Eric theoWhore Cartman

dear rolling over diary,

i am going to wash my hair in a direct fashion. except i might not. i am though. because it stinks like pooh. except not real pooh, hair pooh. something is making noise in the basement. i hate unidentifiable noises, in the basement or otherwise. they simply piss me off. south park is a relatively dumb cartoon with a colorful scheme and  simply ingenious writers who must smoke pounds of medicinal marijuana daily. i do not see how the ugly sketches of fat round ugly people made for such a wildly popular show. it MUST be the writing. has to be the writing. i love mr. hanky the christmas pooh. i do wish they would play that year around on Y103. kenny is stupid. but i want to fuck kenny, but cartman first. i think kenny is jewish for real. i read that somewhere. kenny is kosher man. but- i bet cartman has the bigger dick between the two. i like that little fat fucker. i don't care what anyone says. fuckit.

nosey pickey

dear i assume diary,

after nearly an hour, i just sat and looked at the picture with the same blank stare i'd been staring at it with. my feelings hadn't changed and they weren't going to. you know it cant get thrown under the bus without there being a bus in the first place. there was a bus. i hate buses. riding behind a bus is smelly and hard to see around. driving behind a bus is annoying- due to all the frequent stops. school buses are even worse- the train tracks and all the cute fucking kids sticking their tongues out at you. i always do it back. it is only fair. when i am a passenger in a car, sometimes i will roll the tinted window down and stick my finger CLEAR up my nose- but usually only on the highway. by the time the one kid who saw me gets the other kids attention- i've rolled my window up. on to the next one. the other kids prolly thought he was lying. i love seeing people smile. especially kids and old people.

licence to remember what i know

dear in shock diary,

i suppose it will seem weird now, adjusting to the loss of a missing person at my work. i say suppose, even though i know it will be because i know myself and how i react to these types of situations. plus i know that they come in pairs or sets of threes, usually, and this could count as one. please dear Jesus in the sky, let this not count as one, but judging from the emptiness i feel and the hurt, it's gunna count. i think i may have saw this in my dream, the one i couldn't access, but i still can only get fragments of it. sometimes i am locked out for reasons i can not understand until it becomes painfully obvious to me how late it really is when the information is finally revealed to me. i'll never understand fully how it all works, but i'll never stop trying either. someday maybe an all access pass will arrive and i'll be able to dominate all dream content at any given time and possibly save lives, forecast weather, and predict the lottery numbers. i may even know when i'll have good hair days and stalkers in the courthouse.

sudden departure

dear in the end diary,

when you crash in a car and die, how many minutes does it hurt before you stop feeling the pain? i wonder if you even realize there has been an impact. the last few minutes of your life- those thoughts that run through your head- you never figure to be your last- but they are. were they good? were they the best ones? i am so sorry. i just found out. i didn't know you very well, but, your presence was always felt. i love your wife more, so i hurt for her and your beautiful children. i am so glad you had your time in california this past march- it is the best place to go and love- and your daughter being prom queen the other day- made you so proud as a parent in every way. your wife is a strong woman- never lose faith in that, but you will be missed so deeply by her and so many others- in our hearts forever- a FACT.

poke my head or slap it

dear mind guzzle diary,

help me carry the storm. help me bury the thorn. help me realize why i let my life get torn. we had a tree in my back yard as a kid and ima post a picture of it in a second. we called it the Jesus tree. my mom would slap me when i made a crown of thorns and wore it around my head. we were not allowed to pretend to kill Jesus, even though we had the perfect tree to make the crown of thorns with. i finally had that tree cut down last september for my dad. he was afraid it was going to fall and hit the house. i don't miss that tree at all- or the wood i gave to lucky when he drove his truck in the back yard and we loaded most of it for his big 2011 wiener roast. he's gunna have a killer fire with the Jesus tree. now i am all set to wonder if a lightning strike will kill a non Jesus tree. if so, the one in the front yard will have to come down next.

bring it on home

dear things ain't like they used to be diary,

i'd assume everyone already knew that, but iffin they didn't- they do now. i cleaned up all the tree trimmings in the yard- like i knew i was gunna have to. i believe if you're gunna do some shit like that- you should at least finish it. it hijacks my day when i gotta finish someone else's work. i'll give you time to do it, but when that allotted time passes- and i gotta finish- it sours my mood some to finish. ida just pretty much rather done it all. i guess that makes me weird- or a jackass. i'll take either. i'm thinking nap now. it may be impossible to continue without one. yup. impossible.

booty jump

dear i hate my bank diary,

i sat in the drive thru at my bank for five fucking minutes today with the call button pushed before the little stupid voice came over the intercom and said, "may i help you." omg. omfg. i thought at that very moment that it was a good thing there was a big glass window and a belt across my lap between the little cunt and i, or ida come up out of my seat and possibly told her to her face who needed the help, but instead, i told her i needed a withdrawal slip for a savings account, which region's bank will NOT give out ahead of time. everytime i say i am gunna switch banks and one of these days- i am. i swear. and my day had begun so well too, i bent over this morning looking for the leash under the seat in my car and a man driving by yelled, "booty booty booty." i felt so young again. then when i got home from the bank, we practiced our fire drill. becky still has a hard time jumping out the window into my waiting arms. she will do it, but she shakes her head 'no' several times and woofs, "no," and then after i coax her she will- but if it was an emergency- i wouldn't have time to woo her. the grump will always jump, into waiting arms or the hard ass concrete. God knows there doesn't even have to be an emergency for him. i think he is almost suicidal at times. he jumps from a moving fucking car- you kinda gotta watch his stupid ass.

luxury liner

dear showgirl diary,

there was no time to put the pantyhose on- believe me they would have been ripped off anyway. i am a paid reader sometimes and usually i'll wear a costume. i like to sit on the edge of the bed, or in the bed when i read- it's more comfortable for everyone. i thought about going to ivesdale to have lunch at the blarney stone today- but i dunno iffin i can get up. my knee has a cramp in it and my fingernails are the dumbest shade of pukeshit brown- but i like to rotate my polish- so i figured while they were stupid short, a dumbshit brown was appropriate. i took the grump for a ride in the car last night and everybody would not stop looking at him. he is a beautiful dog and i bet he does look massive hanging out the window like he always does. i adjusted the mirror so i could see his lip flappin in the wind. he rolled his blockhead up in the window- i had to lock them. it is time to wrap this up and float.

dream blocker

dear yawning for air diary,

waking up just now i realized, i was one worn out whore. just worn completely out. i woke up refreshed. i know i had dreams- but they must be top secret- i haven't even had so much as a peep of their subject matter yet and i know i had a full feature presentation. sometimes my dreams are like the old tvs you have to tune in. i will eventually be able to receive, unless it is a defense mechanism my brain has concocted and it will be best if i block those dreams completely out of my head, which i can not dismiss that idea either- given the days event.

boo-yaaah

dear eat shit and die mother fucker diary,

my vacuum stinks when i run it. i don't know why either because i am anal about cleaning the filters. i take them out to the lightpole and beat the dogshit out of them. that way none of the dust comes back into my house OR yard by gawd. so HA. ima smart whore. the unibomber trimmed the trees. that may sound like a tremendous aspiration for him, and it is, we can all clap and cheer, but ima have to go clean up all the bullshit in the yard where i wish my one armed cactus was. i would sometimes point the arm to the west- and sometimes i would turn it to the east. but i would never point the arm to the north- because north pointing arms are bad luck and a sign of incompetence. people that live north are generally dumber people. ima take becky on a hike. we are going south towards the mexican border.

two hairy balls and that one armed cactus

dear somebody better whoop me diary,

man it feels so good to be released. no more underground railroad. i feel ungrounded. i feel like i did when i was little and my mom let me go outside again. i haven't left the state legally since october 16, 2010. that's forever. it seems longer because we'd planned on going out to california last may. but of course i had to PAY ALL THAT MONEY FOR THE SHIT I GOT IN TROUBLE FOR omg the dumbest shit ever AND THE NEXT TIME I GET IN TROUBLE (which will be never) IT WILL BE FOR SOMETHING GOOD. ima steal a plane and land it on a boat and sail to an island, which would be so dumb cuz i shoulda just flown there. i'll think of something better. i'd really like to steal a big cactus, but i don't know how i would get it home- or how i would dig it up- or if you even could dig one up out in the wild. but i do want one- like the kind on the tv they show all the time. a one armed cactus- in a barrel in the front yard. then i could move it to the living room during the winter and watch the grump constantly rub his big balls on it. i am crying again. i have to find a tissue.

stop- drop- and play dead

dear wrong idea diary,

today i woke up in a really good mood. i think some of the THC i used to smoke so much of somehow found a way to release from a fat cell or something because when i watched the wedding before court- i got high. high enough that when i was in court and i turned around and saw the pumpkin at the doorway- i still felt like a princess myself wearing my favorite ugg boots and my CBS necklace. now, nearly 7 hours later, the prince turned into a frog and i realize the significance of the whole ordeal. what i should have done- instead of extending the hand of forgiveness (like the stupid whore i am) i should have bursted into a fit of constitutional rage- throwing myself safely behind the half walls of the jury box to demand an explanation for the circumstance which brought our paths to cross at my court date today, at 8:30, in courtroom one, where you had no business, but i did. thumbing your nose at the justice system just because you have a uniform on makes you look very stupid, even if i am a whore. i just hope the cool judge has lunch with the other dickhead judge who ruled on your lies. i'm sorry if our handshake meant i forgive you, cuz i don't. i hate you like no man i have ever known. i know that now. i do want to thank you though. for letting the judge see you harass ME today. that meant everything to me and this time- i got to tell the lie, (although not under oath like yours,) you really do look like shit.

mulch me

dear i love mulch diary,

spreading mulch is prolly my favorite part of flowering in the beds. it makes it look like a professional did all the work. and its so fucking cheap. i just got my last hanging basket done. fuck me- ima champ. i love my new hanging baskets. i had a really good ass lunch with my dad. i met a little guy who wanted a mickey mouse pancake and nothing else would do. he was so frickin cute- it made me realize how lucky i was to have two kids who were never that picky- but still that cute. ima go wash my car and check out all the thugs at the wash. betcha they're all out today.

HVAC

dear you'll thank me later diary,

if you never decided then you would never choose, and if you never chose, you would never see anything different. everything would be the same all the time. havoc is the game you played here and i did my best to try and keep up. i think i did a great job don't you? it sure didn't take much luck. i find myself at the end of the rope with splinters in my hand, yet eager and hungry to listen to the charms of the music of your band. the sinister ways you have about you, burn through my weakened soul and mortify my saddened heart and should take a deadly toll. but somehow in your eyes, i let that pass by, i smile and run really fast to my car- as not to hear a lie.

slap that dick hopp

dear in a hurry diary,

i hate it when i'm all gung hoe about a post and publish it before i spell check it and forget until i read it later and freak out. i feel stupid. especially when it's an easy word and clearly a typo. i also hate it when i schedule two appointments back to back after a sleepless night and have a layover inbetween the two not quite long enough for a nap. that is what i did today and it sucks ass. i gotta go be a parent at prince harry's school in a bit. i am meeting with the truancy officer because harry seems to be skipping 4th period quite often and this has become a problem. i got a letter and made the appointment. i hate snitching out my kid, but if i don't then who will. i butsted him crossing the road the other day DURING SCHOOL HOURS and knew we indeed had a problem. after my appointment there- if i am not too pissed off, i will take a long nap then. naps help me survive. without them, i would die. i feel like a chicken wing again, prolly because i like chicken wings due to the meat to skin ratio. i think it is important to balance the meat and the skin to get that perfect wing taste you can really only get with a wing. breasts are just so clumpy with meat. the meat is fine over the rib of the breast- but deep on the breast it's so breasty. eww. ima go. i hate dick hopp. he wouldnt shut up today. somebody should have just fucking hit him. i wanted to so bad.

making plans accordingly

dear i can leave the state again diary,

i am not grounded anymore! i can go to morocco, japan, south carolina, indiana, massachusetts, australia, new york, israel, iran, denmark, kentucky, florida, or south dakota. i love that judge. he is so cool. he makes me laugh. i go back early too. he's letting me off early from my conditional discharge. ima bring him a fruit basket when i go back i think- or flowers. can you do that? i really only want to go to california, but it never hurts to just cover all the bases. he gave me a blanket pass- i can just LEAVE the state. my 'boss' in new york will be happy as fuck now. the unibomber is pissed off cuz i came home crying. fucking he has his chest all out and looks like a mad rooster. hey. i really ain't impressed. if i ever get into trouble again i will not go with a jury trial, i understand how a bench trial would have been a much more intimate and personal setting for the facts to surface. things would have been so much different. 

gag the silent bitch (with the dry lips)

dear i know what i am thinking right now diary,

i hate being the dog in the window. in fact, i don't mind being on display- as long as there is sound quality. but being still AND quiet sucks and i have a hard ass time doing it. it is for that reason i am scheduling this blog to publish while i am being restricted from running my mouth and making any sudden movements. this is what i wish i could be SCREAMING VIOLENTLY right now at this very fucking moment, while i stand with my butt cheeks scrunched together and my clean clothes on and, YES I AM WEARING MY FUCKING BOOTS.... here goes, in my tiny little whore brain, ima be standing up in front of the man in black (remember johnny cash is dead) and these words WILL be flying through my head i promise (just wanna make that really fucking clear,) "IMA WHORE IMA WHORE I FUCKED A DUDE WITH A TINY LITTLE DICK AND NOW I AM A WHORE AND I'M IN COURT CUZ IMA WHORE AND I HOPE I TURN AROUND AND SEE CUNTFACE AND IMA STICK MY TONGUE OUT ACROSS MY LIPS TO MOISTEN THEM CUZ IMA WHORE. A NASTY STANKY PUSSY WHORE." and if my swift tongue action gets me in trouble, LIKE SHE TRIED TO GET ME IN BEFORE- SAYING I STUCK MY TONGUE OUT AT HER ON THE STAND WHILE SHE TOLD LIES ABOUT ME- well i am ready for that too- i'm gunna bring my chapstik.

the princess whore

dear i got my panties on diary,

i am so pumped up i can hardly even stand it. i remember feeling the same way when princess diana got married. i recorded it on cnn to watch kate arrive and walk down the isle and then i don't care after that. this little whore princess is going to soak in the porcelain tub this morning and slip into her booted slippers and head off to see her majesty who shall determine her fate once again. maybe he will lock me in the tower for the rest of my days- until i become an old woman with a head of gray- and not a tooth between my lips- what a funny whore i should appear to be then. i do dare say.

prepost jitters

dear goosebumps diary,

now i have gone and done it. i have went to the next level. not only did i sit here and curl my hair, but, i also wrote a post that will, 'come to life' while i am in court tomorrow. ima give birth to it while i am gone. i love those kind. its like cooking a casserole- the kind you make beforehand in the fridge and cook later. i like those cuz it's like someone else made it. the more time that has passed since i've seen it and i forgot what i put in that post and it'll fucking make me laugh my ass off- cuz it'll all be true. i don't lie when i write this shit. what would be the point. i saw the cuntface bitch last night at 5:02pm. she was on her cell phone and driving through a busy intersection and it looked to me like she got new plates on her gas guzzling vehicle. oh the good life. i am so glad our paths do not cross that often anymore- as an insecure careless driver on a cellphone with tinted windows and and obstructed view with her 1980's hairstyle is all tooo scary for me to even think about. ima roll off the chair when i read that fucker that'll be waiting after i get home- my telepathic posting from court. sometimes i wonder who it is i really blog for. maybe i do it for myself as much as i do it for y'all. that'd be fucking weird. a whore writing letters to herself. that's goofy as fuck. some anne frank shit.

extra apple soap

dear stinky armpit diary,

whenever somebody tries to take me under their wing, i always hate it cuz of that smell. the armpit smell. i don't like it that much. only when the sweat is fresh and dripping on me do i like that smell. if i could reach inside- deep inside- i maybe could pull a rabbit out of my hat. it could be a dragon attack. where should we go from here- now that all of the children are throwing up? and why are you waisting my thyme- knowing that shit wont really change the flavor at all. i got new laundry soap cuz i was getting tired of the smell of the same shit i been using for the last TWENTY FUCKING YEARS and i wanted to smell different. i got wisk. i wanted to smell like an egg beater. my grandma used to use it after she forgot what kind she used to use- and so it reminds me of her after she became the new grandma i didn't know. she was still grandma every once in a while though- and always accused me of leaving MY laundry soap there- so she'd send it home with me all the time- and i'd damn near HAVE to take it or she'd chase me down the blacktop driveway with it in her hand. then there'd be a brand new bottle from kennedy's market- sure as shit- the next time i'd come over. poor grandma. fuck that alzheimer's shit. all the apple pies and noodles were fucking great though. oh fuck yes.

search engine suggestions

dear diary,

i am a whore. for the love of the sakes of the pete. i am a whore. there. it'll come up much easier now. i am a whore. your momma's a whore. your daddy is a whore. your greasy greasy grandma is a whore. your next door neighbor is prolly a whore. your dog is a whore and if your husband is the whore i know that he prolly is, that ain't my problem. at all. not this time it ain't. anyway next time you do a google search- try, 'dear diary, and family of whores,' and i am sure you'll get a whole volume of greatest whore hits.

hairballs

dear did you want to make a donation diary,

nobody ever asked me to donate in the first place, usually i swallowed. but i spit in a cup now. i quit savin that shit a long time ago. but at one time- i had a whole freezer stocked full of 'evidence,' if you will. no, i'm just playin, i never saved that shit- i don't even know what made me type such a thing. i'm embarrassed. i am. just a little. it sounded good tho. like something a confident whore would do. shit i wouldn't know what to put the shit in now that we quit having the need for 35mm film containers. that fucked me in so many ways, i used those little fucking containers for everything. but that is the past. my grandma was the little container freak. she had all the little jars with tiny matching lids. i got some of them- but not all of them and for the record, i wouldn't have put that in any of them- or put them in the freezer.

how 'bout that drama

dear no deposit no return diary,

understandably, hand prints on a dirty trunk lid are funny when they are on there just so perfectly, like artwork. i like art. i heard a song i must've heard a thousand times tonight- and i fell in love with it again all over. all over and there ain't a word in it. i really didn't  know it was a song by itself, i thought it was an introduction to song five- but its a song all to itself- a song i can select repeat on- and i did. sometimes i obsess over music- when i find something i like. i am picky about the music i allow in my head. noisy music crowds me and makes me feel sweaty- even when i am not even warm on my skin- and my heart beats fast and under my fingernails will itch. arguably, familiar music makes a person feel at home and welcomed- even in the most hostile of an environment. and guess what else. someone got kicked out of work and IT WASN'T EVEN ME THIS TIME.

meet the new TUB

dear i am so happy now diary,

i cant believe it. the moment has finally arrived. i got my big blue recycle can. i am so happy now ima go down to the basement and get all my laundry shit i been savin, boom chicca boom, and fill that puppy up. wow. i got all kinda of stuff to recycle. what a happy day in the neighborhood. could this blessed day get any better??

it's still cool out

dear that wind and them kids diary,

boy the wind is sure strong and that's prolly why the sun is going in and out of the clouds so much because clouds are curtains in the sky. curtains made of cotton balls sometimes and sometimes black velvet sheets. these fucking school kids got out early today and are walking by my house in droves making my autistic dog go apeshit because he knows they are three hours early and he is very concerned at the schedule change and gangs of brightly colored dressed units of bag carrying tall children roaming the streets at this hour. the sun is clearly in the wrong position for the high volume of pedestrian foot traffic going in that direction and he demands an answer. ahh the curtain has fallen again- the birds are again silent and becky slips out the doggie door to piss. will she bring one of her toys back inside? only time will tail.

it comes and goes (the sun does)

dear damn i got up early diary,

i knew i did it for a reason. i just wish i had taken the time to brush my teeth. the sun shining on the leaves of my pear tree is certainly exceptional today and a brilliant feature presentation to my eyeballs. the leaves look simply gorgeous and almost as clean as if they'd been hand washed or some shit. now if only the window to the door was as equally clean- i'd prolly be blind. i feel bad that i really don't spend any time cleaning the upstairs shower anymore and maria doesn't clean it like she used to either. ever since last october when the tub got installed- i told her in these EXACT words, "maria, fuck that shower," and she has. it got cleaned in november when my dad was here and that's it. i make harry and the unibomber clean it. oh i take that back, once maria did clean it and the very next day i fed the snake her rats in there. omg and sometimes the rats shit when they die- and that was one of the times. and after i got the snake out i got busy and forgot, (i am reliving the joy again now) and there was rat shit in the shower and the unibomber got really mad. the sun has now gone away. i suppose it would be a good time to wash the damned ass window then. fuck it.

i need glue

dear visit with three thousand dollar friends diary,

finding myself at the lawyers office today, relaxing in the same chair i relaxed in before i was found guilty, it somehow felt different. even the view out the window looked different- like a puzzle you'd put together of a small town in the south- but i'd be driving through that puzzle in a few minutes- which doesn't seem possible really- but one of those tiny cars down there was mine. everything looks weird when you're up high looking out a clean glass window. i get kinda hypnotized. it is funny now that all the facts are out on the table- and i am guilty of such a stupid stupid crime- that any charges were even filed in the first place. everyone agrees- even the judge- but they were- i am- it was- and we are again going to court tomorrow. i do expect cuntface to be there. she wouldn't miss this event for anything in the world. i find myself excited.

your day

dear i command you diary,

after reading this posting, you will be entitled to have one exceptionally marvelous day, unless you are cuntface. for i command you to go forth now into your world and smile at every person you meet and breathe in the fresh lovely air deep into your lungs and love the skin you are in. look high into the sky and know the angels of luck and good fortune are shining down upon you today. open the door for someone- say something nice to someone- go out of your way to be kind. for it will come back to you in ways you cannot measure. you will remember today for the rest of your life and always hope for another just like it. relish each moment and anticipate the next and smile as you clean out your closet.

the grumpy grinch

dear ho ho ho diary,

even santa had a hard ass time that day. fucking wrapped a big ass choker chain around his neck and my baby don't even wear a collar. what a mean santa. this was the first and last time the grump got to meet the jolly fella- i found this picture under a box of shit last night and had to share. it makes me laugh because it was so traumatic for everyone. this went out with our Christmas cards- if i am not mistaken- in 2005.

cut your banana (in half)

dear sing a song diary,

i am so glad i am awake today. i am. i want to sing a song by pearl jam. i don't care which one- i like them all. i tracked my package and it is in the state it is supposed to be in (AMAZING) and i'd say i am at a loss for words- but i am not. i'm just about ready to piss myself with excitement- that's all. and then, there is tomorrow. yes, tomorrow. my last appearance in court. everything i was supposed to do is done. i dare say, i am a good little prisoner. now, unless cuntface (SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE AND KIDNEY CUNTFACE) comes to court with another bag of lies, for instance, she could show up and say i have made a nest in a tree by her north side bi-level home she no longer shares with her under-endowed city employee wanna be hero husband- and that i now reside in said tree and continuously blog from that tree day and night- and she is 'mortified' to leave her home- and chances are the states attorney (who prolly banged her husband too) will present this info to the judge- who wont believe it- but will listen- for 13 pages of transcript- just to get a laugh later i suppose. and i will have to sit there and not say ONE word and it is so hard. so hard. but i will. i am. and i do. but i'll just smile and know- that banana ain't even half a banana. oh how i wish i could take credit for that.

naked glory

dear postal tracker diary,

i just checked on my envelope 0310 0480 0003 1871 1748 (tracking number) and it ain't even been updated since it left. them people prolly lost it. once the post office ate my car title- just the VIN number and it cost me $60 bucks to replace. to make it worse, i went down there the day it happened and they said they would pay to replace it, but they never did. and that's fine. that was just another expense last year. i am so happy this year is here and last year has expired. this year has been so fun- i cant believe it's about half done. everyday there is a story- everyday reveals a new glory. sometimes i remember more- sometimes i remember less- sometimes i don't even want to get dressed.

wheeee!

dear midnight rider diary,

are you in a hurry? i'm not. i just learned allot. sometimes it hurts my head to learn. i got to fly again in my dream. i just woke up. the flying began when i was shown how by reading a set of words from a folded piece of paper i was given. i could feel the air moving so fast past my body. wouldn't it be so cool to fly, to feel your feet loose in the sky? i feel that feeling and i am not going to lie- if you haven't felt it yet- you might when you die.

smiling at the evil people dinner in ten minutes

dear it don't matter diary,

my skin is dry, it don't matter. my tracking number for my envelope is out in the car, it don't matter. my hair is tangled, it don't matter. the dogs just got in a huge argument, it don't matter. i had a long talk with prince harry, betcha that wont matter. i feel like a bird in a cage, it don't matter. my hands smell like a dick, it don't matter. i am hungry, it don't matter. i am not happy at the moment, it don't matter. people are not kind to me, i am used to that, it doesn't matter. it is time to get the dick smell off my hands and make matters matter and then eat.

hammer down

dear pissy pants diary,

i have yet to figure out how to reach my kid- other than grabbing him around the neck and squeezing profusely. i kinda wonder if sending him out to my dad in virginia for the summer wouldn't be the wise decision. we have talked about it before, and i know that time out there would really change his outlook on things, as my biological father sees things in a more structured and wholesome ways. i think his time in the air force caused his rigid routines to become part of his lifestyle and it works for them out there. the perfectly manicured yard and always well organized garages and sheds- my dad has total control over all going's on out in virginia. if it comes down to it, don't think i wont do it.  

pretty man hands

dear my fingernails diary,

break one- they all come down- that is the standing rule, but i like my nails shorter so much now that i may never let them get long again. i am serious. there are so many reasons not to. i'll use half the polish, half the polish remover, take less time painting them and prolly have less of a chance at an air bubble or blemish in the paint. i can not stand an imperfect nail. it drives me insane. then there is the functionality of them- oh wow- i cant describe how much easier life really is without these claws hanging off me. honestly, i missed them yesterday for about an hour after it happened- and then all of a sudden- i was like, "YAY!" i have been set free finally- and it feels good. damn good. ima just keep them this normal length till i get the porch painted and the flowers planted and the ants killed and if i have to chop them trees down- till i chop them trees down- and see how it goes from there. cuz it sure is nice having fingers again.

the snoopy tree

dear i useto think diary,

nowadays, i don't spend as much time thinking about things as i once did. i simply type my thoughts here and move on to the next ones. then later- i might come back and re-read what i wrote and think more about it then- but prolly not. this is my newest way of cleansing my brain (brian) of all the useless shit it once held and had to sort through and file. so see, i think this is a way of brain shitting. it really does free my mind and give my extra space to create more complex and structured thoughts- which aren't even thoughts really they are more like paintings or color schemes in my head- and they are simply spectacular folks. i have always known i see the world differently. to try and describe- i will once. you know how an artist can take his pencils and see the landscape and draw what he sees on paper? i look at the landscape- over a sea of people maybe, and i can see into each of their lives. each person is a tree with many branches- and some people are goats. i fall in love easily with the beautiful trees- especially the ones that stand tall with the big branches and pretty leaves, but i always remember- even the dead ones look good in december. 

shackle him & the yippin dog too

dear oh dear diary,

i like the months that begin with the letter 'A' and i like it when the 27 days fall on wednesdays. it makes me want to eat round steak. i made round steak for dinner one august 27th in 2003 and it was the best shit i ever made to this very day. it is funny how the mind works, or my mind anyway, but it is april 27, 2011- not august- but it is a wednesday. so i dunno. it still could mean something. ima make chicken for dinner and fuck everything up. ha. i would never. but it sounded like something i would say. i just woke up to the yipping bitch dog next door- earlier it was a fucking bird that done it- and before that- my wonderful child. my kid has pissed  me off. we are about to go rounds. for real. i'll win. it is a crying shame he did not pull this crap BEFORE i spent all that money on his hair- omg. i suppose he is just waiting to see how nasty his mother can get. um... poor prince harry ain't even begun to see the 'dark side' of his earth mother whore.

dribble down my shrimp dick

dear everybody shrivels up diary,

if it was me, i wouldn't worry about a thing, you'll prolly never see me again anyway. it ain't like i'm ever gunna be famous or some shit. dude there are guys who are worse off- trust me. know what i'm sayin? do not trip. you did not change my life one way or the other- if anything- you made it better in some ways. think about it- no damage to my jaw. that's right. no lock jaw. none of that carpal tunnel will ever be a problem for me- cuz of you. we are good to go man. i'll even throw in a good reference- if you let me out of this right now buddy. i sure will. i might even drunk dial you since you kiss so good and text back so fast. hurry up man- let's make this work. i need to go home and finish what you started.

the search party

dear those were the days diary,

i am missing a young boy about yay high- with a smile so wide. if anyone were to see this young lad- please return him to me- i miss this little child of mine so much you see.

i think i found a peephole

dear desperate diary,

walking into the post office downtown today caused me to have a flashback attack. i, all of a sudden- out of nowhere even- with each step i took forward towards the desk to the waiting woman- seemed to shrink in time and become smaller and smaller and smaller until i was about the age of seven. then i remembered the number of my dad's post office box, clear as a bell i could see the numbers in my head. i decided to go down to his old box after i mailed my envelope. it only took a second to mail my thing- and i stood at dad's old box. he used to send me in with his key all the time and i would feel so important. it seemed so much bigger when i was a kid- but the door still looks so fancy. with each step i took back towards the lady at the counter- who i had to pass once again to leave, i began to gain my years back- something very strange happened to me in the post office today- a trip back in time- i wish it was so easy to remember everything like that. 

when you wake in the morning

dear being helpful diary,

i would like to point out that Karma is an interesting subject to talk about and one of my personal favorites. with that being said, i do believe she has begun her work of justice. in fact, i know she has. given that it was so very important that somehow the wrong be written right again, i am surprised she made me wait this long, but maybe she didn't. maybe she just kept the blood on the lamb. Karma doesn't run around and brag you know, like i would, if i worked along side her. that's why i don't getta know any of the inside workings of how she does it- let alone when she does it- i just getta know, it will be done.

thanks for inviting me

dear just curious diary,

to the best of my knowledge, no children have been in my house, yet i turn the tv on to find it on the disney channel. i don't have the courage to ask the unibomber why, but i am looking at a towel at the foot of his easy chair with a big wet spot in the middle. if hannah montana was on while i was gone whila go- i swear i will puke. i will. i'll check tomorrow's listings and see. i broke a nail this morning- putting on my tennis shoe. that pissed me off- but now that i have filed them all down to a normal length again- i will admit- it is sure a breeze typing. wow. i feel one with the keyboard- it sucked getting my nails stuck under each key as i pecked along and having to strike the key below it to dislodge my nail. i can itch my ears better too, but i sure cant pick my nose. the grump is in serious trouble. he stormed the storm door and knocked the cactus over. the unibomber decided to let a fly out. so the grump is in time out. and the unibomber is locked out. and the cactus got repotted. now, that the salisbury steaks are made, ima take a nap and prepare myself for the evening. after i check the disney channel schedule for tomorrow and put this dirty towel down the clothes chute. eww.

salted stocking hat

dear temperature change diary,

how cold does it need to be? i woke up in my shorty shorts and practically froze trying to find pants. i quit lookin and got the blanket instead. i gotta go downtown and mail this fat envelope that will prolly end up costing me thirty seven dollars to mail. if i wasn't so proud of it i would keep the bitch- but it is way to good to stay here. i slept like a rock last night. i love it when i do that. it wont change anything today- but it was sure nice to zonk out all night. maria said she'd be here to clean my house around noon. that'll be a great time to sneak out and go eat fajitas. i need meat inbetween my teeth and some sweet salsa. the other day i saw some lady putting SALT in her salsa and it gave me the willies. why would anyone salt their salsa? i dunno but that salisbury steak will be so good for supper. i haven't made that for a minute either. well- my dear readers... it is off to the post office. i am nervous. i'll be sure to post the tracking number so we can all watch it arrive.

mercy street

dear highya guys diary,

i need to move my cow over here from my dad's house- i'm to lazy i suppose. my bathtub video turned out really good- all 53 seconds of it or whatever. now i can mail my envelope off today. any normal person would have all but given up hope, but you cant go around doing that and besides- i ain't even close to normal- i hope anyways- and if i am- well i am doing something wrong AS FUCK AGAIN. but i sealed the deal. the envelope is ready. i am sending it off. i don't care what happens- i did my part- there ain't no turning back now. i am done. ima get up early- go to the post office. drop the bitch off and come home and make salisbury steak and listen to peter gabriel's salisbury hill and in your eyes on my ipod for three and a half hours straight. the unibomber thinks he is so funny. maybe he would be to someone who was deaf and blind- but he isn't to me tonight. i feel like i want to slam him with a hard pineapple. there is one on the counter i would love to swing at him- but i'd rather eat it. ima eat it now and cut him by accident with the sharp knife ima use to core it with. ahh. there's an idea worth thinking about.

ilya rubber duckie

dear if i sit here long enough diary,

maybe i will lay an egg. i doubt it, but it could happen. it could be all golden and shit too, and worth a buttload of money- millions even- i could squeeze one out that big. i am telling you- for certain i could. i am so glad the snake got to eat today- that is really all that mattered to me. tomorrow's goal- to let maria in and mail an envelope and eat mexican food. if i fill up the bed with flowers- an added bonus. it's a safe day tomorrow. i can do whatever i want. i may spend the whole day outside naming all of my new blades of zoysia grass coming up. i do love my two patches. i will go now- and rest in my warm tub. rub a dub- hope my egg don't come out in the tub.

whore+saw=dead ants

dear having a fun day diary,

i still think two hundred and thirty some odd dollars is way to much for a cable bill- and paying that once a month is a BLAST. ringing up at almost twice the power bill, it does suck and hurt- especially when there is nothing on tv- ever. i would shut it off- but then what would i watch? and i have to be able to watch it when i am awake- so i gotta have the dvr thing- in every room. i dunno. they sure have a way of stickin it to you. but you gotta have hbo and showtime. gawd. now ima have to buy ant dope tomorrow for the mailbox again because when i got the cable bill out of it today, before i paid it, there was 81,423 ants crawling all over it and on the inside of my mailbox- which kinda sits out in the trees. you know what that means. they are five days late. last year they'd moved in and i had orkin out here on 4/20 sprayin for the little bitches. well, here's the deal. i ain't playin with them dumb fuckers ever again. i know where they live now and don't think i wont cut them FUCKING trees down where they CONGREGATE. everyone of them trees will come down and i am not kidding. fuck the ant covered cable bill.

autographs for ebaY

dear well ain't that nice diary,

i feel like doing something besides nothing, but nothing is something- never forget that, so why i want to do something more is beyond me, but i do- but i ain't, because that'll take a bunch of work and honestly- that ain't what i feel like doing at this point- work- i'm just sayin. though a bath would be about the best thing- and a mudmask on my face- oh man. maybe a leg shave- a hair treatment- an opium iv drip. i wonder if they make those? sign me up. i need to find my all my shorts this week- i packed them away last winter. i must have packed them away real good because they are packed and i haven't even seen them. i love wearing shorts with my boots all the time- people stare and i stick my tongue out at them- or i say "boo, look at you," or some shit like that- or i get my sharpie marker out and ask if they want an autograph.

the theory

dear sweat whore retarded bitch diary,

you're comin' home to me. just take that old sweat hog off the shelf- or sit and whack off to it by yourself. i ain't got time to get on my knees to blow- unless you're one of those guys who is ready to go. i am really good at what i do- no need to take off your shoes- i'll clean up after myself- you just sit back and enjoy yourself. let me tell you bout this girl i know- she'd jumpt at the chance right here for sho- i'd prolly have to fight her off- by the looks of this here mean stiff rod. she would start right down about here... and you know- men would claim to feel it in their big toe- course i am sure that was a big fat show- but i guess you never do know. then she'd move around over here... some men said that made them feel queer, they'd whisper later in my ear, but they like it so much- that anal tongue thrust. then when it was time to lick her way to the top- nine of ten times- them boys would pop and her job would end and shedda made herself a new best friend. cuz that's how it's done. did you know her?

pendulum swangin

dear you can not sit here and tell me diary,

i looked at the clock whila go and it scared the shit out of me- i thought i lost time. how did it get to be six thirty nine at night? well i dunno and i don't care but have you heard about the lonesome loser? beaten by the queen of hearts everytime? when the lights go down in the city- i want to be in my bed looking pretty. i don't necessarily need to be in the city by the bay either- i like lake water- i like dirt and grass and trees better. the quietness of the windy field. i don't like the ocean i promise- the salt- yuck. the garbage birds- eww. i like cows and cowshit. ima country buff. i kinda don't even like to vacation there- but i would to be closer to you. i like the dark rain. it's spooky. it makes the sunshine so much brighter. contrast. i like that. cobblestone streets fascinate me. and plants on the side of the buildings and moss on the trees. i think that's neeto frito. ima nap now. tired of being awake again. time to play my hand.

rusty not crusty

dear re-evaluation diary,

my trip home from the rat store has caused me cause for alarm- in a sense. it's like this. mmmm kay. either really old crusty men look at me- or young boys are drooling over me and i dunno, what am i doing wrong here. i am not trying to 'send the signal' to either one. what's up with this? i can almost get the old men on the count of my t-shirt smell the other day- but that was ONE shirt. ok- there was the other shirt too that kinda stunk like head so maybe TWO SHIRTS TOPS. i think it's cuz my kid lived in them for a whole week once- i dunno. i don't care- that is behind me now- they've soaked in tide. the young boys thing- they all like me cuz i'm so 'cool,' and they wish i was THEIR mom. i'm not so cool when i sleep 16 of 24 hours in a day now am i? be quiet- i'm sleeping. i do prefer men older, if i had to fill out a questionnaire, and wiser, and calmer and collected and respected. someone whom i could trust and lust and just look after. someone to never ignore- someone to be their favorite whore. i don't want to be whistled at like a bird anymore. 

on the other hand

dear that is all you get bitch diary,

the snake ate her rat. she wants another one real bad and i told her to drink some water. she ain't gettin another one today- she's getting ready to shed again anyway and she is late- she hasn't shed since the super moon. i think everything shed then. the birds at ken's went apeshit when i walked in today. they all started whistling at me. i, of course, whistled back and did my best to speak their language- which made ken laugh. he said the birds really liked me. but he said they like, "blondes," and i said, "oh, is that what it is?" and he said, yeah, you didn't hear them squawking and carrying on at the other lady did you?" and i thought back a second and said, "well no, i suppose not." i went on to tell him i used to be a bird in my other life- and the life before that- how i was prolly a dog- cuz i always bark at them. then i was gunna tell him how i want to be a bird again in my next life- or a lesbian- but it seemed like a good time to go- so i left. then on the way home some guy in a stupid looking dumb colored car- fuck i cant even tell you what kind it was it was THAT dumb- whistled at me. he was fucking old AND had a stocking cap on AND looked like a child molester AND made me want to run my car into a tree. that is EXACTLY why i want to be a lesbian in my next life.

all growed up

dear better him than me diary,

fucking i just got the hiccups again. it doesn't seem like i can go a day without getting them bitches. i used to get them when i was pregnant allot. prince william used to get them when he was inside of me too- omg it was so cute when we would both have them at the same time. i would hiccup and then my big round belly would jump. i loved being pregnant. it's a wonder i didn't have 20 kids. if you would have told me eighteen years ago today how things would be turning out- gosh- ida prolly kissed you- thanked you and just cried with relief. it is so scary looking down at a beautiful baby and wondering what he will be in eighteen years. but now that i know- i did a good job- i mean i really did a good job- all the heartache and hassles and bullshit and the final product is a kind, gentle, honorable, trustworthy man- i did that. i am so proud of my tiny little baby boy- who only weighed 6 pounds 7 ounces and shit his pants and wet the bed and called all the 900 sex line numbers. LMAO  

ken opens at ten

dear on my way now diary,

i find myself this morning at the beck and call to the snake- who has patiently waited for a rat to fall from the sky. she keeps looking at me as i pass her hole- sticking her head out abruptly as if to strike at any moving object. i hate it when she thinks she is that hungry too- cuz she'll be all fidgety when i get her out and that makes me nervous. i've already been bit tho- so i know her at her worst- which ain't shit- but thinking about it sucks- i ain't gunna lie. she is 58 inches long and fatter than a rolling pin- so- she looks like she could do more than she does. ima get her the biggest rat they have today at ken's meat market. she better quit looking at me like i'm the food then.

wake up little suzY

dear oh boy oh boy diary,

look what has went and happened now. it is april 25th already- which means it is almost may again which means omfg we are fast approaching the half point of the year and it don't even seem like the year should have even started yet. you know, time goes slower tho when you gotta go to court every two weeks- which is what i did last year- fuck that sucked- but it was fun. what sucked was getting up early all the time- that's what sucked. i gotta get some flowers and fill my bed up. i need one more hanging plant and i'm done with those. i love to visit with my flowers when i wake up. it makes me very happy to see them every morning. when i take naps all day, i have mornings all day. i could have a morning now- but i haven't been to sleep yet.

a bob cat or shop vac

dear what's he doing in my world diary,

the time will come when things you know now will be different. are you prepared for that? how do you know when the change starts to happen? sometimes it is so creepy still and sneaky when the change begins you cant tell until it's done. i hate when that happens. the greatest wisdom comes in the wake of gigantic mistakes we make. maybe i didn't love you quite as often as i should have. i had to clean up the mess. and now i got the shit all over my shirt. i need to tell you, if you're only as sick as your secrets. i am one healthy bitch because i don't hide shit. i like it that way. even my fingernails are stronger. lean forward and feel the sunshine hit your face next time the kitty walks by the window. i'll be the one pulling the curtain to get an extra hour of sleep.

mouth to mouth

dear earthlings diary,

my spacecraft has arrived. my people have finally made it to earth and not a post to soon. i have to leave here now, but they said i could possibly come home later tonight- after the carnival to be held in my honor. i am to work the kissing booth. i will not brush my teeth because that is what my people men prefer. i will come back a very rich retarded whore, but i will not be human anymore. i will fuck like an alien forever.

no anthrax pussy

dear 1000 leagues under the whore diary,

i thought about a nap. turkey always makes me tired, but i don't need an excuse. y'all know that shit. i really need a bath tho- i can wait till four something. i don't need need a bath- ima take one tho- i need one. i took a bath with a cat last night- one jumped in my water in my dream- and you know i can honestly say i have never had that happen before. and if there is anyone wondering- i fucking HATE cats- even pictures of them make me sneeze- i am bad allergic. cats and penicillin and sulfa drugs and cipro are the only things i'm really allergic to- besides i used to get hay fever- but i think i grew out of that when i started smoking weed. oh man- ragweeds and fall pollens used to fuck me up- but not so much anymore. thank goodness becky ain't a cat and all marijuana ain't ragweed. i cant wait to smoke pot again.

post 999 right on time

dear tally post counter diary,

my original post topic was to be how damn good dinner was, but then i realized this was my 999th post and i threw all intentions to the wind. fuck that delicious turkey. i'll prolly cook another one just like it next month on my birthday- so it really ain't that special. but 999 posts since january 18th- that is a friggin miracle. i am certifiably batshit. is there such a thing as over-posting? this is a free country- or last i heard it still was, for MOST of us it's posta be- but i've learned over the last fourteen months that if you carry a badge- you are 'free-er' than most. not only are you, (the badge holder) 'free-er,' but your cuntface wife and her offspring by another non-badge holding man is as well. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE AND A SPECIAL HOLIDAY CUNTFACE WISH TO YOU AND KIDNEY CUNTFACE. i really need to cuntrol myself- i have now spit all over my couch- little pieces of turkey- from laughing my ass off. i must retire now to the bathtub to relieve myself. please enjoy post 999 as much as i have writing it. for fucks sake.

bloody red meat

dear a morning like this diary,

i used to get OFF on looking for eggs. my mom always did a ferocious job at hiding them too. the only thing i didn't like about finding them fuckers is having to eat them hard boiled bitches because no matter what you do to them- i still hate them. and she never would let us decorate the raw eggs- no matter how careful i promised to be. i still hate boiled eggs. ick. prolly cuz i get egg burps- not from eggs- but i just get them once in a while- when i eat a cream filled donut on the road- that'll do it, or if i go to bed super full on red meat- that will do it too. but i love red meat. man do i ever. it would suck to be a vegetarian. i couldn't do it. maybe for a day or a week in the summer when the sweet corn and tomatoes are done- but not in february, march, april, may, june, and january- and december, when there ain't shit to eat. what would a person eat those months? it is a question that i have often wondered. and what about shoes? would a true vegetarian wear leather shoes? i am glad i was raised meaty. my mom couldn't fry chicken- but my grandma sure made up for that shit. now i can fry a chicken- but i never could boil an egg worth a shit. but when i did boil an egg to hide them for my kids- we threw them fuckers OUT after they found them and ate the candy eggs. i'm sorry mom. i'm sorry to all the starving kids in bangladesh. i hate boiled eggs and my kids don't like them either.

i love you guys

dear honey bunny diary,

happy easter y'all. the turkey is cookin now. i guess i'd planned for company when i picked out the big bird because it is huge. it is a darn good thing i didn't hit snooze on the alarm or it woulda had to have cooked all day. ima go back to bed here after i do you guys again, but doing you comes first- as always. i look forward to reaching into all y'alls lives everyday. it makes me think i am doing something important. i don't do shit here in mine- anymore, (duh) so dipping into yours is fun. i just wish i knew what i was doing with you out there. but it is safer this way- prolly- and cheaper- and i don't shave my legs all the time like i should- and i am not the most exciting person because i like to sleep all the time- so it is prolly best i plan my own african safari and burgle my own neighborhood houses for a new bed. and then there is becky. omg becky. when i do go to morocco tho- ima have to take her- or i cant go- just sayin. well i have my ideas about what you guys do- just from some of the emails and comments- but my imagination does run wild. thanks for having me as your whore this easter sunday. if you want some turkey- just stop by.

'i can't help it baby'

dear dogs that snore diary,

the grump is the one who is rude in this house. the first night i finally shut up and what happens? he snores. (which technically i do not think fits the definition of rude, but whatever) AND HERE IS THE KICKER- he slept in the livingroom. i sat up twice trying to figure out what on earth that horrible sound was- and it was the grump. he had the snores bad last night. sometimes it is worse than others. he's doing it again now. it almost sounds like an asthma attack. you can throw something at him- but when it is like this bad- he will start right back up. his breathing seems so labored. i dunno. he'll be nine this year- and he has been doing it his whole life- i always assumed it was just the way he sleeps. the vet said there's nothing wrong with him- but damn. he needs a sleep study or something. his neck ain't even fat like the hero's was and i guess he had a bad problem snoring- but fuck if i knew. i only knew about the premature ejaculation and lying. 

women who shave

dear women on tv diary,

why is it that all women on the tv lately look like they have mustaches? is it just me? i hope it is. it seems like there are dark shaded areas above the lips of all humans- men or women. i think it must be my eyeballs or someone has fucked with the tv again. even on the commercials- it's cracking me up. i like to draw mustaches on women in magazines at the doctor's office. yup, i am the one who does that. i also draw the pubic hairs coming out of underwear and bikinis too. i'll fucking destroy a magazine at the hospital and be rolling the whole time i am doing it. then i'll go put it back in a busy area just to watch someone read it. the payoff. once i peeled off a security sticker and flipped it in this lady's purse so when she left the store the alarm sounded and security stopped her and searched her stuff. that was many years ago, but it was funny. that lady was salty mad. she had a mustache is the only reason i did it.