i wouldn't call anyway

dear that's how it always is diary,

i make lots of friends. that is ALWAYS the easy part at these things. everyone is my best damn friend up until the time that it matters and then what do you know- they all bail. like check this out. k? how hurt am i here? right? just listen. k. i am ALL tearing up- i swear to GOD. so like i'm bonding with these girls- we talk for about i'd say three hours. no shit. a good two and a half anyway. we are laughing and singing and having a party. really. great time. so then we all go in for the interview we've been waiting for. now, keep in mind, i've interviewed for this job before- so i told these girls EVERYTHING i knew- even tho it could be a disadvantage to me- i still ran my mouth- cuz i know i ain't getting the job- i just went to go. (but i still could get the job cuz i slammed that bitchin ass interview y'all) anyway- here's the hurtful part comin up. AFTER we all got done with our shit- everybody wanted to exchange numbers and emails with everybody else but nobody asked me for mine. sos i just left. i guess since i done took over the interview- i, ummmmm, kinda lost my fan base. oh well. maybe i'll get to apologize and get their numbers at the second interview.

face of an angel

dear wet nose diary,

it is so funny when becky comes up to kiss on me because her nose always is so soppin wet it gets my whole face wet. i don't mind as much when i am in the tub and she does that shit- but when i am warm and dry- it is quite annoying. it is even worse when i have my makeup on. she likes to wear makeup too- i have her own compact i use on her and she loves chapstick- it makes it easy to put on her since she has the huge under bite and that bottom lip sticks a way out- so i put it on her. it makes her feel pretty. her crooked little teeth are so cute. to anybody else she'd prolly be funny lookin. not to me. she is perfect.

AND:

diary dear,

oh how I WISH i knew what i know now $5OOO and A YEAR ago LMAO- do i ever. CAN YOU SAY NON FACTOR? CUZ THAT'S SHORE THE SHIT HEARD TODAY! ty ty

From:

diary,

once before- i wuz number 34. today half as lean a mean number 17, i wuz indeed the rockin queen. have mercy on the smaller-dull people with no OP's.

To:

diary,

 little short road blogs market piggy fingers along curbs and beeping radar detectors. no soliciting attention at rest areas anymore. shameful. TBC...

time to go

dear disneyland was in new york diary,

if i hadn't have seen it with my own two eyes- and took pictures- i'da never believed it either. but in my dream last night, that is where it was and that is where i went. i could handle going to disneyland about now, but there are things i would rather do instead. i would rather have a bologna sandwich on a small square blanket under marilyn monroe's name plaque, but that's just me. i heard the crypt under her was for sale for over a million dollars. i think that is a bunch of money just to have people come visit you when you're dead. it is empty tho- or maybe it is the one above her. i cant remember now. i think it would be cool to live in an apartment overlooking the cemetary- to wake up and look into there every morning. the pierce brothers westwood memorial park is the dumbest cemetary- because it is so tiny- but it is the most coolest place ever. the little girl from poltergeist is there- don knotts- donna reed- countless stars. and CVS and the library- right there as well. you cant go wrong.

don't be lonely

dear one and not the other diary,

i gave becky an empty kleenex box to carry around and it caused a HUGE argument here in the central living area. ok so now i am stupid again. i just noticed my nails are long again. they always seem to pop out at the last minute. i pushed on the cuticles tho for two days. so that prolly mighta helped. i bet. but then you'll have to explain how the ends got long then. ima go to bed early tonight i have to get up early you know, but i might get up later on yet- but for now i gotta go. xoxoxox

personal hygiene.... tweezers included

dear i am really not nervous diary,

i would have expected myself to be way worse than what i am. but honestly, i am cool as a cucumber, if i could have anything i wanted, and i could btw, i would take a long cheezy hot bath and soak- and get all my make-up together and then i would prolly go to bed. i already have all my clothes out and ready- and my change of clothes out and ready- i'm all set. blowtime. the countdown has begun already. i am glad i took that nap. ima trim my mustache and pluck my eyebrows ina a little bit.  

sit. roll over. lay down. si troll overlay own

dear baby shit on the floor diary,
dear that title slapped me like a whore diary,
dear i had to change that diary,


well, all that packing crap that the unibomber unpacked was on the living room floor, (like always) and becky, (my shredder) had herself a little haYday. it was all well and good till she got down to the explosive pouch of stuff they put in there to keep your items fresh or whatever- that packet of shit that says 'keep away from children' the silicone packet- and she didn't want to let this item go. i don't know what she thought it was- salt maybe, but she really thought she had something good. i have never seen her really want to keep anything like she wanted to keep that packet of little balls so bad. i tore it away from her- finally and it made her look so sad. i got the floor cleaned up and put the trash where it goes- TWENTY THREE YEARS LATER- i will never get this man trained- something i will never get used to i suppose.

revised by trixiethewhore at 8:47 AM 4/9/11 for reasons unknown

violin strings

dear wiring guide diary,

you guys, its coming down to the nitty gritty. i get my hairs done in the mourning time. you know, last time i did this, it felt different. ok, ill just tell you now. this is my third time up to bat. the first time- i got two swings tho, last time- in iowa, i got one swing, and tomorrow- instead of swinging- ima let them just hit me. i'll give them the bat- and just stand there and look preciously stupid. i think that their advertisement on the television was a direct plea for me to get in there- so with that said- i purposely made my application stand out- so that even a fricking person who hated me couldn't NOT read it. ready- set- hear me go- vroom vroom.

just a big pussy with no arms or legs

dear makes me scratch my ass diary,

people are so weird sometimes. like i don't understand what makes people the way they are. we all have things we like and things we don't like, but why on earth would you be so scared of a snake? my snake has already bitten me- it hurt- and i ain't scared of it STILL. are you scared of a cat? because that is all my snake is- a cat with no arms or legs. if you look really close- you can tell where my snake used to have arms and legs- all snakes used to- then through time- they fell off and just quit coming out with them on there- but you can kinda see where they once were. who knows- you and i mighta been a snake once. i dunno why people want to throw a fit every time i get her out. she ain't no killer. i admit to trying not to like my snake when i first got her, but now- she is a part of the foundation of my family. i feel like somehow i rescued her from the mouth of a crackhead. she has a great life now- and everyone here fears her but me. prolly cuz i made her so big and strong and fat and long- EXACTLY like i like 'em.

spooning- an afternoon excersize

dear there ought to be a law diary,

thank goodness there ain't. i would be in the poky. but so would he. for being either paranoid or flat ate the fuck up with stupid- or both. it did work tho- bitch has been out there the last 45 minutes looking for a dent in that bike. i fucking knew he was reading my shit. ima hafto hide from now on when i blog. just like everything else- i cant have nothing. but you know what? fuckit. is it gunna hurt him to know how i really feel? LMAO. what's he gunna do? leave? i got a cactus splinter poker needle in the back of my knuckle hurting me like a savage beast. i know that is what it is because i cant see it- but it is there. i feel it. omg i am so nervous- i ate spaghetti. can you believe that? without thinking about it- i wooofed it down- with a spoon. i like spoons. whoever invented the fork- i dunno- i think they were greedy. i like to be spoon fed. spoon food is better. think about it. the food that goes in a spoon has more flavor and is more satisfying and is usually hotter. man- that cactus fucked me up. really all food can fit in a spoon if you want it to- but food that belongs in a spoon is the absolute best. plus, they are pretty to look at- and make nice gifts.

celebration time

dear anticipation of a nap diary,

don't let anyone ever tell you that napping ain't as good as sex. because even just knowing in a few minutes i will be asleep is sending shivers up and down my spine. i cant wait to be held be my pillow- comforted by my blanket, loved by becky. i love feeling whole. it is the only place it happens besides here. then, when i wake up- i feel entirely put together- until i slowly start to unravel. then ima big frizz ball. then back to bed- to re-mesh. then up again to make sense of it all. i am about to expire. done here. night.

drop me in the water

dear pie is totally my favorite shit diary,

i love pie. it must mean i am getting old. i used to not like pie. i thought pie was stupid. icky. boy- was i ever dumb. i could kick myself in the twat for all the pie i turned my ass up to. is that even possible? to kick myself in the twat? i have never tried. omg the pies that are flying through my head now- they WONT STOP. my grandma could make some pies y'all. out of anything too. i have her pie pan and the oven they were all baked in- boom- that's as far as it goes. i couldn't make a fucking pie crust if my life depended on it. fuck. i love fruit pies more than a cream pie, oh but i like a cream pie too. put something about fruit in a pie makes me wet down there. oh shit. i wonder if i'll be able to make a pie crust when i get really old. i'm just glad they have them kind you can unroll, because if they didn't, i would be a sad pie-less whore. i unroll those well. i make peach pies and blueberry pies. you gotta be some kind of wealthy bitch to buy blueberries at the damn stores around here. fuckers are high dollar. omfg and apple pies. hail yes. this whore loves a hot apple pie with a dollop of ice cream mmmm. take me to the river.

this is only a test

dear catch me if you can diary,

here is the deal. ok actually two deals. i believe whoreheartedly that the unibomber is reading my diary. i clearly cant stop him, however, i thought i was safer than not, because he really cant read. that well. see spot run. i would put him into what i'd call the 'picture reader' category. put another way, thank goodness the TOM-TOM talks. he's not dumb tho- not real dumb. so anyway, back to my confession, cuz that is what i was getting ready to do here. yup. here it comes. if you can read, and you are reading this... then good buddy... this message is for you. i dropped the car jack on the gas tank of your harley. yup. i put that dent in the side of the tank. it wasn't a possum or raccoon like your gunna think. that's what you get for- i dunno what for- reading my diary i guess. it was an accident until i did it again, but i couldn't help myself, the dent just wasn't big enough the first three times. you said you wanted it painted. QUIT READING MY DIARY UNIBOMBER go out and check up on your bike now. heee heee.

my ultimate secret

dear i forgot i painted my nails diary,

one thing about being retarded is- when you wake up in the morning and the retarded-ness hasn't set in yet- and you look down and see your fingernails from the night before when you were retarded- (like i am now for instance) and it makes you realize, "wow, what a savant i really am when i am retarded." i don't want the secret to get out. then standards for all retards will be higher. i have been extremely lucky this far, being able to hide behind this mask, but i dunno how much longer i can do it. i will wear gloves today so people can not see my fingernails.

goat whoreman cookies

dear i was clearly headed to the top diary,

something happened. i needed a cookie and had to come back down. that is what it was. it pissed me off too. normally i don't eat cookies, not on the way to the top anyway. now my knee hurts cuz i hit it on the step climbin off the bitch. i am tired too. can you tell? i thought i had a brain tumor earlier. i had a ring in my ears and my neck was sore in a funny place. i almost went for an mri- but i couldn't find my phone to call an ambulance. i'm lyin. i ate a flinstone vitamin (cuz i love the orange ones) but my ears were ringin. oooh the grump went into the bathroom with the shower on..... that's odd. so the jade tree had an accident today- but you know what i always say about accidents huh? 'ACCIDENTS AREN'T ACCIDENTS IF THEY CAN BE PREVENTED,' and this one sure coulda. the grump KNOCKED IT CLEAN OVER. so now boys and girls, ima have not two jade trees, but hopefully FOUR now- cuz two cuttings fell off. i dipped them in the rooting whoremoan and hopefully i'll have a whole damn tree farm. i still wont give one to the goat EVER. as long as i live EVER.  he can kiss my ass. that funky little fucker. ugh. the dark side.  

defective black right bra cup..... great fucking carrots

dear munching on carrots and thinking about my boob diary,

yup, it happens. not a whole lot, but it does. i think this is my first time actually. i realize i want to tell you that when i find bras that i like- i usually buy three or four of them bitches cuz i don't have good relationships with bras. so when you've learned all that- you must be ready to know my current and most troubling situation i do find myself in this date. every time i wear my black bra- that is exactly like my white, nude and pink bras of the same size style and brand, my right boob wants to fall out. bring thee boys back home. i don't get it. prolly never will. but these carrots sure are good as hell. yummy.

and dip... duh

dear i listed that diary,

help me understand what is going on- this need for carrots. ima need a bowl full of carrots in a few minutes - with some ranch dip. i believe it is due to this sudden advertisement of that new movie HOP. i like carrots anyway, but baby carrots rock my rabbit foot. popcorn and carrots sounds good right now. the snake is hungry too. i'd gladly pop her a carrot. i kinda cant decide what color my nails should be. but im thinkin red will do. as long as they are perfect- it really wont matter- but it is all i have on my mind- besides carrots. ima go get some of those right away and eat them for my snack. because i keep driving myself crazy with thoughts of tearing open that sack. 

Fiber Rich Chocoloate Soup

dear healthy habit diary,

whenever i sit on top of the world, it hurts my neck to look down. somehow i burnt my chin on a cigarette. boy do i feel dumb now. let's see, what else could possibly happen before saturday? maybe a wart will suddenly appear on the tip of my nose. or maybe a big black hair will grow out of my chin and i wont see it. what would be even worse, i'll break six out of ten of my perfect nails- or suddenly go blind- or one of my eyes will stay shut- what is that called? bells palsy? my grandpa had that once- it lasted for six months. i'll wake up with some sort of physical deformity between now and then- i just know it. it just blows my mind it has finally come down to this... again. i am doing this because,  BECAUSE I HAVE TO. because all the pieces fell together- because all my life- has been in preparation for one thing- this. because it has taken all that- to get here and because- i am there. i put one foot in front of the other- several times over- and the path keeps leading me to the same place.

on it (again)

dear don't tell me you love me diary,

someone hid my favorite toothpaste. i didn't even notice til i spit the nasty shit out of my mouth. it made me so mad i almost never want to brush my teeth again. who knew i had to check the fucking toothpaste before using it. i will from now on. i've made the mental note. my paperwork i got ready to give away saturday, i love it so much- i hate to give it away. it is that good. ima redo page three- BECAUSE IMA FUCKING IDIOT AND CANT FOLLOW DIRECTIONS and i can hear  my 3rd grade teacher saying, "an employer may toss your application in the garbage simply because you didn't follow a direction," and i didn't. it said to 'circle one,' and i fucked around and circled TWO- omg. i need to fix it. that says i am worthless, incompetent, slow, dumb, retarded, and shoulda been payin more attention. dangit. piss me off. that's fine. ima do it now. while ima thinking about it.

ima lick you up and down

dear lady green diary,

have i ever told you guys about lady green? some of you may already know her, but most of you wont. my last post, RETARD MAGNET made me think of her. once upon a time there was a retard named lady green and she was legally married to a man named green machine. they lived in a house with a dirt kitchen floor and a big CB radio and they would broadcast on this CB radio day and night, playing music and saying the same catch phrases over and over like, "whatcha thank," and "ima lick you up and down- what you thank," and the whole town had no choice but to learn to like it. sometimes people would go cut their coax, but on the first of every month, green machine would go out to the truck stop and replace it. nobody knows what happened to them after the house was condemned. i think the railroad bought it. poor lady green... whatha thank.

retard magnet

dear funny bone diary,

i know that technically there is only posta be one"funny" bone in the skeletal body, but i have way more. i have one by every part of me that bends. i am different than all y'all. i think that is why i am a retard magnet. weird people are drawn to me and like not just homeless people either, people who have a hard time communicating with 'normal' people, can bond with me instantly. why do you think that is? ever since i was a tiny kid it has been like that. my mother would scold me often. i had absolutely nothing to do with it- and i think finally she did realize that. people just talk to me. they flock to me- like birds- little retarded birds. i had to talk back- it's rude not to. it's changing now, the age of people who talk to me. when i was smaller, people that are my age now would speak to me. i remember too- looking up at them thinking how old they looked- like my mom- older even- how dumb they all were. twenty years ago the people that flocked to me- were all my age- and all their kids. man- there were kids everywhere. i was sure a hit with the kids. kids couldn't get enough of my animated unpredictable ass. now a days, i got the alzheimer infested babyboomers on me like stank on shit and the old folks. i like the old folks the best tho- they seem to be the ones who know what's goin on- believe it or not. they are the ones we need to listen to actually. i cant believe i just fucking admitted that. 

my city has PORN STAR employees

dear favorite day of the week again diary,

upon us again, thursday is here- a day i've waited all week to finally arrive, no joke. now it is here- omfg- it is and my hair is almost as greasy as i thought it would be. i am up early- for the first and last time- i skipped waking up in sections today. i figured i would get up all at once- go pay the cell phone, and clean out the car before it rains. my garbage used to come on monday's AND thursday's, (and wake me up) but my city changed all that recently. they decided once a week pickup for trash was plenty- and only let them come on tuesdays to get the shit now. why can the city decide for a business- how much they get to do their job? the city doesn't tell the tree cutters how often they can cut their logs. the cable provides a service to me the city does not oversee- yet when the garbage people piss me off- the city wont help me. i always knew this city was 'trashy' and all they care about is SHIT, that's why the city employee i cared about so much is ranked so high with MORAL merit.

the good manwhore

dear feeling stupid again diary,

well, maybe i should go snort a line of prozac, i hate it when i get emotional. omfg i got that pain in my toe and it is shooting up to my twat fuck fuck fuck that will cure a bitch from whining EVERY DAMN TIME. seriously. it's gone now. man i hate that shit. it almost made me cry- but i was half teared up anyway. i am not unstable- my toe hurts sometimes- it gets that silly pain in it. i dunno what to think about the other matters of my heart. those matters are just as stupid and in my opinion- foul. long since they'da been over, and then i got dished and served- and it haunts me yet and to this coming weekend for something i truly did NOT deserve. i can do nothing but include it- there is no use to hide- i am NOT ashamed of my actions- it is only a mark against my pride. and to know he rides his moral stance to this very day- married still to CUNTFACE and living his adulterous ways, and to punish me for what i did- exposing what he is- and telling the court i harassed him- WHAT A BUNCH OF SHIT. i am so disappointed in myself especially- for having feelings for someone who could've treated  ME the ways that he did- i am so thankful that we never had a kid. when i heard the ducks fly back north today- a sign winter is really over- i thought about layin in bed when they'd fly south with my head on his shoulder. he would tell me how by next spring we'd have a house of our own. time passes so quickly- it does- my kids are now grown. 

happy?

dear wishing i could go home diary,

since i wish i could go home, does that mean i want to leave here? because i am at home right now and i have nowhere else to go. and i don't want to get in the car- not yet anyway. i know what will happen if i leave- my body will be somewhere else. i can be happy anywhere. i've proven that to myself a hundred times. even when i spent the night in jail last year, i had so much fun with all the girls in my trod. we all laughed and made jokes- mostly about why i was in there- but about the guards and other things too. my boiled egg bounced knee high when it rolled off my tray onto the floor. the one lady rinsed it off and ATE that mother fucker. i had to shit real bad and one of the ladies offered to hold her blanket up for me so i could go. that was so nice of her to offer, but i didn't trust her and still couldn't go. yeah, i get along with all kinds of people- i don't mind doing some crazy shit either, but what i wish more than anything- when i get home- i wonder if you'll be there waiting for me.

forclosure of two dreams

dear do you want me to put it back in there diary,

i took a bath yesterday. did a little tree trimmin- if you know what i mean- a little bush whackin. now i have to wear a belt again. yeah. that's somethin to think about. i think i have changed so much over the last couple three years. i look back and remember how weak i was- and it wasn't that long ago. i really was pathetic. i can see how easily i was taken advantage of. i was all toooo eager and not much of a challenge- on top of being borderline desperate and lacking self worth- i was ripe for the picking. i fell into the arms of a waiting predator- is what i did. 2008. i woke up. actually, it was december 12, 2007, lol, bob barker's birthday. i can almost remember the time, it was around 4:30PM here. i knew my world had to change. i knew it was gunna change. i knew i had a little time. i had til feburary. it was one of those things i never thought would happen- but it did. i let fate make the final decision for me- and she did. one dream put an end to another dream. but when you chase a rainbow- sometimes you find skittles.

fast times done went on by

dear whiz with the time diary,

i am all fucking done with my paperwork now and it is all decorated up and polished and my shit is all tight as can be and i really ought to think about doing this professionally for other people who have a burning chance in hell because the good Lord knows i sure don't and why i continue to put myself through the agony of rejection is beyond me- but it is so fun to build myself up and sometimes it works- it has before and you just never know-- it may have already been decided and i just don't know so i gotta go find out for sure or not because if it has and i deny fate- well then i just screwed up my future and my friend Karma hates it when i have a plan and let her hand go after i've held it so long and sweat through the hard shit to keep the candle lit. whew. deep breath in... and release. sometimes i don't even want to breathe because exhaling my breath takes away some of the power and strength of the force that pushes me toward every idea that makes me who i am and if i don't keep trying to get there- then who am i anyway? people don't understand how important it is to me to get used to the ideas that drive me- they think i am chasing something i shouldn't be looking for. fuck them. ima keep looking anyway, because being rejected is much better than being never found at all.

donkey see donkey do

dear all gung ho diary,

i wish my hair was all bouncy curly. after all that trouble i went to to getting it straight again. maybe if i could understand better how my little fickle mind works. i have to believe it will go away- the bouncy thing. i suppose i could roll it in my rags, i haven't done that in a while. i like to wake up and untie them and see the twisty curls that dried overnight. the bird across the street is yelling at me again. i'm going out to the mall to get a shirt in a minute- ima shoot for another free people. hopefully they have one i like- but usually they only have ones i like when i'm not in need. i've got a few others i could choose from- but none i'm struck by. i want any shirt i wear to match my paperwork and my personal brand. i want it to be sweet and tight and sloppy and hot. k ima run downstairs and dig for shorts to wear with my boots.  

eating the crust

dear having a plan is easier when you wake up at least diary,

the first step to having a plan is to get one. the first step to getting a plan is to make one. the first step to making a plan is to find somewhere to get to. but you have to at least get up first. i don't see how people can make and have two or three plans- when making the one perfect plan is so hard for me. once i have a plan in my head- it is so difficult to think of anything else. Galileo was put in jail for his idea that the earth was round, so planning to broadcast your plans can often bite you in your nuts- or vagina- or taint. my stellar plans have slapped me hard before. i can not lie to you or anyone else. jail me. for it was after i let go of the hand of my plan that it did reach back and pop me a good one. i learned. i had to. so i know why it is now that i obsess so hard on my plans after i have crafted them and i allow myself to intensely focus on those ideas for two reasons- the reasons i explained above. if you need me to repeat them i will. they were- to avoid being slapped- and to avoid being bitten in the nuts, vagina, or taint. and if you don't know what that means, then watch your dream play out after you've run your mouth about it- FOR SO LONG, and you not get to have any part of it- and see how your nuts, vagina, or taint feels. amen

makind's huge fuss

dear people who told everyone else BUT me diary,

it is okay that you did not tell me, i am able to figure these things out on my own. sure, it takes me a little longer than some, but i get the job done- matter of factly say some. my dreams may be stupid, but they always leave me with clues. i need to remember to always donate my old shoes. last time i did, i took four huge boxes- i don't miss any of the pairs i took away except one. i may be a stranger person than most or than some, but i wont ever treat anyone like a crumb. in the few extra minutes it takes to figure things through, i am also looking straight into you. finding and collecting things that make you tick- making sure you aren't a dick. because if you up and start treating me like i am dumb, then i will know just where to stick MY thumb. i will wait till the time is so right- i will not ever cause you to bite, but when you decide to make your first move- up your ass my thumb will go- WITHOUT ANY LUBE.

catching that one bus

dear traveling once more diary,

my bags aren't ready, but i'd prolly go. i think i will step out for a minute or two. you wont know. you never pay attention. time keeps on tickin, but the camera film stops clickin frames. i become invisible. i slip by you like a thief holding the cash envelope. i sign myself out- using an alter name- sign back in using your name, then you're signed in twice- but when you leave- you're still here- so you dunno later if you left or not. but i know. and you know and we are the only two that do know. ima go now. see you later xooxox

making believe that you still owe me

dear twice this week diary,

so twice this week already- i have had clothes dryer dreams. i had one residential dryer and one great big commercial dryer dream. i have no clue as to what the trigger was for either dream. the new trend for carpet was sand too. SAND. no thanks- i'll pass. last night i went to some industrial workplace and interrupted the whole day by hanging out with all the guys who worked there. i just walked in the shop and jumped up on some of the excess material that was sitting there and they all stopped working to come over and talk with me. nobody got anything done- and nobody got in trouble. i was the center of attention and i loved every minute of it. then i went to eat and everyone was SMOKING in the restaurant. i kept taking pictures of the burning cigarettes with my cellphone. then an older woman asked me what my name was- i said, "SAMANTHA," and she pointed to my glasses (i don't even wear glasses) and she said, "yes i think those glasses are for a MAN, yeah." so i looked at the lady and i got really annoyed- my blood pressure went up and i yelled at her and everything, "MY NAME IS SAMANTHA," i screamed (which it isn't), "AND I AIN'T NO MAN," and the lady started crying and i felt bad all of a sudden. but i still smoked my cigarette and ate my food and sent pictures of other people smoking INSIDE the place of business- to all of my friends. and that lady kept looking at me the whole time. when i woke up- there was mud in my bed again. the new trend. 

steppin ona THUMBTACK

dear pull it out slowly diary,

whatever you do, make that pain last as long as you can. it will be a long time before i feel anything like that again. i want to relish the severity of it. i need to remember how it really feels to be rendered helpless for a second. because once you pull it out for me- i'll soon forget what it actually feels like to be an IDIOT (like your DUMB ASS) the one who fucking LEFT THE THUMBTACKS ALL OVER THE FLOOR IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE- deciding how INAPPROPRIATE picking them all up REALLY WAS AT THE MOMENT YOU SPILLED THEM ALL, even tho we have EIGHT TENDER PAWS, AND SIX HUMAN FEET (including your own pigeon toed ass.) but hey. ima lucky gal. i had a fair chance. i could have looked before i ran my heel down upon its waiting point. you're damned lucky i have had a tetanus shot. thanks for pulling it out tho- it was the least you could do. you can go back to bed now. i'll stay up and possibly bleed out. 

Be Rite Back

dear going back to the sleeping pen diary,

mattress time. see y'all later. i'm doin it again. i have to. i hear the people calling me again. plus, i have to clock a certain amount of eyelid hours or i am fucked. it's in my contract. i'll get canned. i have to find my mental health evaluation and free people sweater when i get up. those are my goals. i'll be needing your support. so you guys be thinking about helping me with that while the jury comes back today on the Y&R with sharon's not guilty verdict. k. hope each of you has a non-eventful- stress-free hump day. xoxooxox i'll be up again shortly. try to get along without me. i know it's going to be hard...... they have medication for that. seek medical attention for an erection lasting more than four hours....

slobbering shitfest

dear flush flush diary,

well, i bet you the toilet has flushed no less than SIXTY times this morning already, and that is on the lowside. the unibomber and prince harry are having a shitfest. it happens whenever the two of them eat cake. it don't fuck with me like that- but then i didn't eat it until the wee hours either. the dogs eat a ton of food. i am just realizing how much they go through. becky eats hers in the morning. she just woofed down a giant bowl. now she will munch on people food for the rest of the day. she doesn't beg for shit- neither one of my dogs do- that's why i feed them. i've had dogs that beg. marty joanne, "mighty gymshoe," we called him, he would drool and slobber and carry on- i never fed him shit. he was so rude. he stole food. you had to put your plate up- he'd take food right off that bitch. don't get a drink either- seriously. take your plate with you. both becky and the grump will eat off a fork AND NOT TOUCH THE FORK- it's damn near amazing. becky can drink out of a glass- you know she has that underbite. the glass rests on her bottom lip. there flushes the toilet again. good thing we don't pay per flush.

hurry up and go to wait

dear bewhore it's too early diary,

understandably, it is every one's desire to hurry up and do shit, 'before it's too late.' that's the standard mentality- and whats generally perceived as what works the best. let 'em have it- let them ALL clammer at the feet of disaster- that's how I feel about that shit. every time the ice maker in my freezer gets ready to dump- is sounds like there is someone punching the side. sometimes it's best to wait- and let all the idiots do their thing and then fly through and get what you need. every once in a while, it's fun to slide in early and get there before everybody else- to assure your hand in the mix. but in the end- is it really gonna make a difference either way? to be first- to be last- to be anything at all? it has already been decided long ago. stupid. didn't you know that?

i cant stop fucking with you

dear looking around diary,

don't look now- but all my polish is off. i had to do it. then i did a buff job. oh man. fresh and ready for a paint job now. guess what color ima prolly end up paintin 'em. yup. red. duh. ima take charlie sheen off my twitter. he annoys me. like fuck. he's outta there. i blame him for running my phone dead. ima get a new phone here in a couple of weeks or so. i coulda been had one, but i waited. i dunno why, i just did. i've had the same phone now for- well- since 2007. i feel like i like my phone. so a new phone even now, doesn't really interest me all that much. i have some bad ass fingernails- you know it? i sure am a lucky bitch. some bitches cant even grow nails. i can. i love mine. i cant stop yawning, but i want cake. of course i ain't eating cake this late, but i want to. i ate smoked sausage whila go with pancake syrup. to DIE for. so i think what i will go ahead and do now is paint and drop. i'll try not to go red. i will. tomorrow ima make a meatloaf and start getting ready for my appointment saturday. goodnight trash talkers. i love all y'alls. xoxoxooxo

pool of piss

dear made my day diary,

now my pants are wet.

a nice work area

dear feeling spunkier than usual diary,

all of my court papers are copied. my paperwork in order. i cant fucking find my mental health evaluation- the clean copies i had made extra- and the original for court that i will need obviously- for my last and final court date on the 29th. i do have the dirty copy that has been in the back seat of my car that i show everybody- but blunts have been rolled on it and everything else- so it's a hot mess- i sure ain't turning that one into the court. oh hail. the DEA would be at my door prolly and i wouldn't really know what to say to them- cept, "it wasn't mine?" you gotta have something to roll on- and i guess that's all they could find that night was my mental health evaluation. it was sure something tho- hearing it read out loud by lighter light while they smoked. that was before i finally replaced the dome light after two years of it being burnt out. i sure enjoy having a light in the car. it makes it easier to drive around at night.

people who suck

dear PISS ME OFF diary,

watching an empty bus 50 turn in front of the string of traffic was scary- i could see everyone smashing into it- even tho nobody did- it sure seemed like they were going to. if idda been in the front of the traffic line- i betcha i woulda- it was close. what made that bus driver turn like that- i wont ever know- and i don't think anyone will- but i'd like to have some of what he was smokin. i thought about calling and turning him in- but what's the use? plus... then i'd be a snitch. let him wreck and learn a lesson- maybe he'll hit a tree on the way to get the kids tomorrow. that's what i'm hoping anyways. THEN THERE WAS THE LADY AT THE DRIVERS LICENSE BUREAU. oh my fucking GOD. the one i have hated FOR YEARS. she is still there- and living large. with gas nearing four dollars a gallon- finding myself on the north side of town- i thought it would be wise to stop in and get my sticker for the truck- since i was near the place. i forgot the registration- but this hasn't been an issue in the past- they look it up by my name- and print off a new one- easy enough. NOT TODAY. today we need my driver's license, or insurance card, something i do not have with me- so she can verify the information. my word is not good enough to purchase the $100 STICKER. leaving, i felt like driving the truck through the window of the building, because now there was a line that had formed, and by the time i could go outside and read the plate number and return to read it to HER- ida had to have waited about a half an hour AGAIN. i left. what a bitch. what can you do? give a genuine SHOUT OUT to CUNTFACE. that is about all i can think of.

rags to bitches

dear i like that diary,

i never get tired of smelling the laundry washing. especially a bleach load. that ain't what's washing now tho. today i am washing my feather blanket and packing that bitch away. SAVE MY LIFE I'M GOING DOWN FOR THE LAST TIME. i been gunna do it now for a LONG time huh? well, the day is finally here. i am so tired of feathers in my hair. now i need to wash my old torn up fish blanket and i'll be all set. when becky was little- she took the liberty of pulling all the stuffing from the holes and made all the tiny holes HUGE. so now every time i fucking roll over while using my favorite fish blanket- it rips more. but ima try and use it ONE more year. i replaced it for my winter blanket a couple of years ago, but i swore to always return to it for summer. i dunno how long ima be able to keep going back- it's in bad shape. it needs to have some big final exit. i need to burn it and scatter it's ashes at zebra crossing.

erect neck

dear making a choice diary,

it is the time of year i suppose- when sleeping on the heater would get uncomfortable. why hasn't technology made it to the snake bed heaters yet? someone told me once to just leave it on, so she can, 'make a choice,' as to whether or not she wants to sleep on it or not. i run my central air conditioner in the summer- always- because i am NOT going to be hot- so- i figure she'll need it during the summer anyways. when she sleeps out from under her big rock tho, she thinks she is hungry more often. like right now for instance- she is fixed on the sky- waiting for a fat rat to fall- and she doesn't even eat them in her tank. but they still fall from the sky. if she was resting under her rock- she wouldn't be so concerned with the sky- cuz she couldn't even see the sky coiled from under there- peekin out like she does. i may have to break down and fetch a rat today. but just one. i ain't gettin two.

up TO something...

dear oh yeah diary,

i've been thinking. i think that either:

A: the unibomber knows something i don't know
or
B: the unibomber is straight GUILTY of something
or
C: both.

because he has been doing some weird (and i mean SUPER WEIRD) shit lately- and i have been TAKING ADVANTAGE AT EVERY TURN. look, now, here, please. i do not want to make him sound like anymore of a butthole than he is, but he is a BUTTFUCKINGHOLE. with that said, he's an okay guy, he's just an asshole. it's best to avoid him. which means, no talking to him, no looking at him, no being in the same car, room, or general area (if possible). you do your thing and he does his. only on certain 'special' and unavoidable occasions do you have contact, like when the car wont start, holidays, in passing, nighttime, etc. lately tho, something is different. something has changed. he's been almost pleasant. what could be causing this radical unforseen change? i've been blogging now since january 18th and rarely speak a word inside my own home. there is no need. if i should have to run my mouth about anything- i come here- to my sanctuary. he's on his blackberry all the time recently. i do have blackberry readers. do you think he likes knowing how he drives me crazy? or do you think he's got him a little yum yum blog of his own? wouldn't that be impossibly funny.

i don't lie to male plants

dear roots serve two purposes diary,

the roots of a tree do two things. they gather and send food up the food route to feed the tree and they also secure the leafy giant to the earth- or whatever medium its growing in. my tree, my favorite tree that i have in my house- my three and a half foot tall jade tree- was blown over a bit by the wind the other day. NOBODY PANIC- it will be fine.... the wind cocked him over just a bit- i brought him in last night and straightened him back up. but i noticed his roots are very small in comparison to his large thick shaft. i will never be the one to tell him how small his roots are- but i will always remind him how big and pretty he is to me. 

wake up magpie

dear talking on the phone diary,

i am glad we had our talk. i feel so much better. asking all those questions and getting truthful answers- beyond my wildest expectations- but then- how was i to know what was the truth or not- really- it all sounded the same to me. but i felt better. relieved somehow- but i never asked you to undo what you'd done to me- and that was the sole purpose for my even speaking to you at all. i realized while we spoke- it was the only thing that kept us 'together' and once that tie was also broken- there would be nothing else. i decided to keep it- 'til further notice,' and let someone else decide when it would finally end. it made me feel important IN MY DREAM, but it makes me feel stupid in REAL LIFE.

moving the meat

dear watermelon i just ate on a plate diary,

i think the chinese people invented the watermelon. i think they must have. when i burp it, i think of butter chicken. i feel like a whale. i haven't gained an ounce- yet i feel like a fucking puffer fish. oh well. i really don't give a flying fiesta. the snake is all over the place tonite. making allkinds of thumping noises. i wont be able to sleep with all that shit going on. she does this a couple of weeks after she sheds- so it is time i suppose. she shit two huge golf ball size white turds- she is hungry again. that bitch will wait. if you'da told me i would spend seventy bucks a month on dogfood and seventeen bucks on rats- ida prolly kicked you in the leg- but that's what it comes to. and no coupons EVER come in the mail for rats either. rats are dumb. they'll get to really swingin if you hold them by their tail long enough. i try not to- but sometimes- you have to. the snake bit me once- i tried to move the rat closer to it- which i realize now was quite stupid. so once i put the rat in there now- i let it just do everything on its own. i no longer try and help. it hurt when i got bit, but i did not cry. it did hurt tho. but like i said, i didn't cry. i almost thought about crying, but it like didn't hurt that bad. i was more freaked out than anything. i almost chopped its head off- my mom would have- but it was my fault- for trying to move the rat. she prolly thought i was gunna take her rat back. like the grump does when i take his bones away. so at the end of the day- i deserved to be bitten- and that's why i didn't cry. ima big girl.

wake and cake

dear all the above diary,

honestly, following my own blog was not my intention. in fact, i don't know how i did it or how to undo it, because i have taken the appropriate steps to unfollow my own page- yet- it still insists on following me. ima turn myself for stalking- because i don't really need to be a follower of myself- i don't see a reason for it. who knows what i will do when i find out i am following myself and wont quit- even tho i've been asked nicely to stop. what does a person have to do? it ain't like i sent myself a 'MERRY CHRISTMAS TEXT MESSAGE,' well, not yet anyways. i just woke up. what a delightful and invigorating nap. now i cant watch the good wife. (SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE) i meant to do that earlier (honestly) but i forgot. ima eat a few more wings and enjoy the party.

grow up already... you're almost dead aintcha?

dear how weird is this diary,

i've found myself thinking about that dumb bird all day today. i've even squawked like it a couple of times. i do that tho- i don't know why either- but i always have. if you come in to my house and speak chinese- i will be mimicking you before you leave. it is scary immature stupid and something i can not seem to control. same way with a mexican- hang out all day with mi amigos- i start talking in nacho bell grande- or gawd forbid a speech impediment- i'll get those too, or if you say a certain word all the time- i'll pick up on it. everytime. i hate that about me- but i cant do a thing about it- no matter how hard i try. and i do try. so hard. and it makes it worse. cuz i do it more. even with sounds. it's terrible. you should hear me with a lisp. annoying. it was worse when i was a kid- but it is still bad now. i'm like a boy- a teenage boy- who wont quit sometimes. it drives me crazy- cuz it's so dumb. how old are we? 12? i'm just sayin.

dumb stupid people

dear holding me up diary,

catastrophic differences, that is what we have here. i have no reason to stand by any other beliefs but my own and that is what i fully intend on doing now- and from now on. i mean- i cant honestly be thought to defend, or drum up a defense otherwise and even iffin i did- it would be all but worthless or meaningless- and pretty much a waste of your time AND mine. so no, i'm not into wasting time today- or tomorrow- but i do have a block i could offer up next week- if you need it- but not for that- for anything but that. i sold tadpoles door to door as a child- promising they'd turn in to magic frogs one day. only mrs. swanson bought one. she paid me a quarter. i gave her two, for being my very first (and only) customer. soon after (and somehow) my mother found out what i was up to and came and got me in the ford granada. she took me home and made kraft deluxe macaroni and cheese, which i ate on my raggedy ann and andy plate with raised edges, and she swatted my ass and sent me upstairs to bed for a well deserved (and needed) nap. i saw mrs. swanson down at the pond with my mom, LAUGHING, turning all my tadpoles loose into the water through my window while i was supposed to be sleeping. even the ones mrs. swanson had just bought. and they were JUST getting ready to turn into magic frogs.

lobster fest

dear cooking chicken wings diary,

teriyaki chicken wings and pizza and birthday cake- a perfect dinner meal. fuck a vegetable- altho some broccoli salad would fit in perfectly wouldn't it? i think it would. i could make some really fast. i might. or i might not. at least i could swallow the shit. ima take a bath i think- pretty soon. it'll be a good thing. i think. honestly- i don't care if it is or not- it needs to be done. ima wash my hair and all. i might even shave my legs again- if the mood strikes me upside my head. i just love sucking on a chicken wing. them little juicy slivers of meat are so yummy. especially with some hot cheesy pizza. i am starving now. ima eat.

nap number one

dear feeling bulky diary,

walking around in that damned store last night- i saw nothing that really impressed me. nothing i wanted other than what i was there to get actually- which in itself was a damned miracle. something seemed different. i felt quite ugly. i was glad tho. things go much smoother when i am ugly. this morning i feel bulky- like a bag of yard waste. my hair looks like sticks and my face feels like sand and snot trails. everytime i itch my nose- a line of fresh goo forms- i bet i have little rainbows of snot all over. it'll all soak off in the tub maybe. eventually. i regret not getting chicken and stars, but oh well. i'll make potato soup later. ima go rest and get ready to get up again later for real. my eyeballs just warned me. xoxo

paranoia supertar freakazoid

dear not sick at all diary,

that is what i like about me- the best out of everything- how unlike the unibomber i really am when push comes to shove. when he gets a little minor cold, he lays up in the bed for the upwards of two weeks- or more. i get a little sore throat- i complain a couple of hours- get a box of popsicles- i'm cured. i cant believe how much i spent at the store last night but the unibomber felt it necessary to get canned goods for doomsday. i  made him check all the expiration dates for after 12/21/12. now the trick will be finding a place in the shelter for all of it. he's a fucking retard, but at least we have canned peaches in heavy syrup now. i should have NEVER added all those channels to the cable package and it is becoming painfully obvious as to why. he thought he wasn't a Christian the other day- thankfully i got him turned back around. then he went through a phase where he wanted to only buy gold and silver. then he went through this other deal where he thought he was a smart dude from the early 1700's reincarnated. then, i admit, i wanted to try and get on taxi cab confessions. then- the asteroid theory- we are all gunna die sooner than later. sometimes the shit he watches scares me- especially the cartoons- they really do scare me.

whether or not the weather is hot

dear this funky ass dog diary,

came right up to me and turned around and let a squeaky little fart right in my face. it seems like it is raining outside now. it is. a reaction in the whole atmosphere from the fart of my dog- i'll bet you anything. was it even supposed to rain? omfg. i just got home from the store and i didn't see anything that remotely looked like rain. oh good. it just quit. oh great. it just started again. oh wow. who knew this was coming? i sure didn't see THIS on the news- but i wasn't watching it. now the window is wet. i don't get it. what the fuck. i am hungry. ima eat some pudding and watch that show on brains.

no toast or eggs

dear i feel like dancing diary,

i want to just dance on top of my fridge- its so clean up there now. i hate to have to even put anything up there at all- but you know- i will. i am. because i am desperate for space in my tiny clamshell house. but omfg- how clean do you need the wall and shit to be under the damn icebox? the whole kitchen smells better- but it never stunk anyway. honestly tho- i wish the clean police would come and inspect my house and commend me for such an outstanding job. but not until i do the stove. it's been ten years on the stove too. fuck if i just didn't realize that. just right this second. my stove is a cock bitch to move out too- cuz it like sits on a cabinet instead of like its own unit or whatever. i have a bewitched stove. one day i'll post a picture of it- but today will NOT be that day. shit is piled all over it and now i am cooking bacon to eat with syrup. i love bacon and pancake syrup and milk. mmm. ima eat that now. bye.

one night stand

dear air in my face diary,

i don't like riding on the motorcycle. i did when i was younger. it might be his bike- or it might be him- i dunno-when he first got the new bike- i rode it with him- then i got a kidney stone- and swore the bike gave it to me. i mean- i know it didn't cause the kidney stone- okay- i ain't dumb- but i do think it caused it to jimmy loose in there. then you know what made me pass it? two consecutive rides on the batman ride in st. louis. fucking- i went through hell that weekend you guys. then as quick as it came- it was all over. i have NEVER seen anything like it. so if any of you guys ever get a kidney stone and you know it's fittin to pass- go to six flags in st. louis- (get a dr's note if it's during the busy season) and ride that bitch TWO times in a row and go piss on the pot. that bitch will come right on out. i put just maybe a tiny extra pressure behind it and i became a super hero right outside the city. i ain't rode that hard ass ridin bike since. it's a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll.

tell me a story

dear putting the kitchen back together diary,

you know i am glad to have that done-- the miserable chore of cleaning the fridge and the floor under it and perimeter around it- and ima try really fricking hard not to wait another ten years to do that again- but if i do- mmmm so what. right? so- couple of minor setbacks- i sucked up a washrag in the vacuum. i know, impressive right? wait til you hear how JUNGLE BALLS got it out. later post..... you make lovin' fun... is the song i am singing right NOW. anyway. ima go pile everything back on top of the fridge now- so i can have my kitchen counters back- then find something to do with all the retarded magnets that i refuse to look at for the next ten years- and prolly go to the store- when it's safe. oh and- they finally shut that bird up.

ima hafto shit the windows

dear and that is something else that bugs me diary,

why do kids have to walk by my house singing? wtf? i didn't sing when i walked around as a kid, i transported my ass from one place to another in a quiet fashion. i did not bounce my hair around and giggle and make a bunch of goo goo noises. i hurried up and got to where i was going. true enough, i never thought about any retarded whores taking a nap- or preparing to take a nap at 7PM at night, or any other time for that matter, but i wasn't fucking having a personal parade either. not only that, i think it is dangerous for a young lady to draw such attention to herself, because if i were a predator- sitting in my OWN house minding my own business- i would now be aware that a juicy little singing cupcake just walked past my door- made all my dogs bark- and now my perverted thoughts could be ignited and there you go. plus- my dogs did bark- and fuckin that is just dumb. next time i may follow her home so i can tramp back in forth in front of her house in hopes of being molested. ima just hafta deal with this later. after i have a talk with that SQUAWKING BIRD. FUCK.

muffle that bird- or I will

dear spring sweeping diary,

today is yet another milestone in the day of the life of a whore. this whore anyway. while outside restyling my hoya plant- cutting off the dead and moving it around on its trellis, i made a new friend. and like most new friends i make, this one too- WILL NOT SHUT UP, (even now) and keeps calling for me as i write. i find myself ignoring it without difficulty, but at times wanting to blurt out, "PRETTY BIRD PRETTY BIRD," just to get it to change from squawking. we bantered back and for the the whole half hour i did the plant- i have to have the last word- i think i did- but i got distracted- so i ain't sure. it is out there squawking and doing everything it can to get me to do it back- but i ain't gunna- ima be strong and hope it will shut up so i can take a fuckin nap. i've never heard that bird around here before- and the last thing we need is another loud ass bird. i'll tell you that right now. son of a bitch. we got that damned woodpecker already livin on that power pole- that smart fucker ain't got a clue what he's doin. i think he's trying to live all commercial- get a tree lil pecker dude- go old school.

snap your fingers

dear of all things cured diary,

yeah, believe it or not, i am cured. i ain't sick at all. i drank my grape/cherry juice and everything. i am not sniffin or nuthin. totally cured. i really didn't do anything but complain a little and drink water and spit. my mom was so smart. she was. she prolly would be smarter too, she would have been on the internet like who done it. i'll bet you she would have prolly invented it before al gore even. she was smarter than hillary clinton. i promise you that- oh and hillary swank. so i dunno. there aren't very many people who could match wits with my mom. prolly colonel sanders could tho. my mom couldn't fry chicken worth a shit. instead of herbs and spices to season her chicken- she used the burnt crispings and taste of brown vegetable oil- after it had burnt to flavor her tender bird. it definitely had that one in a kind flavor- and the gravy to match- wow- etched forever in my mind. as an adult who loves gravy- i still have yet to figure out the secret to preparing gravy with no juices- or grease of any kind- a secret my mother took with her to the other world.

we will drop you off

dear the bomb that went off in detroit diary,

from what my sources tell me, the show last night pretty much sucked in the motor city. uh oh. i have yet to check the twitter buzz- but i'm pretty sure it's on target- what they tell me- cuz ole charlie ain't tweeted once in about- almost what? eighteen hours- and that in itself says everything, 8:33PM last night- til now- gotta be a record. someone has their TAIL between their LEGS. good. maybe his pop will lose its' fizz. i wonder what the people who bought tickets really expected to get from attending a show like that? i mean really. a non scripted- impromptu- personal psychotic rambling rant from a man who considers himself a warlock? ida paid bigger bucks to see chuck lorre and listen to him just talk about the weather. chuck is hot.

I WANT YOU TO KNOW

dear somebody diary,

I AM SICK OF MY SOCKS. ALL OF MY SOCKS SUCK AND I AM GETTING READY TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS. I CAN NO LONGER LIVE WITH SAGGING SUCKY SUCKING SOCKS. I AM, IN FACT, TODAY, IN FACT, GOING TO SUBJECT MY SOCKS TO A SEARCH AND SUBMIT SAID SOCKS INTO A SACK, WHICH I WILL SET ASIDE FOR FURTHER ASSISTANCE FROM SOMEONE OTHER THAN MYSELF. THE SELECTED SOCKS SHOULD BE OF SERVICE FOR SOMETHING OTHER THAN ME. JUST SAYIN.

thanks for the hailp

dear it's like this diary,

how exciting. for the first time in gosh- TEN YEARS- yes, ten whole years- i getta see the back of my refrigerator! lucky fucking me! the unibomber took it upon himself to pull that mother fucker out. how EVER will we be able to thank him? i can think of several ways. i would rather NOT type them down because of that LITTLE tiny word our legal system likes to toss around called... PREMEDITATION...  (SHOUT OUT STATE OF ILLINOIS) but i been thinking about that shit for a LONG fucking twenty some odd ass years now. wait strike that. really tho. why would you do that- have me start a big project- when you know i'm laid up and could die at any minute? oh, cuz i been asking you to do it? thanks for gettin around to it- THREE MONTHS LATER. i got news for the birthday boy. i ain't bustin my flat, dumb, stupid, lazy, pathetic, worthless, no good, whorin, black dick needin, money wastin, weird food likin, perfume wearin, hair straightnin, dick suckin ass. not today. nope. ima take me a little ride and a long nap when i get home and he can suck my fat black dick.

finger food

dear who wants to go with me diary,

we're gunna stop at the chinese food place and eat. i don't like shrimp, but the shrimp they do up today looks so fucking good- i would eat it if i ate it. it has a yummy looking sauce on it and the shrimp are puffy lookin- not all small and shriveled up tiny shrimp dicks- and the glaze damn near looks creamy like marshmallow- or milky- i dunno- william eats the fuck out of it and makes noise the whole time. they only have the shit on sunday- at least that is the only damn time i've ever seen the shit. i get the same thing everyday of the week. i get butter chicken and rice and watermelon. oh shit. to die for. once i got an order to go and forgot silverware- and ate it with my fingers all the way home. i didn't even care. still don't. the rice i ate the same way. i do admit, that sucked, but just a little. it brought out the infant in me. i had rice all OVER the car- you could prolly still find some in there. omg and there was rice in my hair and bra. retarded. fuckit tho- i was hungry. i meet my needs when i need them met. i keep a knife in the car now. so that wont happen again. oh, and a fork- my bad.

can you feel.... my throat tonite?

dear sleeping sucks diary,

i was looking forward to drinking my favorite cherry/grape juice, however upon sudden impact to the back of my throat- it felt as if i were drinking shards of glass. OH WHAT AN UPSET. fuck fuck fuck. i cant smoke a cigarette either. fuck fuck fuck. you know what? i will BET you it's from going to bed the other night with wet hair. so it's pretty windy out today. wind sucks unless you need it for something. i don't. so it sucks. i kidnapped prince william last night so now i have to return him today. we watched elton john on saturday night live last night. i remembered him being on there in 1982. i was twelve. i stayed all night at my best friend genny's house so i could watch it. i was FORBIDDEN to watch snl at my house. elton john, in my opinion, has loosened up a WHOLE bunch. he is no longer the stuffy tight quiet- finger up the ass- person i remember. he was funny and smiled allot- and very normal. when prince william first saw him at the beginning of the show- he had no idea who he was- so i told him he wrote all the music for 'lion king' and he seemed like that was all he needed- he was cool with that- he loved the lion king.

14/21

dear can you tell diary,

so can you tell that i am defective? i mean really. usually i am so damned ass perfect. i feel bad not giving you a hundred percent. ahahaha. the good news is... you know i wouldn't let you down now... the up side... the unibomber is having his birthday tomorrow and ima be a shitty sick mess for the celebration. that may sound mean to most of you- but let me assure you- it isn't. this little bobble head bitch has ruined, ima go way out on a skinny limb and not break it and say, honestly, a good fourteen of the twenty one birthdays of MINE we've had together, by being either intoxicated for the first five, or just his general self for the remaining sober nine- or gone- one or the other. there was a couple i think he was in jail for driving- but ida counted those as good ones. for many years, if we stayed together the six weeks between his birthday and mine- that would usually mean we'd be together the rest of the year- but not always. now that we're old it's weird. i never really thought much about getting old when we were young and now the kids are our age when we were dumb. yup. there is something way more wrong with me than a sore ass throat i'm afraid.

clean up- center isle

dear keeping the little boy i found diary,

i had to stop at the drug store and walgreens- way over crowded. i go to cvs. i'd been in there once before and bought some liquid tylenol- right after they opened last summer- only one other time had i been in there- i knew they were a little higher in price maybe- but i just wanted cough drops- something to knock down my throat a little on the way to work- rush rush. i walk in- simple enough- i see a young man. he sees me. we see each other. i notice him and think to myself, "wow, that young man looks like prince william.... alot." well, i know that ain't MY prince william, because he lives about 50 miles from here and hasn't text me or called and told me he was coming- but my mind cant dismiss the likeness. i continue towards the guy- who is still looking at me. "mom?" he says. i walked right on by him like i didn't even know who the little mother fucker was. i was so pissed off at this point, i could have assaulted him in the store. 

i'd just as soon spit

dear it is officially official diary,

i have a sore throat. me, the whore who NEVER gets sick. the whore who BELIEVES in the flu shot. the whore who hasn't been sick since FEBRUARY 2007. while dying doesn't seem like a viable option, killing someone does. whoever gave me this shit would be who i would go after- but i don't know anyone who is sick. could i have brewed this up on my own? i wonder. at least i don't feel bad. i'll be better after two boxes of popsicles and a box of kleenex- the kleenex to spit in. i was taught to spit when i grew up. mom always said, "get the sick away from your body," so i tried to teach the boys that too. they sure caught on quick. prince william loved that idea when he was a baby, "mommy spit... mommy spit," he would say, but it sure did always sound like, "mommy shit... mommy shit," cuz he always had a mouthful. finally he would do it on his own- what a day that was. my kids were NEVER sick- but when they were- the world sure came to a halt. kinda like it is for me now.