the public ordeal

dear living the dream diary,

tonight i sure was in for a treat. a delight for the eyes. i never get tired of seeing a man dig in his crotch. it makes you wonder what he's got up in there. it must be really crowded in there to hafta keep hand scootchin around like that all the time. i dunno- i try and keep my hands out of that area when i am out in public. if i was a man tho, i swear i would cut holes in all my pockets- a secret passage. so nobody could see me. 

rocket science

dear ordering pizza is for pussies diary,

i am burping blanks. yummy. i have been awake now a record time. the grump longs to be set free. he sits at the open door and looks out across the yard as if the vast wilderness of unknown tortures his every sense. he has been out there a million times- yet he knows- it would be different now- better prolly. his patience inspires me. his body trembles- yet he lays there- so still- his eyes squinting. if the door would fly open- his every desire would be instantly and easily met. the clear glass keeps him at bay- the light still warms his chest. as i shut the front door- his eyes no longer smile- he will move to the window- after a while. 

let freedom ring

dear no bets this week diary,

and still gunna make it to a buck. damner. with a hammer. and i got my work done. and i painted my snails. and i only took one day off from work, but picked up an extra shift. i dunno how it all worked out, but it did. i musta had alot of shit on my mind this week. but i cant even remember what it was. that's weird to've accumulated this many posting in one time slot without any major event- or bet- or any trigger causing such a spike. odd. no holiday. no arrest. no appliance breaking down. totally a random spike. it's been so easy too- the one week i had that bet- every post to get to a hundred was like pulling teeth from a mouth that had no teeth. i don't lose bets, so, i did it, but it was HARD. this week- i'm almost at a hundred- and i could do a hundred more. today. right now. but ima go to bed instead because some dumb whore kept me up all night talking. fucking bitch. if i knew who she was- i'd club her flat ass. all she does is drivel. i think her name is trixie- she drinks that fuckin cherry/grape juice all the time and i hear her singing martina mcbride in the bathtub sometimes- bitch can NOT sing independence day.

not a silent plea

dear shut the fuck up diary,

i just would not shut up last night. that is all i did was talk talk talk. i even had the dogs barking once. i was babbling so damn much i don't even remember what i was saying. i was starting to get pissed OFF. how do you shut yourself UP? do you just wake up and have the conversation to appease yourself? find out what's goin on? deal with it? then return to sleep? what can i do to help? shakes of mercy. ima start tying a bandanna- a scarf around my head- a fucking sock in my mouth, it gives me the willies. it would be cool if i were blurting out the lotto numbers for tonight. but no. nope. or, or, or, the next top tweet on twitter. nope. or- my next topic for the blog post... which undeniably i prolly did and cant remember. this has to change. please people. i need ideas. help me shut up at night. you are helping so much during the waking hours- now help me when i sleep.

if you see the train a comin

dear bend over diary,

i bet everyone shits their pants every once in awhile. once, when i was small- prolly six- maybe seven- i'd say six- it sounds better- i shit my pants down at the farm and i didn't know what to do. grandma burned all the garbage- she'd see my panties- or worse smell them burning for fucks sake- so i didn't know what i was going to do AT ALL. i took my sears robuck & co underwear to the shed with a spoon from the kitchen drawer and i buried them in the corner of dirt floor. i packed dirt over them and stomped them tightly down so nobody would ever know what had happened. when i got back home, my mom knew i had a pair of underwear missing. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT?  knew which ones they were and all. i told her i left them at grandma's. she told me to BRING THEM HOME. i'd say twenty years later- the unibomber and i were nosing around down at the farm one day. that shed where i'd hid my shitty pants had long fallen over- but that corner was somehow still assessable. with little effort i scratched and pulled the remaining waistband from the soil. "ima bring these home," i said. and i did.

sleeping tighter all nighter

dear i hear that voice again diary,

it calls me like it does every night, like it does during the day, like it does in the morning. i hear that same voice over and over all the time- cept now- it screams, "TRIXIE- TRIXIE COME- COME YOU RETARDED WHORE!" oh i fucking will. i ain't ready yet. i have already been there once- it sucked. it's hot. and stuffy. and my pillow is fluffy. and becky ain't ready. so i got up. there were no apparitions at the refrigerator- none i could feel or see tonight. i am sitting here in the dark- daring them to make themselves known- but nothing but twitter postings coming through on my cell phone. the snake is still out and hunting again for food- which i think is especially greedy and rude- she just ate two rats the other day- seventeen bucks- she'll be waiting some more okay. good night dear readers i will post again soon- but don't look for me to be up before noon. love you all. xoxxooxox

it was a just canoe too, btw

dear falling over sideways diary,

injured, alone, walking beach side- i can see you in the future. i think your boat sank some time before my window into your coming days. you'll be okay after the period of grief ends. you asked me once if i would tell you how it would all turn out. well, i just did. took me long enough huh? i keep the curtains drawn- pulled tightly closed- knowin what i'll be missin out on- i don't wanna know. at the moment you die- you lose an average weight of 21 grams- so it is thought that the soul weighs approximately that much. i would guesstimate that your soul weighs a considerate amount less-  like somewhere in the neighborhood of 8 grams. i would assume your boat didn't sink because you were on it. you prolly watched it from ashore. you aren't man enough to go down with your vessel.

trailer park trash

dear rebate diary,

i don't mind fixing up other things people find trash. i feel pretty awesome when i'm using something that works perfectly fine that was supposed to be garbage- dead- worthless. sometimes you just have to look at something and know it's good. it's long been known- 'one man's trash is another man's treasure,' but it's true. sometimes people can be treasures too. you just pull 'em out of the trailer park- clean 'em up- and you got pretty new skanks to look at. i don't think there is anything wrong with being a skank, i used to be one- before i was a whore. you can take the trash out of the park, but you can never take the skank out of the whore.

poInt of entry

dear one would assume diary,

going in will be the worst part. i am not looking forward to it. i thought about going through the window- but that would look absolutely retarded. i am going to move the garbage toter over to the bedroom window- to make it easier to get things out- but even that wont be much help i am afraid. everything has to come out of there- so the new carpet can go in. painting the walls and ceiling- that will sure be fun- by next weekend- it needs to all be done. i dunno why this shit always has to happen RIGHT when i have something important to do, but what the fuck should i expect- waiting to get permission from YOU KNOW WHO.

get it RIGHT

dear bitches ain't seen bullying diary,

oh my fucking goodness. can you believe the shit they will buttfucking put on the news these days? the CREEPER is being (falsely) accused of being an INTERNET BULLY. what a POOR example of this new term of behavior. twice in TWO DAYS, he's made the top ten news stories and i read EVERYTHING he's posted- and even know a couple of the people in the pictures- and I AM NOT OFFENDED BY ANYTHING I SAW. IT DID NOT CHANGE MY LIFE. i have a sense of humor- and i am the VICTIM of real LIFE bullying- and i lived- i got tougher SKIN because of it and i FIGHT BACK (SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE) so internet bullying? there was NO THREATS MADE- none that i saw. you wanna start throwin those big terms around.... hows about MEDIA BULLYING?

pencil-vain-yeah

dear there was a bear in my freezer and it woke up diary,

i know plenty of things that are not relevant to daily life or good fortune, but dreaming of a big brown bear in your freezer has got to mean something- especially when it wakes up just as you are figuring out- it is in fact- a bear. whoever had put the bear in the freezer must have known it was going to wake up- because there were packages and packages of frozen fish stacked neatly across from the bear. i thought it was bacon- until i saw the eyeballs- knowing bacon doesn't have eyeballs, or not the bacon i consume anyway, i knew then it was fish, meaning that was a bear- and hellow bear- it woke up. i ran out screaming- in my dream- and out of my bedroom. now, to date, my experience with bears has been minimal. i always look at the bears in the zoo- and i saw a real one once in pennsylvania, as we sat on a real bear rug while picking out the beans from green beans with that little girl who had PKU (phenylketonuria), so how i knew the bear would eat the prepackaged fish- is beyond me. but i am awake now and the grump has assured me there are no bears in sight. whew. hope there are no cubs either. i hate them cubs. lol.

hot fluoride nest

dear Jesus in the sky diary,

i need to brush my teeth or gargle with acid because my breath be stankin. ain't no beating around a bush about this fact- the brush would soon be a dead bush- brittle even- for i could burn the life out of anything living with one short sentence. it sometimes scares me how long i am willing to go without brushing my teeth. i would brush them more- if i had a reason. i floss constantly- i am addicted to it actually- and i can not stand the feeling of shit in my teeth- omg- just the thought drives me insane- but i don't kiss anybody anymore (except becky) and the truth is- well... that is the truth. so i dunno. i floss. then i rinse with water. so then i know there is no food and i just skip right on off to bed. sounds nasty when i read it. so i usually brush my teeth before i leave the house- but not to just get the mail. but sometimes i don't leave for days, so i prolly should brush more. but i got that new toothbrush for christmas and the head is already almost worn out. so i have been brushing some or it would still be new in the box- so it ain't like i don't brush. and i only have one cavity that ihave had since i was a kid. but its little and been fixed or filled or whatever- on my top left second from the back tooth. all my other teeth are there and happy i suppose. cept my wisdom teeth- i had them out after my braces came off. i'll start brushing more- maybe it'll bring business back up. it cant hurt i suppose. dang.

cha- ching- duh

dear so you think you are a bad ass diary,

why then, do you cry then, just to get a bitch to do shit then, when, the bitch don't want to then? just sayin. cuz if you gotta fucking BELLYACHE to MAKE someone fucking give an INCH-uh, like is it really WORTH all the EFFORT it took when you CUDDuH DUNNIT YOURSAILFuh? just wunnerin? and now you want the dog to move. shit gigs. today reminds me of the day you gave my pineapple lamp away to the neighbors across the street AND made me take it over to their house. you knew i loved that ugly ass lamp. i loved it with every fiber of my being. painting all the leaves on it with the model paint you stole from KB toys and kmart was the most fun i had that winter when you were in jail for driving on revoked. i loved those ninety days. but when you gave it away after you single handily, 'bought our new couch,' and decided it no longer matched our decor- then somehow talked me into submission, well, i just want you to know- i am not that whore anymore. i can buy my own paint now and i wont do anything you tell me to do- except what i did earlier- and that's just because i took some of that money when i went to the bank stupid. never send a woman to the bank after your money. just sayin.

next thing you know

dear under the light of the missing moon diary,

ima need more than a flashlight to get through this. a brick just fell on my head. it didn't hurt, but it took the wind out of me. all my life i've been practicing for a certain job. a week from tomorrow- i put my hard work and practice to use and present it in the tightest cleanest package possible. i ain't even nervous. there's no need. one way or the other- fate either will or will not intercede. this time will be my last time- unless i change my mind- i don't do it every year- just when i can honestly devote the chunk of time. this year would be perfect- my calendar is clear and with next year being our last year on earth- i don't wanna do it then. maybe ima mayan- i dunno but i do, unfortunately, believe in that shit. gosh, i hope i am wrong.

that's my grill

dear becky is retarded too diary,

well, i learned something during my slumber-less slumber last night. becky is a retarded whore. when we first got to bed- she INSISTED on sleeping with her feet towards me, which i think was some sort of message. then- less than an hour after we went to bed- she wanted to get up and go outside and started her licking bullshit. when she wants to wake me up without asking- she will lick her lips- like smack them over and over- instead of just announcing, "OUT!" and i'd rather she just vocalize her need and be done with it. so i get up, let her out, post, get back in bed- and now she wants her ass in my face and gunna GROWL under her breath when i SUGGEST she turn around a lay the right way. i had to laugh. becky growled at ME. oh no she DINT. it took her the better part of two years to get the nerve to growl at me- and it had to be an april fool's joke- HAD TO BE. i thumped her in the head and rolled over and she thinks we are cool today. she hasn't tried to love up on me yet. i aint quite sure how it will be. she's still so damned cute tho.





a faded rose from days gone by

dear you have the right to remain silent diary,

but i always hear you talking. why cant i at least sing sometimes? my mom played the organ. i love to eat at the organ stop pizza place in mesa. last time i was there i requested the lady to play DELTA DAWN and she sure did. back then you got a coupon or some shit if the bitch couldn't play the song you asked for. the pizza really wasn't worth a damn- but that ain't why you go there. you went to see that big ass pipe organ set up- that fucker was a creepy son of a bitch. straight out of a horror film. i ain't never seen anything like it. it played just like a damned regular organ- but it was a monster bitch. ida hated to hafta polish that sucker. we saw a shooting star the night we ate at the organ stop. it was the biggest star i'd ever seen falling from the sky. it was so hot that night my body couldn't sweat. it was a stupid dry dumb heat. fucking 100 degrees at midnight. the moon seems closer when you're out west- the clouds bigger. everything is faster but the time. it stood still at the mouth of the pipes of that organ. it really was the last time i saw grandpa smile at me.  

people are jealous

dear that is so sad diary,

i just broke into the creepers website and it was not hard (incidentally anyone can do it) and i am soooo disappointed it ain't even funny. here the local news made it out to be this HUGE story about a dude who went around taking pictures of people at bars around town and posting them on his blogspot blog- LIKE MINE- with little narratives with the pictures- and he would also go to facebook and swipe peoples vacation pictures and re-post them. i thought his website was in very good taste- he never used foul language- or anyone's name. clearly the bar pictures- the subjects were intoxicated in public- some even posed for the pictures- and the facebook photos were already on the internet- so i dunno- what's the big deal? if you don't like what he said about your picture- here's an idea... don't put it on the internet. dude has eighteen THOUSAND hits on his site- he's obviously pleasing someone. i say leave him be. let the creeper creep.

ready to BOX the EX

dear rock- paper- scissors- diary,

who will end up getting it? around my house tonight- i'd give it to the rock. i am about ready to clock this mother fucker upside his head if he don't sit down and quit looking for shit like a CRACKHEAD. last night it was the USB cord for his blackberry- so he could 'clean it up,' and tonight it's the other remotes for the xbox 360. i've heard, "i paid fifty bucks for each for those and you don't give a fuck," so many times- if i hear it again- i'll prolly snap- because for one, i paid for the last two cordless ones he HAD to have and TWO- i didn't touch that shit- i could care less about any of it. i play scrabble on it- and haven't done that for over a fuckin year now- suck my dick. so... it makes me nervous for people to ransack through shit and curse. i mean i HATE that. hopefully he is about to give up- because if not- i am so about ready to start. it may end up an ugly ordeal- at 1:45AM.

incognito

kudos to the CREEPER

dear on the news tonight diary,

after what i saw on the news tonight (SHOUT OUT CREEPER) i know for a fact cuntface has tried to have me arrested for my blog. i already KNOW i ain't committing no crime. i'll post a picture of that ugly bitch any ole time i want. i am AMERICAN and i have those little bitty things called RIGHTS. i can run my free speech havin ass anymftime i want. i'll bet you any amount of money- ANY AMOUNT- she's made a visit downtown and sat with the detectives and expressed how distraught she is because of my CONTINUOUS drivel and pictures i CONSTANTLY POST revealing who she is- prolly anyone could figure out who she is and where she lives by walmart north off ash. oh and how i called her 'RABBIT TOOTHED.' i started busting a nut when i saw the report on the news tonight. everytime i see the bitch she has a pair of sunglasses perched on her fat head. get a headband cuntface- if you need to pull your hair back. i dunno- but- people are allowed to have opinions- even when they sting. ima whore- i should know.

last to whine

dear i am always the last to know diary,

fucking ronnie james dio died on my birthday last year i think- sos that's prolly why i am always the last to know everything. it was the final clue for me. i'll have the message sent in a bottle and they'll crack it over your head when it gets there. putting theory into practice can be a challenge sometimes. i recruit all types of ultimate drama before i make any ultimate decision. my brain releases chemical hormones that act as a swat team when i'm around extreme drama. so when a message is delivered- my mind depends on that sudden onset of drama to get my mind working- otherwise i may lose composure during this process and my legs  will shake and- i'll chicken out. stress can be a great stimulant- and if you practice over and over in your mind how you will create this drama- it becomes easy to give an oscar winning performance. panic is long since gone after you forget that you've induced the arousal on your own terms- and not on terms unknown. mind games. MIND GAMES. you see things and do things you that aren't really there and that you wouldn't really do.

part two

dear searching for something i ain't never gunna find diary,

all my life i've been searching for something- or someone to lead me to something that would mean everything to me. it came- so i thought and left so i'm relieved and now i wait again. i know someday i'll be carried away- if not then i'll run off on my own- at least that's what i tell myself when i call myself- and i am there to pick up and answer the phone. i am still on that hunt- let us be blunt- i am stubborn and wont give up now. i have been on this mission for so damn long- i wouldn't even begin to know how.

part one

dear searching for something i've always had and don't need diary,

all my life i've been searching for something. something i already have and something i don't need. i've had it or something just like it- yet- i want another one bad. i thought a new one would be better- so i got it- and it sucked. i know that i got carried away- and deserve to have nothing of my own- at least that's what i tell myself when i am all alone- crying and nobody can hear me. i still own that hurt- wear it like a skirt- and it looks really good on me- i think. training for a mission- there was no special condition- to fall in love with the one who would hurt me. little bitch whore hero cock sucker.

bowling for quarters

dear lamb of march diary,

it is official. my case of coke has lasted over a month. i am no longer tied to the can of caramelized fizz. i drink water now- and quite a bit of the welch's grape/cherry juice- that i LOVE for some reason. i can drink a little bottle of that shit down way fast. way fast. i only have one bottle left of my favorite pop....

 

i'm saving it 'til further notice,' of course. never you mind what is burning in this picture- it was taken a long time ago. ahh. the good ole days. i bet i had JUST gotten off the phone too. i don't have that car i'm in any longer- i can tell by the steering wheel cover. life, (i thought) was so good back then. but only the pop (and cigarette) was. would i go back? yep. i would. only to get the ball rolling sooner.

roof flop garden

dear sleeping rabbits jump when they wake up diary,

holes in logs provide shelter- like apartments for people- rabbits need a place to hang out as well. a ten story high rise log in the sky- a rabbit living in style- wouldn't it be something if we could convince them to walk by the rooftop lettuce- in a single file. i was always for sure for sure i would have a curtain over my big window on a building- but now i feel stupid for thinking somebody would pick my little square of glass to focus in upon- like my life is that appealing. even if i stood in front of the window naked- it would be a big shock if someone would see me. maybe i would paint a picture and lean it up in the window- and only take it down when i wanted to look out. i just want to see a rabbit float past my window at night- that way i know i am sleeping and not eating pudding.

leader of the band

dear dan diary,

why is it that everytime i mention dan fogelberg in a post people flock to it like seagulls? am i not the only lover of him? dan fogelberg- dan fogelberg- dan fogelberg... you are all under a spell... you are all now trixie patriots- each of you- go forth and spend hours kissing ugly people passionately- with your tongues. i think he was from galesburg, illinois- or peoria or somewhere- i dunno- i always thought that. everyone said i was a 'nerd' for liking his music, but the words went with the song man- and that's important. i was born after i should have been- and i know that. clearly i am older than i should be- but at the same time- i do not act my age. i'm lucky as fuck in the respect that when i tell people how old i am- they straight call me a liar. to my face. my son's friends thought i was his girlfriend- and that happened at the cracker barrel too. our waitress got a fat fucking tip. i grew up around the older generation- is what it was. so i got a taste of both worlds. i liked the flavor in my mouth- and it's hard to let that go. i ain't lettin  it go. so ima be an old school kid all my life i suppose. but i like dan fogelberg. idgaf.

apply to be MY intern..... screw charlie

dear i should go diary,

i need to go run a few errands. but i am in no hurry. at all. i don't even feel like leaving- if you were to ask me, but nobody ever does. so that's fine. do you guys think it will ever get warm enough to put the fucking plants outside or what? it is freaking fucking april tomorrow. shit. hellow? i cant take this shit anymore. i had them out once already and had to bring them all back in- like a dumbass. but at least they all got hosed off. fucking dirt- ill tell you what. an inch thick on every leaf on my jade tree. it's a wonder it's still alive. it already grew new clappers from being out the few days it was. so it made it through the winter. my elephant jade is going to spruce right on up too. omg and the trees in the yard have buds all over the bitches. the rose bushes are budding out- tulips are up- and the mums made it. my plugs of zoysia grass from the cemetery are growing in nicely and my tiger lily lived. even the vincia vine came back- and i didn't think it was supposed to. i need to do my shit today because all the idiots will be out tomorrow- but i don't want to leave. fuck. fuck fuck fuck. i need an intern.

LOCAL WHORE 44

dear just knowing diary,

really, when you get down to it, there is nothing on this earth that is more satisfying to me- than being a whore. not right now anyways. when i write- it is just like performing sometimes, i need an audience. if there is no audience- there is no show. i feed on the faces of the people i am talking to- and when typing,  i close my eyes when i am pecking away and there they are- plain as day. i'm not going to even try and lie- it wouldn't do any good- by now- everyone knows- i see cuntface a whole lot. i sometimes spend hours upon hours with the bitch. which is freaky odd to me- the fact that i NEVER dream about her. that is the epitome of leaving my work at 'home.' this woman (word used lightly) has given me more inspiration and satisfaction than i could have ever dreamed imaginable. seeing her face in my head takes me to another conscious level i wouldn't even try to begin to describe- not in words. i know now- i was supposed to be a whore. i am good at it. she blames me for the t-total destruction of all she knew. but- i was one of many. i was one of many. i took the blame for us all. i am the face of the whore union- the voice for all of us. and it's a fucking damned ass shame that man's DICK WAS SO FUCKING SMALL. meeting adjourned.

beginning of the 3rd quarter

dear what my dad used to say diary,

my dad is a abundantly smart man. there hasn't been anyone ever who said anything fucked up about him- at least not while i've been around. he kindof looks like the quaker oatmeal man- on the oatmeal box- and believe me- i wrote the company and told them. all you have to do is put your thumbs over the brim of the quaker dude's hat and there he is... my dad. not joking. they wrote back thanking me for my interest in their product, A FUCKING FORM LETTER- after i'd written a masterpiece AND included a picture. my dad woulda worked for cheap too. prolly for the oatmeal- if you got right down to it. but they fucked up. my dad still looks exactly the same- and i bet i sent that letter over twenty years ago- or close to it. it was around the same time i found the three inch wire in the oscar mayer hotdog. that is another post- or two. dad used to tell me that he could fill a football field with good, honest, and decent men and throw one loser in the bunch- just one scumbag- and turn me loose and i'd find the scumbag and come out arm and arm with him- everytime. dammit if my dad ain't always right. then one day- i brought my dad home a hero- he was so proud. maybe it wasn't too late for his little princess to've found someone worthy in the eyes of her daddy. oops. even big hero's can be scumbags too daddy. back to the football field.

pain a little further south

dear pain behind my earlobe diary,

i know what it is back there- even tho i can not see it. the fucker is tiny, yet radiates pain like it is equal to the size of half my head. it is a tiny white head pimple (that i just squeezed- which oughta bring relief any minute) and it's a good thing i do not wear glasses. the other day the grump had me convinced he was blind- or going blind. he doesn't watch tv like becky- for one- and he doesn't seem to focus like she does on things in the room or yard either. then i remembered- he hates to go for walks on a leash- and pretty much leads with his nose, but then i thought all dogs do that. but he also hits his head on the walls alot when he turns around- i thought it was because he was big- and he uses his paws alot to grab and hold his toys when he is in that protection mode. i blamed many of his behaviors on the autism. then at dinner later on, i'd forgot about him being blind and flipped him a piece of chicken across the room with no warning. the fat fucker caught it. he's blind when he wants to be- when it suits him.

suck and spit the meat

dear treating my hair diary,

i put that stuff on my hair last night- like it said to- then i put a shower cap on- then tied a towel to my head- then i went to bed and slept with it in my hair all night and had a nice quiet- hot- PRIVATE- bath this morning already to rinse it out. i hate being spied on. that's all i wanted to do was wash my hair- get a nut- and put the hair treatment in and do a face masque last night. today is a favorite day- but it somehow doesn't feel like it. not yet anyway. usually i can tell when i first wake up- but today- not yet. but it's only the first time up today tho. the second time is always better. i think i will take my own polish and have the chinese man paint my toes later today. i got them all ready to paint- but the last two times i've set out to do it- i've not completed the task. i need to get it done. today. they are a beautiful clean canvas waiting- i will let the chinese man decorate them with my paint. i am going to now enjoy a refreshing bowl of cream of wheat which i will prepare myself. then i will prolly eat a flavorful orange, or suck on it and spit out the meat because i don't like that part, and prolly write some stupid post about feeding my dog chicken and my ear hurting and then i will be ready to go to bed. have a blessed morning. xoxo

just ad lib Mr. Constantinople

dear in bed diary,

this has suddenly become ridiculous, and taking things to the extreme, i am now posting uncomfortably from in my bed- belly side- no less- spooning becky- typing one-handed- by the dashboard light (paradise), engrossed by the melody of the grumps tender snoring- he's not at full volume yet- the unibomber announces his, 'balls are in a bundle,' what a fucking visual delight. i hate cartoons as i am going to sleep- they make me have bad dreams. this dumb bitch knows this shit- and watches the shit all the time. i think the grump is in his crib- which surprises me allot- for the last two nights he's snuck up here and i let him stay all night. i am tired- ima shut her down and slam this bitch shut. later.

no privacy

dear busted in the bathtub diary,

i can only imagine what i must have looked like- the floor all wet- the tub over flowing- my feet hanging over the side- my eyes rolling back so far in my head- my mouth hanging open wide. my heart was beating so fast and then i noticed him standing there- watching. buzz kill. i sat up real fast but it was a done deal. in his hands was what i'd been threatened with earlier. there was only one way to get myself out of this mess i found myself in and my mouth was already open. it wasn't very long i was back to my bath and i am so glad that shit is over with.

formula 1247.5

dear anything but red diary,

if you wanta wait til you're mourning the morning to read this, you can. i'd prefer you you read it happily at night- but whenever is fine. as a comedy writer, the ability to write is essential. obviously. but the ability to tie in and make connections to things most people would never connect. while there is a method to the madness, i don't know what it is. not exactly. i am working on a written formula. what is the matter? why are you scrunching up your head like that? what you thought everything i wrote was just drivel? what? that every once in awhile when i accidentally made sense- it had to be a mistake right? like every once in a while when they hurry to put out a fire- it was set by arson. mistakes ain't always mistakes and things you think are good ain't always works of art- but i just throw it all in and see what takes start.

❒ON ❒OFF

dear tub soaking in ten diary,

now that i have my cuticles all dug away and trimmed i am going to go soak in the tub and relax in the hottest water my body can stand. for a second i thought i was going to pass out, but i shut my eyes and immediately sat down and the grump came and stood over me like he usually does- but nothing happened. i thought to myself, 'hahahah- got one over on you bitch,' and just as quickly i thought, 'you better stfu.' i argue with myself quite often, but i always win. i suppose it's all in how well a person knows themselves- if they push their own buttons or not. i don't have buttons. i have switches. i'm either ON or OFF. bottom line. i ain't got one of those slider deals- ON or OFF that's it. right now- my cuticles are OFF and i'll be gettin it ON in the bathtub here in a minute.

any other whores available?

dear snake fest diary,

why does it seem like every time the snake comes out- i get horny? this time i made myself horny thinking about watching someone fuck the unibomber. good grief. something really is wrong with me- a chemical imbalance maybe? i even went so far as to tip toe to the bedroom to get my other memory card for my phone- to maybe post a picture on craig's list and try and 'woo' him a girlfriend. i know, right, AFTER EVERYTHING I HAVE SAID ABOUT POSTING PICTURES OF PENISES ONLINE- LOOK AT ME GO- but here's the thing tho- the unibomber has a mighty fine penis to view ladies- and gentleman- it is a beautiful sight to behold- and nothing to be ashamed of. he would kill me if he knew i was even contemplating posting the only picture of a picture i have of the mother fucker- but it's so fucking pretty- i almost want to share it. he needs some pussy. from what i saw this morning- it's bound to cause pain. i just want to watch- from my bathtub. ima have to fuck him iffin nobody else will- but i'd love to watch him tear some other lucky pussy to shreds.

packed & ready

dear i hate to sound harsh diary,

butt fucking puhlease. you're a real tough cookie with a long history- breaking little hearts like the one in me. but before you put another notch in your lipstick case, i always forget the words after that. they get dumb anyway and should have been changed to something else. why are people so insensitive. is it all about them? i am beginning to think that it is. fuck 'em. i can not believe it is finally eight o'clock. i thought it would never get here. ima enjoy a pop. i need to finish my work for 914 by friday- i've got the tail end to tie up. it turned out better than i expected. i'm kinda stalling to milk it- i dunno when i'll have work again for them. they are back to full staff and since i didn't move to the city- i dont get what everyone else does. i'm random, but not forgotten. after my appearance in chicago- i'll be a free agent again. unless i am kidnapped- which i am always available for.

READ THIS BEFORE DRIVELING ON

dear how to phrase this diary,

this post right here shall and is to be considered a warning because what i have on my mind now is a sensitive subject to some- including myself- however my next rambling driveling masterpiece will prolly include one or more of the following topics (and i will post time the posting sos you will see this first accordingly) and here are those topics- not in any specific order:

suicide
afterthoughts of suicide
general thoughts of suicide
people committing suicide
and fucking idiots that actually do commit suicide
suicide

if any of the above topics or even death in general seem to upset or bother you- it may be best to avoid my blog for the next few minutes- because there will soon be a fresh- hot off the press post- about the above topic. today. right now.

breast milk

dear do you really want to kill yourself diary,

i would offer to do it for you- but it ain't legal and shit. i am all but on probation- so i have to stay out of trouble. seems like suicide is about your best option. don't tell anyone else you're thinking about this- i am for real. they'll just think you are trying to bring attention to yourself. i don't keep score or anything, but people who like call and whine about it are the ones that don't do it- just sayin. generally true thoughts of suicide are long term and seem to stick around- as a kid- i romanced the idea of ending it all- until i realized- it all didn't end with me. and mcdonalds would still serve big macs after i was dead- and the bus would still come at 11:07 and gilligan's island would still come on tv. so after i thought about that for awhile- it didn't sound so romantic anymore- death was coming to everyone sooner or later- why be a whore? if you wanta die- go ahead and try- it doesn't change our day. only an idiot would think that it would- a smart one would stay here and play.

the big untouchable

dear it's been a long day already,

i don't think i am very good at getting up when i ain't got about shit to do. i really need something to focus on or i'm screwed. i might soak in the tub later- that would be nice. you guys should see the grump on the mattress out here on the floor. he looks like a miniature adult pig. he is snoring so loud- i cant even see how he sleeps through it- sometimes i can not. all of our drinking glasses have disappeared. and guess what? i found them last night when i drug out the mattress from on top of william's bed frame. they are ALL on harry's desk. omg. so before prince harry left whila go i told him to get those in the dishwasher- he rolled his eyes and left. i'll be up for parent of the year again. anyway ima post this picture of the grump- which i couldn't even get him one whole shot- but when you're done admiring him- i want you to check out my kids sheets- LMAO- he'll be eighteen in TWO months- so those sheets are about sixteen years old now. maybe i will get parent of the year after all.

the humping train

dear understanding how i tick diary,

under normal circumstances i am a down to earth, cool, collected, calm, rational, witty, clever, honest and an easy person to figure out, but there are things that have been happening lately that have been surprising even me- and i'm used to about everything i can dish out. i whisper to becky and tell her i love her at least 80 times per day- the only way she responds to me is to flip her ears and grunt sometimes as if to say, 'i love you too bitch leave me alone now you fucking drive me nuts.' sometimes it seems like everybody thinks i have lost my mind. even the dogs roll their eyes up at me i swear they do- i get no kind of respect here anymore. the grump thinks he can hump on me- and becky humps on him. i get my head bit off when i hump the grump- but becky can ride his head all day. things are not fair around here- in fact they are really fucked up. i will keep on being the victim of this until i do something about it. something has to change. i cant whisper to the grump- he growls at me- so to him i don't say anything personal.

masterCOCK

dear rush rush diary,

a jig or a jug- she will pull out the rug- and then she will roll away. i will laugh as the father delivers his mass and you, dear sir, are the ass of the day. forever you will be remembered as the one who surrendered to someone who controlled your mind. i took no part in rescuing your heart- i bolted and left you behind. take that as a lesson- your many transgressions and tuck them deep inside your closets- board up the doors and secure them tightly and be sure to check their security nightly. for you never know when those skeletons may rise to haunt you in your present- look down at the rug and give yourself a big hug- a jig or a jug- it may be time for you to roll away.

address service NOT requested

dear it's clear diary,

i have decided that people just don't live like this. i must be weird. i must be strange. i must be fucking whacked out of my God given mind. what the fuck is wrong with me? i cant speak chinese. i have no skill. oh sure- i can knit- and needlepoint- macrame- and make pot holders- i can make people from clay- and i can suck a dick. that's it. i thought about learning how to do more and then i became a whore. until now it's worked out okay- and now i woke up feeling brave. is it to late to join the navy? or will they too think i am crazy. maybe if they ship me out to sea- they'll see how much of a use i could be. deploy my ass- i could at least keep everyone happy- i could keep everyone laughing when their spirits were crappy. plus that would get me out of the way- so the big hero could be openly gay. i'd pack my bags and leave today.

about a case a day

dear people who are always thirsty diary,

lately- i have been noticing that someone around my house consumes cans of throwback pepsi in great quantity. i want to establish that i have switched over to coca-cola. i will explain why later. here is what i saw on the table next to the lazy-boy next to the couch just yesterday. i saw three identical glasses- in a row. the first glass, closest to the window, had two inches of clear water- with a little brown at the bottom- obviously the end of a glass of ice filled pop. the next glass was half full of mostly a dark liquid (pop) with still a few floating tiny ice cubes left. the glass was still wet with sweat- but it wouldn't be long before it was dry. the next glass was picture perfect. the carbonation popping from the rim like the forth of july. somehow seeing the stages of life as a pop glass right before my eyes- was adding to the senseless of drinking so many sodas ALL IN A ROW- for absolutely no reason- it ain't even hot outside YO? so that is why i switched over to coke- so i could keep my pop in the fridge- so next saturday when i want one- i don't have to snap cuz there AIN'T NONE. plus- pepsi tastes like medication now when it goes down my throat- i can even swallow it- that shit is nasty.

my baby- grewed up

dear things change and i don't even change them diary,

now i have forgotten what it was i was fixin to write about. something changed. what was it. fuck if i know. oh yeah. i got the mail today and a letter. it said my kid (prince william) was getting ready to turn eighteen and my child support would stop. finally. i can quit payin their rent. what a fucking relief that will be. i tried to stop the child support when he went to stay with his dad- but that is much more difficult than just writing the letter and making calls. we figured by the time we'd get it all done- well- he'd be emancipating anyway- so we'd do it our way- and i'd just pay his rent. it all does come out in the wash i suppose- but the clothes are never clean at the same time. i am always broke when the child support comes- and it always breaks me to pay his rent- and my mortgage too. i love my ex-husband and i am so glad we are friends and his girlfriend is so badass. i wouldn't change a thing between them or us right now- and i'm glad william is becoming a man.

everything is better...... with a blue bonnet on it

dear napping as a plan diary,

i think a nap is in tall order, now that i've been up for a good solid hour. the first hour is always the hardest. now i can go get some real rest and try again in a couple hours. then i'll be rip roaring ready to go. it is pretty much the same deal everyday- give or take a few minutes here and there. i had a five year interruption- but i'm finally back on track. it's nice to have my full and complete life back again- i ain't gunna lie- my terms. oh i am so ready for the planting season. i love to get my knees dirty and wear my bonnet.... mmmmm. k night y'all. xoxoxooxo

smile for the dead camera

dear taking pictures of dead people diary,

i think it is down right morbid to take pictures of the dead. but some people do it. and my parents were some of those people. on the same hand- had they not of taken a picture of my grandpa's mother- who died a month before i was born- ida never had the chance to see her face. the story goes- she would never allow her photo to be takes EVER until she was dead and she told everybody when she died they could take as many pictures as they wanted of her- and so they did. so in our family photo album- there she is- dead. we had a bunch of her things when i was growing up too- and i'd be like, "whose is this mommy? the dead lady's?" and my mom would say, "honey, that is your great grandmother's." yeah, dead people pretty much need their own photo album. it seems wrong in some way to have her next to the living grandmas. i dunno why my parents took pictures at funerals. i thought it was wrong myself. it was my mom mostly. but when she died- that's all i wanted was a picture of her. but nobody would let me take one. i am glad today.

she JUST left

dear thinking how bad THAT would suck diary,

we often sit around and gather- sometimes at my place- sometimes not- lately we've been not hanging out here- for obvious reasons- but one of the topics that always seems to arise- and one of my favorites by far- cuntface. i seem to go through various stages of feelings towards her- and this has just recently been pointed out. i always start out poking fun at her- it is easy to do- and since most everyone around me has seen her- well- they do it too. see- i was fucking her husband for five years before she found out- so for all that time before she knew- we'd all scoped her out. while this bitch lived high on the hog- prancing all around the town- he was having me and my friends stop by for a couple of rounds. so when we sit around and talk about those times- once in a blue moon i start to feel bad for her. reading my posts now for all this time- it would have to be so shocking. to be inside the head of the whore who was in my bed- would drive me fucking bananas. and to know i'm not the only whore that had to contend with that tiny penis- now everyone knows how little he is- that is fucking hilarious. i still cant believe you guys have all that income and sleep without a mattress pad on your bed. that is some low-class shit right there y'all- even i got one of them.

the daily double

dear up up with peepholes diary,

thinking ahead requires some level of intelligence. i am stupid today then, because i cant think of anything i need to do on this day, so i'll take stupid for $800 alex. ima make the butter molasses pork chops- but i'd just as soon fry the bitches up and make gravy as to learn anything new. there i go again- being stubborn. the recipe looked delicious- but when push comes to shove- what do you wanna bet i can fry 'em and make you beg for another one faster than any molasses butter cooked bitch can. but i wont know til i try. tough choices- i hate them. decisions again. ughhh. i ain't good at deciding anything. one of these days i will be.

he looks like shit now

dear i didn't tell anyone until now diary,

i saw the hero last night. i did. it was a little after 5. surprisingly enough, i wasn't even stawking- this time around. i think that's prolly why i went all the way until now without sayin a word- and still ain't said a word and i aint gunna say a word cuz it hurt like a turd coming out of my ass sideways- dry- and extremely large and unforgiving. a vacation turd. you know the kind. the kind you remember- for a WHILE. do i hate him? nope. guess not. did he see me? nope. thank God. he was playing landlord it looked like. i got behind some traffic in the east lane- in case. in case he felt my tearing eyes glaring. it'll be a long time till i can forgive our justice system for letting him get away with the game of charades he played and won with my life- it'll be a long time till i can forgive him for never leaving his wife- but the one thing i will always believe that was true- was that love that we shared was far different than any i have ever knew- and he was a man better than few- or i thought he was until i found out- it was all lies- which made me what i am today... the whore.

hard headed whore

dear did you miss me diary,

i missed the fuck out of you. bad. i thought a whole lot about what i would write here when i got done doing what i was doing- which was a whole lot of nothing after i got done painting. i didn't come up with too much, but what i did come up with is the following. i have missed out on many things by being stubborn and not allowing myself the opportunity to try new things. like this, for instance, i always paint my nails red. pretty much across the board. bright red, dark red, red red, pink red, orange red, every kind of red you can think of- i love red. but why not purple? i don't like pink. that is unless it's hot pink- almost red, (yeehaw) but what i am saying is, if i'd open the door to more possibilities- maybe i'd learn to like more. i know i could never like fish tho (including but not limited to shrimp and salmon) or artichokes- or almonds.

ms. learn-a-lot

dear herman diary,

happy birthday herman munster. you are one nasty hoe. i saw you the other day when i was cyber pre-stawking on facebook and time has been so cruel to you. well- time and alcohol- one of the two- or both- plus the coke- and the cock. strange dick will do that to you too- so i've heard- and now i've seen- with my own two eyes. you are one super scary bitch. i don't why my ole man fucked you- or my brother for that matter- but thank goodness  they both woke the fuck up. i couldn't see either one of them with you really- that would be some really bad luck. how many hundreds of men have fucked you? at least five hundred i'd bet by now- oh fuck prolly closer to a thousand- you've been fuckin about 35 years- oh wow. hell- you even had the city employee too- the hero- the big fireman- in fact- that is where i saw your picture at- on old crayon's CUNTFACE'S facebook friend page. lol.

slumber party

dear red nails and overnite company diary,

pulling out prince william's mattress is always fun to do- the dogs love it too- i got the fancy comforter i had packed out and omg it smells like a dream. i wonder what kind of laundry soap that was i used on it. i wish i knew. shit smells bad ass. my nails turned out perfect. a deep deep red they are. nothing to do later today- nothing but sleep and take it easy on the sleazy. ima make molasses butter pork chops for lunch i think, or try to. i found something i lost yesterday and lost it again already. it makes no sense to me, but am i surprised? not really. i would lose my head if it wasn't attached. i prolly would. i might be able to find it. but it would take a while.

CLOSED

abandonment issues

dear making decisions sucks donkey dick diary,

i hafta defuckingcide whether or not to paint my nails. then i hafta defuckingcide what color to use. and all that. then i hafta defuckingcide whether or not driveling is more important or less important than drooling over my nails allfuckingday tomorrow- or if i can just meddle on through with the same red i've had on since sunday. the thrill of brazil. everything is on my terms. but i'll miss you guys. i will. or i mean i would- if i painted. i need to. i think i am tho. i know you'll be here when i get done. you always have been before. right?

happy here

dear historic development diary,

throughout history, humans have proven to be selfish, short sided, and hostile. i am not perfect. but i have tried to unite everyone in the rhetoric of stupidity. change is never easy you guys and there is always a cost. leadership requires discipline- sacrifice- the ability to make people believe in the impossible. i can only make people believe shit- i lack every other skill it takes to be a leader so NO- don't follow me- just listen to what i say- then i'll follow YOU. no one said anything about easy. we can sit here all day- but it will always be the same. i believe in the stupid peaceful mission. letting someone else take the credit is the way to go. every time. that way if things don't work out so good- eh... you still got the back up plan.

hey porter- lemme in!

dear rolling in the grass diary,

if you were walking the tightrope and found yourself knocking on Heaven's door- who do you think would answer? a man? a woman? a child? a knight? an angel with wings? God himself? i wonder if there are little gnats in Heaven- that fly around above your head? i kinda wonder if our spirits float around in flowers as our beds. i would make my home a field of daises- because those are what i like the best. it pains me to realize i have yet to conquer my quest. i know i have the rest of my life to chase the rest of my dreams- before i retire to Heaven with the rest of my family waiting on me- but i am always curious to know- who will greet me when i get to the door. who will let in a whore?

what mary taught me

dear hiding in plain sight diary,

wearing goggles is one way to avoid being recognized, if that is what you are trying to do. i usually just put on my makeup and get dressed up- people have no clue who i am. i look like a totally different person. i kindof like that about myself too, because that way i can tell who is real and who ain't. by gawd- if you can look at me when i am ugly- you deserve to look at me when i ain't. that's how i have learned so much about our world, by the way, more than i ever wanted to know. see, i usta not leave the house ugly. then i met this girl mary. mary changed everything for me. in lots of ways- i wish ida never met mary- but in more ways- mary liberated me- forever. what i took from mary was the idea that, IF A DUDE DON'T LOVE YOU WHEN YOU ARE FUGLY- THEN HE SHOULDN'T GET TO LOVE YOU WHEN YOU ARE PRETTY. then i just started living like that- because- why dress up to pay the cable bill? i figure- as long as i'm clean- in clean pajamas- i'm good. plus, it makes it really special when i do get dressed. AND it's less wear and tear on my two hundred dollar jeans. i haven't seen mary in many years. she prolly moved back to hawaii where they don't even wear clothes. and now that i got this new hair doo- it looks like i got up and got ready when i ain't even got up yet.

billboard top 40 ass

dear fantasize a way diary,

i have mermaid hair. when i dunk my head in the bathwater- all of the tangles fall out. it flows around next to me with such elegance and grace- each piece shines and has such a radiance- it sparkles as it falls around my face.  i love how soft it feels now that it's dry and my fingers glide right through- yes- i think it was worth every penny i paid- and ima happy customer. my hair will look really good now- underneath the bright stage lights- i think it even makes my teeth look ten shades more bright. i have it all now- the hair- the nails- the ugg boots- the attitude- the teeth- what an ass kickin whore i am. i wish i had the ass to match the boots.

beyond the partition

dear one left diary,

it might be the worst day of your life meeting me, or it might be the best day of your life- i guess that would depend on how you feel about it. it ain't prolly gunna change mine much- me meeting you- on the count of everything i've been through here lately- they made sure of that shit. but then it's alright with me iffin my life were to remain the same from here on- i'd eat, drink grape/cherry juice and be merry. just all in a days work i suppose. eating seeds is a pastime activity. i may not be the one you were looking for- but i will be one you find. you may not want to overlook me- i am one of a kind.

prehistoric whoretimes

dear somebody told me once diary,


more than a few years ago this man i met at a diner along west bound interstate 70 near salina, kansas- wrote on a piece of paper this name and address and told me i needed to send in a video tape to this dude and explain the importance of our meeting each other. i, of course, never did, but looking back- i wonder what could have happened if i would have. i still have the back of the paper place mat he wrote on- it says:


Lorne Michaels
Broadway Video
1619 Broadway
New York City 10019


i didn't know who that was back then- but i sure do now. man was i ever dumb. who knows how many gift horses i looked in the mouth and thumbed my nose at. prolly a bunch. i hate myself for not taking the time to stop and look more as i was passing life by. i was in such a hurry. such a hurry to get to where? here? oh if i could only strangle myself and go back and re-do at least part of it. let me feed the chickens again. let me gather the eggs with my aunt- i WONT be afraid. let me pick the green beans with my grandma- i WONT complain. let me smell the air in the country before, during and after a morning rain. let me go to the farmer's market and walk with grandpa and his cane. let me hear the church bells and stand outside and gather and laugh- and let me sit and hear the services on mr. peterson's lap. some of the things i would do again- just to remember them more. some of the things i would remember- before i became a whore.

the starting line

dear housekeeper diary,

maria is here- she just woke me up- but i was ready to wake up anyway. becky has been trying to get me up since 7:30 and i've been blowing her off AND IT WORKED- she must be growing up finally. i remember when i was able to start blowing off the grump after years of being chained to his beck and call- oh what a relief that was. becky tho- she will whine and start her vocal-ness crap and the grump he just stomps around and pouts. whatever it worked- i got an extra three hours and nobody complained. now ima take me a bath- enjoy my clean tub and get on with my busy ass day.

here it comes

dear fast clickers diary,

sometimes it t-totally b-blows me a-away at how fast y'all are clickin and reading  my shit here. now it is almost scary. i can't get it out fast enough and y'all are clicking on it- viewin it. i can't understand what you could possibly be doing with them- but that's on you and something you'll have to deal with inside your own conscious mind. i have my own reasons for pumping what i pump- driveling what i drivel- at the pace at which i do it. but you- reading these like you do? wow. i dunno. i am thrilled. and curious. how could i not be. everyone said i wouldn't be shit til i hit 5- hit that- now what? am i goin for 10 by may? mother may i? sorry about my little fit i threw earlier. i am. i wont do it again for at least a week or ten days. it's just you'd think the shit would end soon- but it just never seems to.

147 my HearT

dear my damned day of birth diary,

everybody has one. i happen to have two. you'll understand (hopefully) momentarily. i came out on the 136th or 137th day of the year (depending on if it was a leap year or not and i am not sure if it was that year but it isn't this year i know that much) so that is what my papers say that came with me- they say- TRIXIE WEST 7LBS7OZ 21'' LONG BORN AT 3:33AM ON THE 136TH (OR 137TH) DAY OF THE YEAR. and that's just how i was known to everyone. but not to my mom and dad. yep, i was still trixie west, but i had two birthday's. they didn't get me til i was eleven days old- picked me out from a buncha kids in cribs- i'd always imagined- altho i knew better. we always celebrated my birthday twice- the day i was born and the day i was received into our family. day 147 (or 148) was always as special as my birthday. my mom always said a warm prayer to God and gave a special thanks to my birth mother for giving her the daughter she'd always dreamed of. there will be 229 days left after my birthday is over- of this year anyway. and then we start 2012. if time is running out- who will be left to count the days?

abba

dear if you change your mind diary,

i'd be the last in line- i'd give you the third degree- you wouldn't have a chance with me. i wouldn't even suck your dick- that ain't no lie- i wouldn't even go there once- you need'nt even try. but it would be fun. if i were really dumb. and the only reason i would- it to show cuntface i could. but then i would die- because i would kill myself- i would get a gun and get the job done- there would be no living then after that- i wouldn't be able to ever go back. to pass a mirror- i would feel so queer- to face my peers- for my remaining years- oh fuck no- i couldn't do that- find me a gun and a big plastic bag- i wont make a mess- i'll do it fast- out in a field somewhere of tall grass. everyone would know why i did what i did- sucking the hero's dick again pushed me over the ledge.

ShameleSS

dear i hate my tv diary,

my tv angers me. there ain't ever anything on it. okay there is, but then as soon as you start loving a show with all of your heart- wanting to go and drive by the house where they film it (ima stawker) the season ends and- that's it. now you gotta sit there and wait like a dumbass. i hate waiting. i happen to know the next seasons are already written- so why are they not filmed? i would have liked to see them take the show which i am talking about in a different direction- but they didn't ask me- and like always- nobody ever does. but it isn't always the big story that makes the show so damn good anyway- it's all those tiny details that make that fucker so fuckin perfect. i just want to hump the creator of that bitch.

good luck (to everyone else)

dear ima about ready to tell a big secret diary,

i've never been more impressed with the way things seem to square up on their own without the help of outside influence. if you think about it- what i said is true- if you lose a dollar today- you may find two tomorrow. i think it helps to mentally see yourself doing whatever it is you want to happen too- but we've all heard that before. i practice doing it tho. i really do. sometimes it plays out JUST like i imagined- and most of the time- it's so much better. my mom taught me to think ahead- but i don't think she meant to the extent of which i do. sometimes i will obsess- but not often. that usually happens before shows or auditions. i'm not going to let it happen with my upcoming interview. ima be relaxed and go with the flow. ima blow their socks off- hopefully i'll at least get a callback- but you never know. every time i don't do this- everybody says, "girl you should have done that this year," and so ima do it. i really am.

click clack- give it a whack

dear ewww i need to wash my hair,

my hair stinks. i don't care but it does. funky town. my hair cutter was out of my special shampoo- so i  have to wait to wash it til tomorrow now. i may end up rinsing it out in just water because it stanks. i dunno if that little procedure worked on me like it did on the other lady i saw. i dunno. i kinda wished it would have turned out better. maybe i had higher expectations. that is the way things usually end up for me tho- but i look at it this way- at least the shit didn't fall out. it is softer, but- i dunno. i just thought it would do more. i'm still happy tho. i haven't even washed it yet- so i could be thrilled and not even know it. i'll prolly do it one more time to make sure i hate it- then i'll know. that wont be until june so- i'll have time to think. ima eat a ham sandwich in a minute or two. i got that new olive oil mayonnaise. it prolly would be as good of time as any to soak in the tub- but i dunno. if i get in the bitch i may not ever want to get out.

i will. i am.

dear i thought about doing something but i didn't diary,

and there you go. i just didn't. i sat here like a fuck and didnt do shit. pretty much like i always do. pretty much like ima do tomorrow. pretty much like ima do the day after that. then it will be my favorite day of the week and i will spring to life. i fucking love thursdays and always have. sumthin about them are special. when you first wake up- you can tell. if i am not mistaken- this thursday is the last day of the month. oh i hope somebody corrects me iffin i am wrong. i am hardly ever wrong. when i am wrong- it is usually for a second and i turn out to be right later. it already seems like the middle of the night LMAO its 948PM. my house is still as 3AM and i can hear the train passing. i ran everyone off. i love it. i may go ahead and do what i thought about doing and didn't- even tho i shouldn't prolly.

let's do the time warp just ONCE

dear thinking again diary,

well, the intro says it all. here i am. thinking again. my mind took a left at albuquerque and it is off to the roses we go. i do hope we run into dan fogelberg along the way- altho- ain't he dead? maybe it would be best if we didnot run into him then. because i do not want to die before september anyways- then i don't care much what happens. i decided if i were to disappear from my life that prolly nobody would even hardly know i was even gone and i have already thought ahead as far as posting- ima start posting random things when i am bored to post way way ahead in the future- so in case i die or end up being missing (kidnapped or otherwise) nobody will notice on here at ALL so i'll have everyone fooled. man i am so damned clever it ain't even funny sometimes i am glad there is only one of me out here and i have all the inside information on what i am up to because not knowing what i was doing all the time would be scary. i'm just sayin.

LOOKIN FOR A MAN

dear that last post done gave me an idea diary,

i need your help y'all. i need a man for my friend TOYA. she is so sexy yum yum. i ain't lyin. ima little upset at her right now, but that ain't nuthin serious. she's got the sexy stripper body and an ass that wont stop. her face is so sweet. her smile is somethin to really look at- and like. it turns me on when she licks that blunt like she does- and i have yet to figure out why. she's real laid back- but she is religious. she has three kids- who are so good. they just won the talent contest at  their church- and they are so beautiful and polite. the girl looks JUST like her mom- a knockout. i always hit on her oldest boy- asking him out on a date. her youngest son just doesn't know what to think of me. she has her own home- that is clean and nice and she pays all her own bills. she is a nurse. she has her own car and all that. she just hates goin to the clubs and never gets to meet anybody and needs a man to treat her like the lady she is. she likes white guys too, but i could see her with a nice strong black man- with a big bald head and some throbbing shoulders and a cut ass jaw- and a chest like God and an ass like Jesus. that is exactly what she needs. and i guess if there is an extra one out there- i might as well go ahead and try one out. i mean- really.

poor girL

dear i have never been a puppet diary,

when i woke up whila go, i was shocked at all the text messages on my phone. i'd missed a bunch. most of the messages were twitter posts- but two were some sad texts. backup background- here you go- girl has a string of bad luck brought on by choices she made on her own. i feel bad- WORSE than i've felt for anyone in a minute. it's all about some stupid shit too- but as they say, 'that's another post.' i looked for some paperwork to help this girl out- looked through ALL my old shit- i don't think i have anything that will work- my phone was dead last night and i missed her call- and tonight i was asleep- and when i woke up- i pretty much had the, "fuck you anyways" texts waitin. oh what an upset. sometimes i feel like... why even try? i ain't gunna lie. i want to ask her, "what is this really about? honey things will be okay. you don't need to freak out."

the offer

dear sweet talker betty cocker diary,

i spent my nap in the closet. of course i was in my dream and i was painting in there- but i was still in the closet. it must mean something. it meant i slept good and now i can stay up all night long. ima go to the store later. after midnight maybe- when i am sure the cuntface is all tucked away. it is in the best interest of everyone that we share the food stores- i go during the middle of the night- cuntface can go whenever else she likes. i don't see why she goes to the store anyway- when i was in her fridge- there wasn't shit there. and there never was. that's prolly why her husband always ate at my house. i honestly believed a way to a man's heart was through his stomach- and through his pants. (duh.)  i guess there must be another way.

a somber exit

dear i am going to bed diary,

yep. it's all over for me. there ain't no sense in trying to relive yesterday- or the day before. i have a plan. i will go to sleep now, then when everyone else is about to expire- i will rise and take over my domestic domain and rule the confines with my solemn presence- causing no one discomfort or further stress with my mere physical attributes. there should not be the need to confide in me for any reason- if there is i have provided a steno pad and pen set for directives i will take note of upon my conscious awakening. fuck you and your momma too- i am done with this shit for A WHILE.

uncle ben

dear food diary,

sometimes mexican food is the only thing that even sounds good. i feel like eating something- but nothing rings my bell cept rice. really. i used to not like rice. it reminded me of tiny hard bugs. now i can eat rice all day long. chinese rice- same way- as long as its fried rice. i don't like white rice- BORING. my mom used to soup it up with warm milk and sugar and cinnamon and shit. still- ICK. i ain't up on grits either. i just heard a commercial on the radio for shrimp and grits. wow. i'll just run right on out and get that too. shrimp and grits. i cant even see that together. but whatever. i do feel like some rice now. it makes a person wonder about the nutritional value in rice- since people seem to eat it all over the world. i cant ever cook it right. there has to be a trick to it. uncle ben knew everything i guess. he knew more than me anyway- about rice. but i bet i knew a few more things about a few other things that uncle ben didn't know.

psycho plant killer

dear i am a lucky girl diary,

but i have killed my plant. you know- i thought it would be ok. i understand now why it isn't, there is a difference in between the two plants in that pot and i can clearly see now what those differences are. one plant has a lettuce leaf and the other plant has a corn leaf and the lettuce leaf plant cant handle the cold like the corn leaf plant. duh. so i pulled up the lettuce leaf plant and threw it in the yard. it's gunna die anymfway. fuck it. ima psycho plant killer. take me to the river. drop me in the water. i wont make that mistake again. i made a bunch of mistakes this year. oh whale. i ain't worried about it. there ain't time for worry. i have to get that job you guys- and you're gunna help me. by listing my blog site as a reference on my application, and your visits- clicks and comments- and general traffic- i was hoping- thinking- praying- that might float me to the top of the glass of candidates in the pool of cream of select whipped topping for the job of which i am so interested in- and inquiring about the second week in april.  

circus dog

dear harry's home diary,

prince harry just walked through the door and becky did a flip, in the air. literally. i saw her make a full circle fruit loop in the sky. i didn't have any idea she liked the kid like that. it makes me wonder what he's done to her. it happened so fast too. now she's laying down quietly. it was so random. he came in, she did the fruit loop thing, and now she's back quiet. just like that. she slept really close to me all night, so he couldn't have done anything to her last night. she refuses to sleep with him- so anything that was done would have been during the day. but i've never seen her act like that. today was his first day back to school- i swear they had a longer break than they did at christmas. i slept my ass off. it was nice not getting woke up all day LONG. now i am ready for another nap and i haven't been up two hours.

always order off the TV private

dear enough about that drivel diary,

i dunno what you're gunna do, but i got an idea. i forgot what it is, but i'll remember it again shortly. i went to the bank. i got money there. i came home. and now i am here. it seems like it is trying to get warmer outside but something is holding it back. it isn't me. i give it the go ahead to get as hot as it wants. just as long as it doesn't get toooo hot. the unibomber had it in his head i owed him three hunderd dollars. how he came up with that figure- is as good of a guess as any- but fuckin if i didn't pay him- it'da been another day like the last fifty eight- so i did. everybody all together- with me now- ASSHOLE. that's fine. fucker couldn't even wait til my check from 914 gets here. i'll have that ready to send this week- i'll get paid sometime next hopefully. i want a new bra. remember how i said the genie bras on tv- and how i almost ordered them? i called the number on the tv- and they have caller ID- and have been stalking me now. this strange number had been steady calling me- and i would NOT answer and finally i did and it was the GENIE BRA people. i shit a lid. i said, "how did you get this number?" 

a road map

dear waking up still wanting to sleep diary,

yep. that's what happened. i woke up, but i didn't wanta wake up. now i am up. and not happy at all. seems like everything i am pissed off about is right at my forehead just waititn to be addressed. nothing pisses me off more that things that pissed me off before, but i cant do much about it now, so i wait til something can be done about it, because even tho i cant do anything, my friend Karma can, and promised me something is and will be done. i wait. and wait. it's cool tho. part of the satisfaction of knowing how good it will be is waiting- playing over and over in my mind the different ways it could work out. anticipation. the tease. i think that is what makes the ultimate whore. doing what the papers say i cant until the papers say i can- is all i want to do. why is that? prolly cuz i just paid all that money to be able to receive direction.

whore dirt

dear light at the end of the tunnel diary,

i don't see how the court can not put a time limit on the order of protection. even when you read the directions on the back of a cake mix, it tells you how long to bake the bitch. in the state of illinois, orders of protections are generally givin out for periods of two years- after the emergency order of two weeks. our emergency order lasted over TEN MONTHS, because the pussy bitch kept postponing trial- and when we finally did go to trial- he lied to obtain it- got it- BUT the judge didn't issue the standard order- he said, "TIL FURTHER NOTICE." our judge considered his twenty year-old step daughter to be a MINOR, (who he was accused of molesting by the cuntface wife which was a lie- i think- or hope) and the whole entire process was a complete sham. ALL BECAUSE I SENT THE PICTURE HE POSTED ONLINE OF HIS OWN DICK TO HIS WIFE ON HER CELLPHONE. that is DOMESTIC VIOLENCE YOU GUYS. women are beaten every fucking day- cut up and throw in dumpsters with their children and MY COURT wasted countless hours of time on THIS SHIT. why? because HE IS THE MARRIED FIREMAN AND I AM THE WHORE. duh.

a sleepy killer

dear one day diary,

once again, i can not demonstrate in words without actions, how important it is to allow me to wake up, before you start name calling, or belittling me in such a way- that i wish to cause complete and total destruction of your brain cavity-(your genital head area) with a club, or a bat, or any other useful object i may find along my way of sensible torture. i do not like waking up with you and if given a choice- i wouldn't. i despise the sound of your voice before 5PM and after 10PM it's just as bad- and amazingly enough those are usually the hours i work- so i pretty much hate it all the time now. i just tolerate it a whole lot better away from the house when i can hang up whenever i want. did you know that sometimes when you speak to me and i am not ready- it scares the shit out of me? i have to brace myself for the sound of your remarks- because i know they will be; totally random and out of the blue, and, forceful in nature- and i'll have to catch my breath before i try and answer any questions- which will piss you off and you'll call me a liar. i am supposed to be quick on my toes- but i cant always be- and that blows.

wanna BET??

dear not so long ago diary,

the sun came up and the sun went down and the world went round and round and every cloud in the sky and every tear in my eye and every time you lied i forgave you. it wasn't so much that it hurt as such as it was that your promise remained the same- the lies they were nothing in comparison to something- that what you said you never gave to me. i still remember that look in your eye you you said over and over, "baby, i  am NOT that kind of guy," another lie, you certainly weren't shy, not with your lies. but i was the one that loved you. but now the court papers say that we are done- they say i am not to bother you. isn't that funny- when i was already done with you honey- and you went to all that trouble? at least i am not the only one you've lied to- i feel better that you've lied to the court system too. telling the judge you moved back home with your wife- is the only reason you won at all. so being the moral wife cheating outstanding hero you are- i would expect no less, you get to drag me through the mud while you wear a pretty 'dress.' AND NOW you have a new girlfriend living in your HOLE? so you have a CUNTFACE WIFE, an order of protection against a whore, and a girlfriend. SO SO MANLY. betcha you're advertising that tiny dick for more too.

bazooka bitch

dear puppy love diary,

i yearn to house a puppy again- if only briefly- as if to care for one while someone is away on vacation or in the hospital or jail. i don't want to have it forever- because adjusting my household for a whole new permanent companion would suck, but i'd be willing to do it for a minute. becky loves the little fucking barking runt next door. she's a tiny dog of some breed and loves to bark with that 'yippy' bark. it wakes me up- pisses me off- and causes me to think of ways to silence it. i don't think i could ever hurt a domesticated animal- but if i were ever to start- it might be with that dog. i think my snake could eat that little dog- on any given day- i know for a fact that would make the barking go away.

mowing for MoneY

dear village people diary,

i wish we had streets made of stones and sidewalks lined with flowers. i wish the limbs of the trees stretched over into the streets and swans swam in every pond. i wish there was no kind of grass but zoysia grass and i wish i could eat my lunch on it every afternoon in the warm sunshine on a blanket my grandmother made in 1950. there are special people in this world. we don't ask to be special- we are just born this way. others test and try to control how we will adhere to the possibility of being special only to one- only to someone- but it never works. we are special to all. to breathe in- to breath out- to hold air in your mouth. not to compromise what is said- but to deny others whose skin is shed- the chance of further protection from something they cannot see- they need no protection from me.

horndog

dear nacho bell grande at home diary,

i have chips but somehow licking the cheese off my fingers is so much better. i like sugar in my salsa too- whereas- nobody else does- but something about sweet and spicy is so damn yummy. i like sour cream too. i like to get jiggy with it.

the line down

dear i must warn you all diary,

i learned something at work tonight. a real eyeball prying open experience- if i do say so myself- and i do- i say it. it was almost another lesson. when a line forms- it should be respected for all it is worth, for things are spread out for a reason- like the order of birth. when you go and disrupt that and let somebody in- you can mess up the order of which it's to be- so make them go to the end of the line. if you let someone in they can snatch it away- the good banana- the pretty donut- the nicest car on the lot- the best bag of pot- the best seat at the show- and if someone wouldn't have been NICE and let SOMEONE ELSE in- that pretty donut woulda been MINE tonite.

the jailer is a DICK

dear inside my silent post diary,

"LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!" he screamed when i walked through the door. i wanted to take a ratchet and clock him upside his crooked little pointed jaw. now i can not look at him without snarling up my nose. i was in a fanFUCKINGtastic mood. now i am screaming back and i think we are having a pleasant conversation- ah- but i just want to kill him. why is my prozac NOT working? i need more- an iv drip. oh man i hate this little bitch i call the unibomber. sometimes i really i do. tonight's rant- because i picked up aimee and gave her a ride to work- i told him i wasn't- kinda thinking i prolly would (i lied) because i didn't feel like hearing his shit. but then i forgot my work tools and had to come BACK home- and i brought aimee with me- I AM BEYOND MAKING MY FRIENDS WAIT AT THE CORNER. he stalked me when i left- i forgot to have aimee lay down in the seat. busted. then my phone went dead. oh fuck. i knew i was dead meat- but i came home anyway. WHAT'S HE GUNNA DO? BLOW ME UP?

bLaze & crazed & glazed

dear false alarm diary,

i felt like someone was watching me and they were and i heard a beep and my phone was dead- but my ears were ringing too- so it wasn't my phone after all, but it could have been- i dunno my phone was dead- so i'll never know for sure now unless they leave a message, but i don't listen to my messages- so i'm really just fucked. i blew my nose and i can hear better. well, finishing up what i started tonite- is just what i had in mind. it is all to exciting with blue ink on my arm. amiee is a twat she gets away with more shit than most, if she inks my arm again into the sky she will coast. just sayin.

with bacon tits

dear oh no bullshit diary,

well, i hope my little freaky stage has passed. wanting to shove things inside of me at my age just doesn't quite feel right. i'd like to think that life is behind me now- but i guess not. somethings i suppose- you just never outgrow. i am glad i resisted the temptation for those tire irons and chair legs. i'd prolly still be walking funny. i need to go to walmart and get some superglue and fix the vacuum handle- we don't need to talk about how that broke- but it'll be an easy fix. i just need to remember to stay away from the stairs with it next time, if there ever will be a next time- i wasn't to happy with the last time. so anyway. i got that all cleaned up. now i gotta do something fun with the bath tub. something new. it needs something poky under the water. i'll have to give that some thought later. i'm starving right now. i want lettuce salad.

the Golden Globes

dear sunshine on my front porch makes me happy diary,

my house may be rather small, but the fucker is clean and has a damn nice basement and the sun finds its way to my porch and that is my favorite part of living here. archie bunker died the day i was making the porch rails. carroll o'connor was one of my all time favorite actors when i was growing up- his brand of humor was so funny to me-you couldn't tell when he was acting- or if was even acting and i wanted to be just like him. he seemed so real- like i knew him. i cried when i heard he had died. i had to take a break from my project. so when the sun shines down on my porch sometimes and i am outside in the light- i close my eyes and imagine myself to be a star- under the hollywood lights. i think of the traffic going by as the audience and their rounds of applause after some significant thing i've said. i shade my eyes as i look out across the faces when i raise my head. "thank you- thank you all for letting me be a whore- i will now step down so i can get to work and do my job some more."

humP the grumP

dear remembering a time diary,

every time i hear prince harry sneeze- he sounds exactly like he did when he was an infant. really, it is the only noise he still makes that reminds me he is still my tiny little care package that came out of me all those years ago. when he storms past me sometimes- it is hard for me to comprehend i gave birth to such a thing- but then i'll hear him sneeze and i wanna run to his crib- but when i do- i usually find the grump with all four legs up in the air snoring his ass off. why does the grump snore? i would love to know that. he really isn't overweight. his neck isn't fat. becky doesn't have a problem snoring- her problems are much different. she sits down hard. becky will get in the bed and decide where she wants to be and DROP. it will take your breath away- because she likes to lay on or next to your chest. ain't that cute. what is really fricking cute is when becky humps the grump. that kills me. she humps his head of all things. AND HE LETS HER. but when i try and hump the grump- he snaps. he wont stand still and let me hump him. i don't think that is right.

retaliation? YUP

dear sleeping weak diary,

the grump snuck up on the bed- took off running after something in his dream and have i'd been with child- ida lost the unborn baby. i was kicked repeatedly in my stomach in the upwards of a hundred times just now- and i wouldn't be surprised if i don't have internal bleeding. but i wont be calling any sort of paramedics or city resource today- beins its FIRST GAWD DANG SHIFT, nope, i shall die, my house shall burn, and if i wreck on the east side of town- i will crawl away from the accident and die under a bush in the ditch. i will keep my dignity. oh that dog KNOWS better than to sleep in my bed at night. i must've assumed he was becky. ima end up killing him. if he doesn't kill me first.

sPuNt




 

the mayans are coming

dear counting sheep diary,

the sheep that followed me to bed wanted to dance on my head. assholes. i'll wait til the party is over and try again. fucking sheep dogs. why do we let these animals live with us? they roam freely in my house like they own the damned place. sometimes (like now) i think they do own this place. i wish one of them suckers would pay the cable bill. wouldn't that be something to blog about. 'dear my dog finally paid the cable bill today diary,' is how that one would begin, and the next, 'dear my dog just got groceries for the week diary,' and then, 'dear my dog wont loan me twenty bucks diary,' oh- seriously- that would be THE LIFE. but oh well- i am sorta stuck with what i have at this point. and becky- i'd gladly support her til the end of time- shit that ain't but about what another 600 days? yeah- i'm worried too y'all. you guys need to start buyin them canned veggies now. and make sure they were produced before the japan earthquake. start grabbin books of matches and extra blankets and water too. don't forget about your sheep dogs and cats. personally i hate cats- but i know there are cat lovers out there who swear by them. my dad has enough bird food for at least thirty years. he wont stop buying it.

twitchy twat

dear as good of time as any diary,

i suppose going to bed now is a clever idea, beens it is night and i am tired. i got NO work done today. none. AT ALL. so that's something. whatever. i had a twitch in my arm muscle earlier- i dunno what that means- hard tellin. you could see it through my shirt- it was creepy weird. i watched it for a few minutes- touching it- trying everything to get it to stop- it finally did- but it was nothing i did. sometimes my eye twitches like that too- and once in a while- my lip. when my lip twitches- oh man- it's really weird. one time my whole eyeball was jumping in my head- now THAT was A trip. i get a shooting pain in my toe too- it doubles me over and makes me scream and stomp- and shoots right on up to my twat. it tickles so bad it hurts. i think it's lucky to get one of those tho- i always play the lottery after a twat/toe pain. yes, it is definitely time to roll in the bed.