April 23, 2011

i could be a hermit whore

dear in my life diary,

looking back over the favorite places i've been over my life- is what i've found myself doing tonight. i've been sitting high in the mountains of durango, colorado for the last couple of hours remembering the taste of the air and the feeling of my fingers digging deep in the bed of pine needles as far as they would go. i remember how peaceful it was to sit there alone- just me and the sunshine- and the great landscape. you can learn so much about yourself when you hike in the mornings before breakfast. i think i must have sat under those pine trees back off the edge of that cliff for at least two hours- but it could have been longer that day. i wasn't on a time schedule- cherrie and dale had prince william- who was only four months old at the time- and i had so many thoughts of the future in my head. everything was new back then. i would love to go back there- but i wouldn't know how to get there prolly. everything i wished for came true. everything. i wish ida known what to wish for.

hard to explain

dear now what are you doing diary,

so how's it hanging?  i just broke down and got sweet potatoes. i had to. what would turkey be without it. i am cooking some chicken now for broth. the stakes don't get any higher than turkey and stuffing and sweet potatoes and gravy. tunnel vision. no other meal. i dunno but when one room gets cleaned- another shouldn't get dirty. just sayin. and this used to be the kitchen, now it is the dump yard for the my child's room. how am i to cook here now? oh my. when will things change? not anytime soon prolly.

a CuNtFaCe in a BASKET

dear kidney in the street diary,

i love it when people drive by and yell at me when i am inside my house. omg. it is such a cool feeling to know that someone went completely out of their way to blurt some meaningless word like, "whore," as they pass my house. i mean, i cant WAIT til it's MY turn to yell 'CUNTFACE' when i'm on the way to walmart, at least i'll be on my way somewhere- i won't be making a special trip beins the gas prices and all. since the bitch lives a block away from the walmart- it'll be really convenient for me- unless they foreclose on the old bi-level by the time her tailor made law expires- cuz you know those don't last forever- no matter how many lies you tell to get 'em.

not for a pepsi

dear good times in the soda shop diary,

one of these days someone will get smart around here and open up a soda shop. i get so tired of drinking the same shit everytime i swallow. i want a cherry cream soda so bad- i almost cant see straight- and i think i want cherry syrup in it too. yup i do. the first one i had was at mt. rushmore. it was sure tasty. i went back and bought the rest of what they had on the way out of town. i found the same kind online and bought it- and then everytime i go to california i get it at bevco, but here at home- you cant get it- and get this- its made by miller beer- and manufactured in the state above ILLINOIS (wisconsin) and i still cant buy it- the lady said it ain't sold in our market. she said if i took a tour of the plant where they MAKE it- i could taste it prolly. fuck a taste. i ain't driving all the way to milwaukee to taste my favorite pop. so it just sucks you cant bring liquids on the plane. and packing more than four in a suitcase never works out. what can you do? drive to california AGAIN. with an EMPTIER trunk this time. dammit. i am glad i am so smart. 

forking the new toy

dear new toy in the house diary,

becky got a new toy and the grump didn't and he is upfuckingset about that shit- let me tell you- and it is a sock monkey that squeaks. he watches her as she pulls the stuffing from the nose- just like he taught her too. he mumbles under his breath- and it doesn't take a translator to decode his message either. well, snooze you lose- she has walked away from the sock monkey and the grump has moved in. she just went outside. we all slept well- we just got up. i never woke up one time. it was the perfect nap. ima miss smelling the turkey cook tomorrow. i mean- it'll prolly still smell on the porch- but it wont stink up the whole house like it usually does. i maybe woulda ate some sweet potatoes- but i said fuck it and didn't get any. i suppose it ain't to late- but unless i shit them out of my ass- it is. cuz i ain't going to get them. oh fuckit i might. i suppose i could send the unibomber- he really cant fuck that up.

the sheets ain't fresh

dear if i was able to think for myself diary,

knowing all that is required to live a happy life, i would jump at the opportunity to remove all of my clothing and shoot to the nearest freshly linen bed and slide in naked and sleep for the next 14 hours in a soundproof room- no phones- no lights- no motorcars- just me and a sexy hairy chested man and becky and a bottle or two of aquafina- if dude don't wanna share. that to me is the idea of a perfect evening of romance. nothing sounds better to me in the entire world- except maybe a knock on the door and jimmy johns- after a fucking serious romp maybe. duh. i think that's what i need now. becky- the bed- and jimmy johns later. i'll go ahead and keep my clothes on tonight. 

dry bert dry

dear change counter diary,

today i emptied out bert again. i'll post a picture of him for you guys- here look. so anyway. he had 1,455
dimes in him and 56 half dollars and 13 nickles and 1 penny. i honestly don't think the penny was in my batch of coins- but it could have been- i wasn't going to argue with them. i don't know why i felt the need to cash in my dimes- i did my nickel bank last week- and wow what a big disappointment it was. i'll save my pennies and quarters because i never take in those- and i ain't still quite sure why those 13 nickels were in the dime bank- prolly cuz of some fucktard fucking around in my shit. but i am glad i got dirt and flowers with that money. now with the money i have left- i dunno- ice cream sounds good- or a green river at the 10k garage. not hardly.

little turd blossom

dear juan valdez diary,

i don't think i have ever been this tired. it has gotten me a long way today- however. my east flower bed is done- all but the mulch- and my hanging plants are done- the right way this year (patting self on back now) and there is one plant in the west bed- AND the tomato plants are done. i am moving right along. i bought five bags of yummy dirt today- amped up the west bed and filled up the hangers- i am ready. be still my POUNDING heart. i kicked some mighty ass. i got off cheap as a big bitch too, til i got to the hair place where my kid got his hair cut and dyed back to the NORMAL color he was born with. that cost me SEVENTY BUCKS for that shit. i told him he was going to GREAT CLIPS with a coupon til SCHOOL STARTS UP AGAIN cuz i ain't payin that shit no more. little fucker. shoulda planted his head in the flower bed. i bet something fruity would have grown out of the soil.

catching on yet?

dear i don't think it is rude, i think you are diary,

the unibomber told me this morning that he thinks i am 'rude' for talking in my sleep so much. that is why i am up so early in case anyone is wondering- but i know nobody is, and that's cool. i admit, sometimes it does get on my nerves when i talk in my sleep too, but i can't help it, i mean, it ain't like i sit there and purposely talk. so do i consider myself rude? well fuck no. are people who snore rude? as a matter of speaking, i'd say people who INSIST on sleeping with the tv on ARE RUDE, if you ask me, but then nobody EVER DOES- and that's fine. no, rude is when you talk BACK to the person who is asleep talking. because you know they AIN'T talking to you. so when i sing in my sleep- is that rude too? i think i talk in my sleep because it is pretty much the only time i am with anyone i want to have a conversation with. that's why i blog so much when i am awake. duh.

toe religion

dear walk it off diary,

it is time to devote some serious attention to the most outer region of my feet- my sexy toes. i intend on doing that very soon- possibly today even. i will pull out my toe bucket- which is stainless steel- and fill it with hot water and soak my toes until they look like rasinettes. then i will make all the necessary adjustments and prepare them for paint and let them airdry for at least two hours before i paint them. it will take that long to pick out the right color. mulling over each color is a daunting task. when i feel i've found the right one- i will place the chosen color on the floor and look down at it for one whole minute. if i can still tolerate it, i will set that color aside and try for another. after i have selected at least three colors this way- i find a very bright light and look at the colors i have chosen again under the light- eliminating one. then the ultimate decision will not be made by color- but by thickness of the paint- or size of the brush. if the brush is an old style brush- it is rejected immediately- marked and shelved on a different shelf to await a new brush from an empty bottle of polish with a new style brush. this all must be done so the turkey will cook properly on the front porch. 

funny weather

dear saving all my chirps diary,

obviously, the birds save their morning chirps for when the weather is decent. yesterday morning when it was raining- they didn't chirp once and today- they are 'over-chirping.' fucking birds. who knew they knew to keep track. i cut my cuticles last night and now it appears that i need a fill- and my nails aren't even acrylic. omg the little fucking yipping dog is out next door now. shit. everyone will be up. it better not start barking or ima kill it. today i could- because of the birds. ima take a long hot bath shortly- prolly with bubbles. i have a little shopping to do today- i need potatoes for tomorrow. the noodles will be good on top of smashed potatoes. i like food. oh look- the birds shut up and that dog went in- now that it's raining again. just in time for a nap. make up MY mind then. 

sheltered or smashed

dear the holiday car crash diary,

my cousin ginger, (yes, she had red hair and yes, that was mean but she was college age in the mid 70's so i doubt if they thought about it much back then since south park wasn't invented yet) was driving home on spring break in a 1971 vw bug her sophomore year at college and a semi truck hit her head on and was killed instantly. omg my whole family went into total shock. her mom, aunt sissy, fucking she went to the loony farm not to long after that. uncle sonny owned a restaurant in waco, (of all places) and divorced sissy and married some indiana woman my dad didn't know. these were some of the strangest people in my family and after the death of ginger (the only one who had a chance in that family) they only got weirder. after that, my mom wouldn't let me want a vw bug or a beetle. i couldn't even watch herbie the love bug when it came on tv- she'd turn it- and i know that's why. we didn't play slugbug or nothin on the way to grandma's anymore- everything changed. i had the chance to buy one myself a few years ago and declined- i thought of ginger. she'd be old now- if that semi hadn't smashed into her all those years ago- or if she'd been driving a real car. oh and that herbie movie- i watched it finally- and it really wasn't shit either.

the 24 hour FLU

dear knowing what i know diary,

what is done is done and it's done. it is. it really is. so if someone could explain then, why the ache then- when it is so clear that i know then- because obviously there are some issues there that need to GO then- i am missing not so much the who but what and when. i can never return to that friend- i want to make that clear then- about the end- i just did not figure on the ache man. fuck.

NEXT PLEASE....

dear almost eight thousand people diary,

sometimes i get embarrassed because now all these people in the world out here know ima whore and i'm alright with that fact. but before i was a whore i was just a dirty slut, and before that- a dirty girl. i like bein a whore best tho- it sounds more distinguished- like i know what i'm doing better- more of a professional. i used to like having sex more than i do now- but it still feels really good. fucking will always be my favorite and i doubt if i'll ever make love again. but, i do love my job. i give an excellent oral presentation, i took speech in college and it really was one of my favorite subjects. i really didn't learn much- except organization skills. if you start out strong and end up strong- what you do in between really doesn't matter. AT ALL. eventually, i may retire and just be a dirty girl, but ima whore around this summer- or 'until further notice' anyway.

April 22, 2011

skinny noodles

dear pile up everybody diary,

let's just have an orgy. i have never done that yet. i have always wanted to. get a bunch of naked people in a pile and find holes. man. am i a pervert tonight or is that every night? i got nothing done today- but that is normal. ima do the same thing tomorrow- after i roll out noodles. ima get that done iffin it kills me- at least the fucktards will have noodles for easter dinner. i am ready to eat some turkey. ima still cook it on the porch- that is my plan anyway. plan B is mexican food if something were to go wrong. i saw the sign- they are open. i just made my finger bleed. dangit. how special. i am not a big fan of jay leno. i like letterman. in case anyone ever wondered. but they prolly didn't.

center lane

dear kong hour at the whore house diary,

with everyone chewing so diligently, it is hard to distract them from their carnal duties. even the trigger words wont do it. it's like there is a race or some marathon- a chew fest- going on RIGHT NOW. i cant chew that hard on anything- it makes my ears ache. i used to love saltwater taffy too. oh my gawd- the peppermint kind. fuck me running. i'd eat some now- if it was soft. i want something to eat- but i dunno what. i'm hungry. kinda craving gravy. i love gravy. i dunno why either. i don't care about the mashed potatoes- just give me a damned spoon. some folks don't even like gravy- i think it depends on what area of the country you're from. people out west turn their nose up to gravy- but on the east coast- they'll make the shit out of bacon grease- and that's just nasty- iffin you ask me- but again, nobody ever does- and that's fine.

she likes it (not more than me)

dear belly of the grump diary,

i just love to watch these two play because i know there ain't nothing that will change the way things are between the two of them. becky gave the old grumpy fucker a nosebleed last night and he still loves her the same way he did- maybe more. as a matter of fact, he got angry with ME when i gave her a bath- she didn't mind- but he did because HE doesn't like baths and thought she shouldn't either. the bond these two idiots share is so special and i love being a part of their world and i wouldn't be me if they weren't a part of mine. i am so thankful becky was never subjected to the chapter of my life that closed before she entered. she helped me so much through the pain of dealing with the consequences of my whorely ways. she still helps me today, when she lets me touch her.

bed burgle

dear just burgle me why dontcha diary,

amazingly enough, the thought of someone stealing my bed never entered my imagination. but if i was going to rob houses- you know- i'd be a burglar- bet me if that would be all i'd take. i would find out who has the bestest bed and break in and smuggle theirs out. i would prolly be known as- the 'bed bandit' on the world news. i know one house on the north end of town that would be COMPLETELY safe, (SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE) cuz that bed sucked. wouldn't it be strange to come home and find your bed missing? and all your sheets and mattress pad folded nicely in a pile where your bed once was. i can see the red thumbtacks on the mapped corkboard at the copshop now, "got another missing box spring and mattress- queen size lieutenant." the bed bandit strikes again.

41 bucks in pennies

dear coming forward diary,

i don't consider myself to be so much a sensitive person as a sensual person. my bangs are so long right now i can barely see to type through them. ima let them grow and look shaggy for my important event next friday. the royal wedding aint shit compared to what i getta do- well okay- i suppose it is- but not to me. i will be the princess next friday. i will. and nobody around here can say otherwise. i finally getta turn in my court ordered mental health evaluation and explain why i still owed $41 to the man in the robe with the hammer. i will smile my little smile and tell him how good i have been. the fair and just man who saw through the shit will be the one i see again friday and i can not wait. this should be my very last time and everything will be behind me. finally. an end to a chapter of a book i checked out and returned on time and still got fined for reading.

words to live by

dear many things diary,

shit. damn. hell. bitch. whore. mother fucker. slut. cunt. fuck. fuck me. fuck you. fuck him. fuck her. fuck them. fuckers. suck my dick. suck my fuck. fuck my suck. shit fucks. fucker fuck fucks. bitch slut mother fucks. whore sluts. clam slammer. damn fuck. fuckin slut. cuntface bitch slut. hell shit fuck slut. asshole. dickmunch. clucker fucks. damn shit fucks. fuck it. fuck that. fuck this.

wet romance

dear it's one thing diary,

it is different when you fall asleep to the thunder and shit- but when it starts that banging and clappin in the middle of the night- it sucks cuz you ain't prepared, or at least i wasn't this morning when all that shit started. it really bothered me- the romance wasn't there. prolly cuz there was no foreplay or some shit- i dunno- but i took tylenol and shut the damned window- HARD. i usually love sleeping in the rain storm- not today so much. i was to busy talking again. babble babble babble. third night in a row i saw THE GOAT. i am getting a little tired of seeing him in my dreams. i spoke to him in last night's dream and he seemed at ease and almost nice. i told him i liked this lady's long pink coat- and he said it looked like a bath robe and we laughed. i woke myself up laughing out loud in real life- his comment was so funny- but i was so relieved to find myself holding becky. she licked me and i kissed her and we went right back to sleep and thankfully my dream station had changed. becky sure is softer since i gave her a bath. it is even harder to keep my hands off her now.

ham on rye

dear nail i almost broke but didn't diary,

i am so glad i like milk and paint my nails cuz if they was flaky thin and i drank sprite or some other flavored drink like that or tang- that nail would have broke off i bet. in a hurry or some shit. my shirt smells like an old sweaty neck on a geriatric dying man in a dirty nursing home full of urine that someone all of a sudden decided to clean up but you can still smell- cept my shirt don't smell like the piss part- just the neck. omfg what makes a shirt smell like this. i cant wear it.. ima have to soak it ina bowl of tide water. great. the hiccups again. ima donate my body to science. that is it. i get the hiccups 41 times in a week. today is good friday- as opposed to bad friday. a few years ago we went to virginia to see my dad for easter and i about ate the whole damn ham. that son of a bitch was good tho- it was the kind that comes in a panty hose and you don't refrigerate. omfg y'all i could eat another whole one right now. right now. well fuckit. ima pack her up and head out.

Lester is HOT... but he don't want me either

dear boyfriend at work diary,

lester is his name and last night he all but 'broke up' with me. all i did was ask when i could move in too- and that pretty much did it. things been going so well too. i thought he was cute. at first i thought the woman he was always with was his wife and so i was respectful and kept my hands and comments to myself and then one day while talking to his woman i made reference to her 'husband' and she came UNGLUED. so i asked her, 'well, is he on the market then?' and she said, 'sure, he ain't mine,' so from that day on- i just started claimin him. i thought lester and i made a fine pair and last night i told him about my blog. i think it took him by surprise- my name and everything- and for like 8 or 6 seconds i was embarrassed cuz- well- lets just say i was, but i got over it because- i just did. so now that all hopes and dreams of life with lester are over i suppose ima quit my job. for a while anyway. till sunday- that is.

fee free vacations

dear i don't wanna do shit tomorrow anyway diary,

sleeping, high on the list. after that- i don't even give two shits. i don't. i want to get the windows washed- but do i really care? nope. not at all. i wanna do a whole lot of things- but oh well. there's my train going by- loud tonight. it seems like i have been missing it lately. i'd like to hop on that bitch and head out west- but it wouldn't take me very far i bet. none of the ones that run around here leave i don't think- so i better just travel the safe way- not like a hobo. i got way to much luggage anyways to be worrying bout throwin it up on a rail car- gawd- my luck my suitcase would get on and i wouldn't and there'd go all my true religions down the line. oh fuck that'd piss me off too- how would you explain that? "train depot can i help you?" the lady would answer. "uh yes, mam, i hit a bump, in my convertible, as i was riding parallel with the train- and you see my suitcase flew out of my car and somehow landed on your railcar... and i was wondering if i could possibly have that returned to me at once?" i would plead with the railroad lady on the line, to which she would reply as she was phoning the authorities, "hold please."

raffle # 422-2011

dear yearly thing diary,

so every year since i can remember, i do something pretty cool, i think, starting today- because of the date. in our town some of the prefixes to our local telephone numbers are 422. we have 423, 424, 425, 428, and 429 too. so later on today, i'll call 422-2011, and i'll say, "yay! you are so lucky because your phone number is today's date!" and usually it's an answering machine when i do this- but sometimes they answer. once i think the lady REALLY was surprised and didn't know. that makes my little extra effort worth it every year- that CHANCE they forgot. cuz i didn't, and i prolly wont either. and whoever has tomorrow's number always has the earth day number- so dammit if they ain't super special. they should win a better prize than just a lucky phone call from the whore.

April 21, 2011

breast of lamb

dear chunks in my foot diary,

if the earth was in fact made of glass, dontcha think it would be broke by now? fuck i do. it would. with all the asteroids and shooting stars and rocket ships and shit flyin in and out of the bitch- snap crackle. i'm dumb, but i ain't stupid- if the earth was made of glass- this fucker'dah been broke. when i was little- i was pretty sure that inside the middle of earth was where Hell was- the actual address of Hell. then of course- way out past the sun- way past the sun- was Heaven. but Hell was close by- you didn't have to go far to get to Hell- if you were bad and you died- it was a handy place- close and ready. i spent allot of time digging as a kid- always trying to get deeper and deeper. you could say i was trying to dig my way to the other side of the world like my mom used to- i just needed to know what was down there. it's hard to appreciate all the time i spent tooling our yard back there, still the reasons are not all that clear. i am so happy the world ain't made of glass- cuz somebody'd done dropped us on our ass.

yank on it

dear trixiethewhore@bigstring.com diary,

i'm liking that a bunch. SHOUT OUT SATIN! someone named satin turned me on to bigstring tonight and i started squirming at the thought. i like strings. i played the violin and viola and cello when i was a kid- so strings and things like that have always been right up there for me. i miss wearing tampons- i know that sounds stupid- but technology had just made it to the feminine products really and then i got dug out- which i do not regret- but i did like the new pearl tampon allot. i think keeping my ovaries was the best decision tho. i like my little egg makers. plus, i might wanta have another baby someday with a surrogate mother and my super sexy new smart husband (who i have not met yet). and there is always that random chance that i will do something so cool and unbelievable- that like 40,000 couples will want me to harvest my eggs and give them up so they can raise my children. i prolly would for a gift card to arby's or something. i dunno. i don't really like arby's that much. omg i would want a little girl this time. it would be hard not to touch her while she sleeps like i do becky. becky doesn't growl or nothin- which makes it harder for me to stop touching her. i try to leave her alone but my hands always end up where they shouldn't and i think she likes it. i know i do. she is so soft there- where her hair quits. if she didn't have a tail she would be perfect.

north american tour

dear i am alone diary,

i can see why you think you belong with me. i make good spaghetti. i never see what is wrong or what is stupid. i like the rain and the sunshine. and i don't mind when we used to be broke all the time. i don't care what you want to do. you can stay longer or come home and stay all fucking day. if you want to work- that's okay. i could stay with you for a while too. i fall in and out of love with love with you. you don't seem to mind- i think that is why you return all the time. you walk down the road- you did take me to ventura highway-you said where the wind took us- and then we came home- where we belong- and the nights were so strong with the love and the bond- but the time that was that passed us by- and i don't want to be alone.

flyers on the pole

dear don't it feel good diary,

send a search party for the whore's blog. the unibomber has made a threat, says he intends on, 'taking it out.' he wants to, '186 that mother fucker.' all this he said in his UNDERWEAR. wants to unleash the lawyers now. i think he is jealous. now he is singing, 'bad blogs bad blogs- whatcha gonna do,' yup- he is jealous. ima have to change my password from PASSWORD to something else now. fuck. truth be known- i think i saw the goat today. he prolly thinks i don't recognize him in his different truck. i had my foot out the window so i was distracted and almost didn't see him, however and unfortunately, i did- and it sucked. usually i roll up my window but since my foot was in the way i couldn't. my fucking foot.

guest stars

dear guest appearances diary,

so when you see strangers up in your dreams- WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE ANYWAY??  that is what gets at me for hours after i wake up sometimes. who are they? what do they offer? as a general rule, i hate people. people just fucking suck. not you personally- i am sure you are just fine (you- meaning whoever you are reading this- as i don't want to point fingers or single anyone out- unless of course you happen to be CUNTFACE then you should already know you suck- with that being said) i hate people. i don't know why really. i think it is because people like me so much. i don't know- don't care- i still hate people. people usually suck. there are only a few million people i can deal with. bitchy people- OUT. whiny people- OUT. people who cant cum- OUT. people who have to take showers immediately after sex- OUT. road ragers- OUT. people who sleep with the tv on- OUT. non flossers- OUT. people who cant kiss a dog- OUT. non kissers OUT. the list just goes on and on, but those are a few at the TOP. when strangers appear up in my dreams doing all the above- and various other things- it doesn't sit well with me for the rest of the day- the things they've done don't seem to go away. i know dreams hold meanings and answers to questions in our awake state life- sometimes i feel i could find the answers better with a razor sharp knife.

i never shut up

dear talking all night diary,

all i did was run my mouth last night and clean the big mirror in my dream. then i had breakfast with a very nice and sexy man and when the check came- he paid for the whole thing. i was shocked- almost cried even- and when he left our waitress a ten dollar tip- i thought to myself (still in my dream,) "what a generous show-off," and then as we were leaving- he gave this clearly unfortunate couple ten bucks- FOR NOTHING. i have a hard time watching people give money away when i am awake and i know now it is the same way when i am asleep as well. i dunno why- i guess cuz when i needed money- nobody ever gave it to me- i dunno. nobody pays for my breakfast either- i always get the check and leave the tip. fuck me- i wouldn't know how to act if someone else paid the bill- i prolly would cry. i do know how it felt when i folded up and put two dollar bills under the stinking armpit of the sleeping man at a table inside mcdonalds in west hollywood. my heart beat fast- i felt like a child slipping it under him so quietly and darting off- and the whole plane ride home- i imagined him eating a chicken biscuit.

xoxoooxoox

dear you can go where you want to diary,

you should leave your friends behind. you should drive by my house and honk real loud and make me laugh like you used to. you should have a baby- the cutest little boy- and it should have a small dick- just like you have a small dick- and he should bring you lots of joy. you should prolly get remarried and invite me and the unibomber to the show- we'll bring a cool present and i wont snicker during the ceremony- shit we prolly wont even go. you should move across the street from me and show me your bare ass through the window at night- oh nevermind- he'll be watching and that'll just cause a big fight. oh for fucks sake- what was i thinkin- we still hate each other- my bad.

safety dance

dear hot fudge and all that shit diary,

oh my gawd becky. she is sleeping with her head resting on the grump's ass you guys really should see this shit. that is what i call LOVE. the grump doesn't like to be touched while he is sleeping- so what a sight. all i had on my mind earlier was a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on it, but now- ima need a brownie. brownies are good when they are either hot- or chewy. if you overcook a batch of brownies- that's a bad ass shame- just a terrible thing- but if you hurry up and eat the whole fucking pan- you ain't wasted shit. once them fuckers start to cool off tho- garbage is what they are- hard pieces of dangerous garbage. you can really fuck yourself up on an overcooked brownie too. i am talking mouth trauma. oh AND teeth trauma- oh fuck yes. it ain't never happened to me- but i've seen it. fucking awful shit man- gettin fucked up by a brownie. i try and keep most nuts off of my brownies- as a safety precaution.

April 20, 2011

diary of a smart whore (0H NOW I GET IT DUH)

dear social security number diary,

you know i still remember the hero's social security number. his credit score is an even 619 so it wont do any damn good to steal his identity, but it is a lesson to not let some stupid whore rummage through your wallet at any and all times. gawd he was dumb. pretty soon my total head count of stawkers will be the last for digits of it- real soon- ain't that about a bitch- and why i even want to reflect on such a tidbit of knowledge is beyond me. some whores ain't stupid and some are. hell, i didn't even know i was a whore until his ninja warrior cuntface wife told me. i still betcha her pussy sucks- and that is not just based on what i've been told- but what i've seen with my own two eyes. she is an uptight woman- you can tell she would never letcha fuck her in the ass- she is not a dirty girl. i wanna do it all. i'm hungry. that's prolly why i was one of the chosen whores- to pleasure her husband in the ways her 'hotdog down a hallway' cunt could not. i wear the special crown of glory- because for five years he returned to me. gawd i was dumb.

bathroom court

dear that bath diary,

after that, i knew i was the luckiest girl in the world. i just fell back in the waiting warmness and stayed there until i didn't feel the world revolved around me anymore and then i thought about getting out- and then i got more hot water and stayed another twenty minutes and only THEN did i rise and dry myself with the best smelling towel ever. i love clean towels and i think i lost consciousness tonight in the bathtub- it was so fucking good. let's imagine it was against the law to do what i do in the bathtub everyday- what would be a fitting punishment? oh i know- showers, sentence the offender to showers. that would be awful- for me it would. i simply would refuse- hold me in contempt. bucket baths would suck. oh man. an audience sucks- so a public bath would ruin it.... depending on who the audience was- i take that back. limit the water? i need less than 20 gallons now... i get three good ones in 58... anyway, thank goodness there are no laws against the pleasures of self bathing. yet.

the sportsman's club

dear hop and a jump diary,

sitting on the edge of the water, sometimes it is tempting to think about jumping in- head first. gotta check the calendar first tho, make sure it ain't a first shift day- wouldn't want to be rescued by the 'hero of the year.' i'll come back to this place tomorrow- or the next day- just to make sure. if you take the 'private investigator' out of opinion- what you have left is an onion- and those (when sliced with a dull knife) will make you cry, but i like them so much i'll bleed through the tears and eat them fuckers all day- as long as they're cooked. i can still swim, i think, but i dunno, i haven't tried for a long time. i assume it's like riding a bike- but i dunno if i can do that- i haven't done that for quite some time either. i know i can still rollerblade- i just did that shit the other day- there might still be some hope for me- hopefully i wont get in any one's way.

flippin a lid

dear damn it is cold diary,

i woke up freeezin my ass off and wishing i had not packed away my feather blanket. i also woke up hungry and horny, but i'll eat and take a bath later. i drove a school bus in my dream last night- i had to because the real driver didn't know how- the bus was a stick shift- and i waited for the goat to get home from work with a few other people in his driveway- hoping he would be in a good mood. i don't mind dreaming about the goat- as long as i don't see him. and why is it so cold today? whooda thunk this would happen? i don't think i will be able to nap for a while this morning, which is odd in and of itself, so i thought i would try and stay awake for a while. hopefully i am wrong and i can go back to bed and sleep til at least noon because i have nothing to fill the next hour and a half. i could match socks, but i ain't. i could go get a rat for the snake, but i ain't. maria didn't come to clean yesterday, she wants to come this afternoon- ima go after the rat then and prolly do the socks then too. i just hate mornings anyway- even if they are holidays.

bucket of dirt

dear better holiday than Christmas diary,

rejoice, four twenty has arrived. i do envy all those whose birthday is on this day (with the exception of this one girl who has the name of a man) if i had the choice of any day for a birthday- it would be upon this day i would have chosen. the two numbers just sound good together- four twenty. i like today and always have- especially when i smoked pot. today is the day we always planted our weed outside. oh the good ole days. how i miss them. i'd be happy just to buy a big huge sack off the corner- but i can wait. it's gunna be a weird feeling, not getting blowed today. i suppose i could get a cake or a bottle of wine- but i hate wine- so cake would be better. i betcha the trending topics on twitter will be weed related all day. so at least that is something to look forward to. happy day my pretties. i hope everyone has the day off (except CUNTFACE and her under endowed city employee cheating ass husband).

celebrate white russian style

dear Russian Girl Marriage diary,

get your bongs, hookahs, pipes and blunts ready kids! it's four twenty. even tho i'll be sitting this one out, i can watch and help with the paperwork. as of right now there are over 22,000 Beautiful Girls from Russia Seeking Love & Marriage. in russia they celebrate a traditional four twenty as well. there are so many profiles to choose from online. they advocate your own background check- so you could end up with your very own four twenty supplier or Russian spy to make the love connection even more exciting for the both of you. the girls on this site are so beautiful and willing to accommodate your every 420th desire.

April 19, 2011

lunch with the legs

dear going there diary,

flooding is a concern if you're still in a ditch. i just got out of the bathtub and i would still be there, but i couldn't stand looking at all the slings of hair floating around again on the bubbles. i shaved my legs again and it's really weird how much hair that comes off the tiny fuckers. you wouldn't think they'd have so much on them- cuz you sure cant see that shit when i'm up slitherin across the floor. oh fuck, at least i hope you cant. i know i cant cuz i don't look. i fucking love my legs. more than anything i do. i am so lucky to have them little skinny fuckers. i used to hate my legs- oh no- not anymore. i hear whores with skinny legs are in high demand. i better start paying more attention to them before somebody else does.

legal issues that come to mind

dear so now what about this diary,

can you be CIVILLY UNIONIZED and LEGALLY MARRIED at the same time? okay- say PHIL is legally married to KAREN and wants to be CIVILLY UNIONIZED to MICHAEL. is that legal? or does he have to divorce KAREN or can he just hook right up with MICHAEL? that has to be really confusing for some people and to get those hopes raised with the question as well. what will it mean to be civilly unionized? will it be something recognized one day and illegal the next? do you have to be the same sex to be civilly unionized, or can you opt for that instead of marriage? i'd like to know more about this. as a whore i am sure i will have many questions that i will want to be able to provide answers for. everyone likes an edumacated whore.

knee pads- no helmet

dear control room staff diary,

knowing they work around the clock, my body guards have horrible jobs. watching all the people who pay no attention to me as i walk through the airports and malls has got to be the most boring detail assignment ever, and i really don't see the reasoning behind it- but i know during the period of the bogus restraining order- i can use all of the alibis i can get- so i don't complain. when the restraining order is lifted, however, i will contest their constant companionship and stupid ideas about what is safe and what is not. ima big girl ina big world and i don't wanna play by rules.

buy one get one

dear people who always look for shit diary,

if you put things where you always put things, then they will be there when you go to get them. check yes or no. i know, i failed to put a box. i dont expect a check, put if you want to send one- let me know- i'll give you a paypal account number. ima whore, i get paid for services rendered- usually- i'm like a store. it has been weird adjusting to my fancy title- but living up to and exceeding expectations- a days work all the same. when you need to look across to the other side- it is easy to think about how green the grass will be- but even mowing will be necessary there- unless you picked out gravel. a whore is a whore no matter to what store you go- and they come in every size and flavor. i don't care where i go- just so you don't shop there.

wet & wild

dear what about me diary,

i got new lawn furniture while ago- the wind blew me some in my yard. if somebody dont claim it here in the next coupla hours i might have to dry it off and paint it and scribble whore all over it and make that shit mine. it looks pretty new too. how's about that for some recycling. i am a good recycler. i used to be. i'll get good at it again soon. the city bitches are posta deliver our new carts by the end of the week. with my luck the fuckin fire department will be the ones to pass out the bright blue fucking things. imagine that. the heroes- bringing around the fucking garbage new garbage tubs. FUCKERS. i'll get violated for coming 50ft within the firetruck at the end of my driveway- when the city fuckers came to me. i'd still like to know what would happen if my house was to catch on fire. or worse- if i was to wreck on the EAST side of town on a first shift duty day. i swear i'd crawl off and die in a ditch- but i've already said that. ima go outside and wait for a table to blow by and see if i can grab one of those. i've always wanted one with a big umbrella like they got over on the NORTH side of town. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE.

i washed up

dear cramp in my toes and a smell in my nose diary,

the grump got out while i was chasing prince harry out the door screaming at him like he hates it when i do, (and i love doing) i told him to never come back- in front of his cute little girlfriend. i could see how red faced he was even from almost a block away, i'll be hearing about that again later- and he better not hit me- cuz the grump snaps whenever you so much as even ACT like you're gunna hit me- so it really charges him up when someone does. prince harry loves to play slap on me- just enough- then he'll leave the rest to the grump. i got what i deserved already- the grump was next door shitting in my neighbor's yard. fuck. i decided to do the right thing and clean it up. when i got over there i realized- he's been shittting over there A LOT, either that, or her tiny dog has an enormous butthole. double fuck. i went back to my house for my garbage toter and more paper towels. fucking kids.

lay still

dear learning new tricks diary,

i learned how to cuddle with the grump today and i slept on my bed with no mattress pad. eww. what you have to do is come to him. since he sleeps upside down- and wont turn around- what i did (and found that worked) i slept upside down too. i was able to hold him and touch him anywhere i wanted and even control his rude ass snoring by grabbing a handful of skin around his neck and pulling- which would change his airflow and snore pattern. i had my whole arm around him- which fit perfectly- and we spooned for a record time. he only growled for the first few seconds and then i never heard the slightest complaint. i am thinking we'll be doing that again very soon.

whores ain't terrorists

dear rotten fingernails diary,

i am just having the worst time with the color of my nails today. it is driving me insane the green shit. ima tell you right now- if they weren't so perfectly painted- i'd have them stripped off and buffed out- but dammit if they didn't take the best application of paint i personally have ever seen. i am talking magazine quality front cover layout style excellent fucking job. unbelievable. both hands. every nail. i gotta leave them. omg and they are stupid long again. stupid long. it took half a bottle of polish to paint them- ok- not quite half the bottle but a nice chunk. it was the perfect thickness too. i bought two bottles of thinner, well, i started off with one bottle and i came home and i used up the WHOLE bottle on all my polish. i thinned everything and needed more. i was so happy because there were at lease 50 colors i couldn't wear because they got so thick. so i got another bottle of thinner, (the second bottle) and i've used about half of it. i am so happy having thinner again. for a long time i couldn't get it because of the terrorists. the terrorists bought several pallets of it at beauty supply stores and the government restricted the sale of it for a while. but they can do what they want now. i have what i need for another 5 years- or so.  

here comes the train again

dear curbside service diary,

i despise waiting alongside the road. something else i hate- the sound of an abandoned radio playing. if you ain't gunna listen to it- turn the bitch off. same goes with the tv. turn the bitch off. honestly. the apparitions in this house where we live today prefer the quiet- as opposed to when we lived at the farm, they liked the noise- but the house was much bigger- having six bedrooms- it was quiet when it had noise. you couldn't fill that house with sound- no matter how hard you tried. i liked the staircase the most at the farm- it curved going up. the banister was awesome. it led down to the huge front door that was such a grand entrance to a beautiful house. i could have lived there forever- but i'd be penniless. i don't see how people survive with the propane bills and gas at four bucks a gallon- two teenage boys- it would have killed me now- but when the boys were small- and times were different- it was a memory i wouldn't want to trade for anything. it's all over now. to there i wouldn't go back- but further i might. i might go back to a night alongside the road- when i waited and it was cold. when that man stopped and gave me a ride- and he asked my name- only this time- i wouldn't lie.

caps in the cradle

dear blues clues diary,

i dunno what you're gunna do, but i don't want my fingerprints all over those 'sea' shells. last time i was at the 'beach' i found a 'sea' shell of my own and that's enough for me. the one i have is special and out of it i made a necklace that i will never wear. it hangs above the mirror where i always curl my hair. i never curl my hair tho, rarely ever i do, but when i see that necklace hanging- i ALWAYS think of you.

i'm fully staffed

dear breakfast is served diary,

the mail already came. i know- amazing. what my mailman brought me today i have been waiting for since i sent my last pages of sweat to new york, my fucking last check from 914. it wont be my LAST LAST check, but it will be for a minute- he said until they find out where they are at now that they are back to full staff again. i should have moved out there. i really should have. but i am glad i didn't. i've been trusting my gut more and more lately- which i should have started doing in 2005, but for some reason didn't and look where that fucking got me, (in court) but since i have been relying upon the instincts of my wise belly- i have made incredibly dead on accurate decisions i can only assume were from the direction of my smart stomach. so i follow it with intense measure these days. nevertheless- i was happy to see that envelope today and the dictation from 914. he always sends a little personal note keeping me up to date on how everything is on the right coast of our country. he is still 'on' me about having my picture taken- but this time added a smiley face after his harsh words. fuck a picture anyway.

compound words

dear thunder and rain diary,

i admit, painting my nails this green color, jade is the new black, is really going to take some getting used to- or really going to be hard to ignore. i am still not quite sure what i was thinking when i did that, but it is done now. and why is it that when i paint my nails some really fucked up color- it's like the best paintjob EVER in the world ever? every single nail is perfect no airbubbles- no brushmarks- fucking nothing. it's bullshit. i need to get dishsoap today. i am almost out. that huge bottle lasted since Christmas tho- impressive huh? i thought so. don't get to grossed out- the dishwasher runs twice a day. i love dark mornings like this. i sleep so good. ima do that some more after my girl comes back in and i wipe her feet off cuz i know iffin i don't- she'll just plop down on my ass wet. the bitchwhore. i do love her.

no flame- no shame

dear tonight was the only time i did diary,

i found myself daydreaming tonight about the strangest things- stuff i have made myself forget about- which made me think of other things i hate to think about but often do anyway- when my sexual frustrations are high- like they were when i was fucking around like a nasty whore would. i still don't understand what made me feel so good about myself- while i was participating in said behaviors- prolly just the fact that someone paid attention to me- cuz you know- you kinda have to pay attention to someone in order to use the fuck out of them. omg. i was dumb. what would be a good revenge? oh hail. oh fuck. let me sit here a second. gee whiz. i dunno. i think the best revenge has already been served- and i did not have my hand around it at all. poor guy has no length or girth- his penis is very small. that to me is revenge enough because no matter who that little fireman bitch is with- he played havoc with my life- but he sure cant fuck worth a shit.

April 18, 2011

dropkicK an orphan

dear hear the floor squeak diary,

something about an old painted wooden floor when you walk barefoot across it- the sound of the skin swishin across the boards making them angry in certain spots and squeak from your weight. i stuck my hand through the wall when i took this picture last summer- there are several holes there to choose from- one big enough to crawl through. there are doors as well- but i stopped going in once the property was formally divided. the house is no longer ours, but it is safe to assume the ghosts that live there don't recognize details on paper. i grew up in this house and nothing about it scares me. i kinda wonder why some of the things that are missing are- like the part of the floor and some of the baseboards, but it really doesn't matter i suppose. i hear the house will be torn down soon and then there will be just dust. hopefully if i invite the spirits who live there- to stay they will move to the barn.

plate glass window

dear i'm to be your captive diary,

would you rather be a dead hero or a living coward? i am shockingly unqualified to be either. i am just a whore. no need to declare myself a hero. you prolly wont see me dart off in fear- i just live a pretty simple life- drifting from year to year. if it's all about where you come from- then wait for me outside. i'm going somewhere different- i've changed my mind. take your train to nowhere, i will stay here. i will travel by wormhole from now on- nobody will know when i am gone. any rapid movement will make me return, but i will grab hold to whatever i can and try not to. you can bet on that shit.

I'M cha-cha-changing

dear bewhore i take a nap diary,

i am so damn proud of myself it ain't even funny. i did two very grown-up things today and i am so beaming excited- i dunno if i can sleep once i even get to the bed once i get into the bed so ima wait to go to the bed for a minute and then go. the first thing i did was roll up the window when i saw a goat. it wasn't even hard. i just reached down and rolled my darkened window up. usually when i see the goat- or a goat even- i want to look over at it. it didn't even phase me. i leaned down and kissed the little kidnapped fucker between my legs and went on home. the second thing i did today- was followed the instructions in that new book that came in the mail the other day and took a new route stawking. i just didn't go. how about them apples. i was a block away and said, "FUCK IT," AND CAME HOME Y'ALL omg. i was in the hood- and skanked out the hood. ima say TODAY is a turning point. what a scary thought. the beginning of a boring life. i don't fucking think so... but we'll see. ok i feel like i can nap now. whew.

amber alert

dear survey diary,

if ten people were surveyed now, betcha nine of them would think that i've been asleep for the last four hours. not so. i have had a minor child in my care and enjoyed the little fucker. it was actually fun. i usually don't like kids because they cry and whine and are so demanding- but this kid was ADORABLE AS SHIT. we met up at the laundrymat- in my pajamas- and he came home with me from there. i couldn't find my car this morning and called every towing company in town looking for it- finally i found it where i would have never expected to- but at least it was safe and i didn't have to pay to get it out. so at the laundry mat- i kidnapped the cutest little kid- with his parents permission- and i brought him home and becky did not handle it well. the grump seemed okay with the new addition- but becky growled under her breath and had many obscene gestures- i've never seen her display before. i think she was jealous of the rugrat- but i cant be sure. she never bit at him or threatened him in anyway, but you could tell- she wasn't happy. i returned the kidnapped boy just now- and becky wont even look at me. ima woo her in the bed for a nap and see if i can make things better between us again.

taking over space

dear today i am buying dirt diary,

i love to buy dirt. i fucked myself good this year, but in the best way ever. for once my plans worked exactly the way that they were supposed to, (insert round of applause here) and ima get off cheap as hail. last year i spent a fortune. and this year i wont spend shit. tell you what, last year was a mother bitch whore of an expensive year- anyway you look at it. wow. i was certainly blessed in so many ways tho- and reaping the comforts still. ima get two bags of dirt for my only bed i getta do this year and two bags of mulch and i'll be done with the eastbed and ready for flowers in the westbed. i love fresh yummy dirt and pretty flowers to come home to. they wait for you. they smile for you. they smile back at you. they wake up before you.

manly trees rock

dear tree in my yard diary,

so last year i got an oak tree and planted it in my yard. the mother fucker died is what it did and i was hot to trot. i dug the bitch up and took it back and of course- no more oak trees were left. so the bitch said she'd either give me my money back or i could go pick out another tree and get it. BIG DECISION. let's see. humm. there is a big hole in my yard. i don't need the money. yeah, i'm thinking tree. ok, you talked me into a tree. ok, here's the thing. i may be a woman and by all appearances look like one, in fact- i am a woman- but i don't really like girly things. so, i get outside and all that's left are these 'girl trees.' fucking ornamental trees. worthless fucking idiot trees that have no use whatsoever. so. i pick out a tree with a picture of some long spidery branches- a weeping style- it damn near kills me- it has berries on it- and i think, 'i can live with this,' and i go through the necessary paperwork at the register- bring it home- put it in the hole- and water it continuously for the rest of the year and it doesn't die. YAY! i finally have a tree in my yard. i should be so proud. then, here spring rolls around you guys.... and i look out my window the other day. and i'm like, 'WHAT THE FUCK IS ON MY TREE BRANCHES?' and i go outside and omfg- little puffy white and pink FLOWERS have attached themselves all to every branch on that tree. and that IS NOT what the picture showed on the fucking tree when got it. i want to ax it down. part of me really does. ima leave it- but i dunno- it's a freak tree.

flavored lightning pop

dear looking for a fax machine diary,

my dad just called. his fax machine got hit by lightning the otherday with his singing snowman statue ornament and now it wont come on either- oh and the doorbell. ima tell you what- how dare a strike of lightning fuck with my daddy. now shit always happens to my dad at tax season. it all started that one year- i stole the car and got it stuck in a ditch and the state police officer brought me and the car home- on april 16th. it sure was cold getting all hosed off in the driveway at 2am- but he said he didn't want all that mud in the bathtub- and i was covered- just like the car. had i have stolen the car on any other night- i would have been killed- but daddy was so tired from working his ass off- to get those last minute taxes and extensions to the post office- he was just relieved the car and i were back in whole pieces- and that was back in the day when cops didn't have big hardons to issue tickets for every little infraction- my little excursion cost the amount of the towing bill. i overheard him tell the cop it was his fault for, "letting me drive the tractors all the time," and it was, maybe, but he let me drive more than the tractors- i drove the cars too. i was a good driver- and still am. i just do not turn around in the muddy ditches any longer. duh. as for my dad, at least we know the rest of the year will be uneventful for him and peaceful. anything that happens to him happens during tax season. since that ends today- he's cherry.

next available

dear quiet time diary,

i like to think sometimes, but i don't get much done when i do it. so that is why i don't devote much time to doing it without the keyboard handy to help me process whatever happens to float on through because- you  know- what if something important gets stuck in there- then i'm instantly fucked- and that is a great example as to why i try not to sit around and use my brain for extra thinking. plus the fact that it hurts when i do it- painstakingly causes those shooting throbbing pains that migrate from my head down my arms to my legs in through my twat around my back out my stomach and up behind my throat and back to my ears again- it is terrible. and what kind of doctor do you call for that kind of issue?

April 17, 2011

she wants me

dear I CANT LIVE LIKE THIS diary,

i know i just got up. you don't have to remind me. i know i said i would try and stay up til like 9 or 10, but in good faith- i tried- i just cant. i always smile, but in my eyes my sorrow shows- DOESN'T IT? if it isn't- then let me adjust something so it will. i think i just want to cuddle in the clean sheets with something warm and loving. i might be up later- if she leaves me. she prolly wont tho- seems like she wants it as badly as i do.

raisin my kids

dear turning the socks all right side out diary,

hurry up and do it and i mean it. you sick asses- i dunno why you feel the need to turn them wrong side out when you take them off anymfway. that's on you and that's why it's you guys sticking your hands up in 'em not mine- for the first time. how's it workin out for ya? sucks donit? i know. i been doin it for 22 years. i'm done now. at least we know where he gets it from- your son. maybe it'll break you both of it- but i doubt it. i won't do it ever again. so get used to it y'all. you'll like foldin the bitches too- it's just as fun.

crew socks

dear pony tail diary.

i like going to the laundrymat because it exposes you to various types of people you wouldn't ordinarily see in your basement when you do laundry at home and it eases the punishment of being at the laundrymat. is it called the LAUNDROMAT or LAUNDRYMAT- how does a person figure that out? and why do i really need to wash my washer? that is a scam iffin i ever heard one- but i do it. it does smell better once it runs through it's cycle or whatever- i just imagine it to be menstruating. i tell everyone, "leave it alone- the washer is on it's period," you know- cuz it's running with no clothes in it and you can actually see water in it. front loaders are funny cuz you never barely see the water in them. it's weird. the wet clothes come out practically dry and in weird ass shapes. i have this one sweater that comes out- looks like it is ready to go to outer space. it takes about a half an hour to pull it back apart from itself- you'd swear it would never fit my ass. last time i did it the unibomber said, "is that the same sweater you just had?" it was super tiny- and then it was normal again. it could be any size really- just depends on how long you stretch it out.

just walk home

dear mean things diary,

after my bath- i took a nap and now i have lost my good mood. the fuckin idiots are here- i swear they are- i just duck my head as i pass. it does me no good to say anything- outloud anyway- so i've learned to shut my mouth- but if you could hear what i am saying in my head you would die laughing on every word. sometimes i write it down- but only when it is new- most of the time i've written it before- so what use would writing it again do? if i had to start all over again- i wouldn't know where to begin. idiots are fine when you want to collect your material, but when your tools are put up for the day- it's like please- be smart- or just shut up- i'm done farming today.

not a fair trade GOATMAN

dear for the next hour or so diary,

you should think of me in the bathtub soaking. cuz that's where i am going now. i ain't taking any pictures tho. that would be very bad. i have before, but i am not anymore. that life is behind me now. it is. i ain't gunna lie and say i ain't never, cuz i have. i sent them to the goat. which i know now was the dumbest thing i could have ever done. and do i regret it? well yeah. why? because he never sent me shit back really. nothing worth a shit. plus- i woke up. i sent nasties to a goat y'all. wtf was i thinkin? oh well. it WONT happen again AND i got a whole new hairdo down there- sos ain't nobody gunna recognize nothin- and you seen one you seen 'em all. right? so what do i have to worry about? ain't like mine's small or some shit. LMAO.

prolly not small

braided & shaded

dear good times in the bathtub diary,

not having a bath since thursday, i do believe it is time again. i haven't smelled anything funky foul yet- but it shouldn't be long i'd guess. i think the mud in my bed absorbs the oil in my hair. usually when i do get in the tub like this- there will be a ton of little tiny becky hairs floating around. there used to be feathers too- but i put my feather blanket away after i washed it- so most of the feathers have dissipated (thank goodness). i think this week i will pack up my winter clothes and get out my spring shit. seems like as good of a time as any to start doing some of that. i should start investing in some razors again i suppose- and get the seaweed off my legs at a more regular rate. ima be white all summer long tho- i hate the sun. no sun for me. i've never had a tan. that's prolly why i still don't look my age. i ain't complaining. go ahead and make fun of me all you want. ima be the one laughing when the waiter thinks i am my eighteen year old son's GIRLFRIEND. 

no tears today FUCKERS

dear i shouldn't say anything about this diary,

whenever i talk (or write) about this subject- sometimes i feel quite guilty afterwards. i express everything, because i don't care, there is nothing worthy of remaining private any longer, but sometimes when i admit  what i am about to admit- i feel bad for those around me who either- don't feel the same way- or never thought i ever get to feel this way, but like i said- i don't care. i woke up happy today- happy in my heart- happy in my mind- happy in my soul- and happy on the outside. i know why too. it was all the people i saw in my dream last night. this is my favorite time of year- well- this and september and early october. i like the beginning of the spring season when everything is new- but i also love the end of the summer- when everything packs up and gets ready for winter to come. my eyes like the spring- but my nose likes the fall. even tho there are the bad memories that still taint the fall along with the beautiful leaves- those memories will fade- but the leaves wont. besides- i am happy today and the leaves are brand new again. i will have new memories by the time these leaves fall.

welcome to the whoreteL calipornia

dear no vacancy diary,

the shades are drawn. it is dark. i hear the distinct rhythm of sexual thumping on the wall- someone in the neighborhood is getting a pounding of a lifetime. why cant it be me for once. FOR ONCE? i remember when my pussy used to ache. i remember when my whole body used to ache. i remember when a frozen fifteen pound turkey wouldn't cool off the shit that was so fucking hot down there. i remember stretching my lips around the leg of that turkey thinking any minute it would be cooked enough to eat and we'd share it cuz i was fucking starved after all that. i remember thinking to remind myself to throw that leg away before i cooked that bitch for thanksgiving. it ain't like that now. my bathtub keeps me clean as i wait for the chinese sex slave ship to arrive. good night people around me who wait with me.

killing my favorite cow sucked

dear missing the smell of shit diary,

one thing i never ever thought i would miss is the smell of shit, but i do. the cow shit in the barn at my grandma's smells like nothing else. it has a crisp clean shit smell that can be matched with no other kind of animal shit- especially like horse shit or chicken shit- the three kinds of shit smell totally different. if you already know- then you know i am right, and if you don't- then trust me- i am. in the order of pleasantries- for me it would go, cow shit, then chicken shit, then horse shit. whatever you do, avoid pig shit at any and all cost. whatever you do. you can tip a cow over when it's sleeping, they sleep standing up. cows aren't dumb tho, they will fuck somebody up. you don't necessarily want to piss a cow off, but if you do- usually you can get away before she gets it in her head to come after you. they don't really move around real fast like the ones in the rodeos- i mean they can- but the ones at grandmas didn't- they just moved away slow. be nice to a cow and feed her well and take her to the butcher shop and scar a child for LIFE.

a new chew toy

dear your ass or mine diary,

since i slept all flippin ass day, i will be up all flippin ass night- in a perfect world that is. in this world- i'll be up i would say another 23 minutes and then i'll be sacked out like a fat ass- cept my ass ain't fat- but oh how i wish it was. there's been high traffic through here today- i ain't sure why- i haven't even posted anything i consider remotely pornographic in months. oh i suppose mouth sculptures was on the verge of being dirty- even tho it was true- excuse me IS true. i could suck any frozen treat into the shape of a phallus without so much as even a thought. i don't think its funny anymore either. ima start eating my frozen confectioneries right from the start- no more licking on anything. ima bite that head the second it makes it to my mouth- just so my subconscious doesn't try to sneak in any un-needed practice. for the love of Christ- let me be perfect at something.