the start. you are NOTHING but a whore. you need to get something out of it besides an STD you cant get rid of... it's gunna cost you more in clean up expenses.

on like the Kong

dear out of the hole again diary,

sometimes it isn't good to stawk. learning is a curve that will go left- even when the wheel is straight on the beaten path- even when you know where the little dirt road is going- even when you've been down that road a hundred and some odd times-or so- even so- it makes you lose your place in time- makes you glad you dropped the dime- makes you wish you could hang up a sign- to let cuntface know how right you were. i can't believe he went for brown hair- and was that a baby she was carrying out of there? LMAO I THINK IT WAS another child to molest- another sweet kidney- omg ARE YOU KIDDING ME? i could be jealous- i will admit- he needs to be with his WIFE- i believe they are the perfect fit. all those years he couldn't leave her for me- and now he's starting over with a woman in a WHITE SUBURBAN AND A BABY? i'll write more to the new girl in just a minute.

times like these

dear what can you do diary,

tomorrow maria comes to clean the house again and i'll tell you what- there ain't a whole lot to be done now. ima let her come and see what it is she thinks she can do. but there wont be much. i am glad to have this spring shit behind me- the walls were certainly a mess. maria did most of them- but the ones we couldn't get to are finished now- she left me with the best. if they came for me- i was sleeping whila go and did not here them knock. i have been waiting years tho now- so i am certain they didn't come and that is no shock. i am going to leave here now- without any of my things- so you know i will be back real soon- unless good fortune brings- a place for me to find myself in a calm easy space.

i thought YOU knew

dear fighting the urge to sleep diary,

i am a warrior. i am a princess with a sword. i can sling off the best of the best. but there is one beast i can not master, and that is sleep. it can take a hold of me in an instant and win. there will be no battle. i lay at the feet of the beast at all times- i cry at the mercy of its every wish. it calls me now- and i resist- but it knows i will succumb. i feel its clenches tighten and i will not deny its grip, it does no good. finally resting my head on the pillow- will comfort me in ways that always make me feel safe and needed.  for a whole lot of reasons- i heal in my bed- and become that person i was when you held me against your chest for those few moments when i know that you did love me. i will go there again now- only because i will take you with me and nobody else will be there- except becky.


 i love you. imda.