extra butter- no salt

dear our story begins here diary,

sometimes i think it is hardest at night. i mean, it is hard in the morning too, but really it it the hardest at night. when it is dark out and you cant see shit and you shut your eyes and then you can see everything because your mind has no light switch- you know what i mean? i know you do, but if you don't- just forget it. you ain't gunna get it. but if you did get it, and you know what i mean- your mind never goes dark because there is always a light on inside there because there is always a movie playin inside your head. once i got to leave my theatre and watch a movie and i couldn't believe what i saw. i got to see me. the separation between church and state is about as close to how i can describe it. when you see your name in the opening credits- be excited, don't become alarmed, it the closing credits you have to worry about. you really gotta kinda wonder about things when you see your name rolling by in those. the end.

humpty dumpty had a great grill

dear nuts are a fabulous food diary,

while driving down an undisclosed road and looking for water on the road, i did stumble upon a brand new gas grill that had apparently took an unfortunate tumble off someone's truck. i stopped to rescue the stainless steel grill which begged to come home with me and so after careful consideration and a quick disassemble i packed her in the trunk and back seat and brought her home and introduced her to the whole fam. she's a nice son of a bitch with a burner on the side and all that nonsense. i ate an ice cream cone and watched the unibomber put her back together again.



missed the water- found humpty



amazing psycho envelope pusher

dear some people wait to exhale dairy,

while some hold their breath and wait to let it out, i am the one sweating to take another. not literally of course, i certainly don't have any problems breathing, except after some personally initiated rough play, all day, kinky sex- i suppose it doesn't hurt to remember the good old days. i just wait now to see if the air is safe, wouldn't want to PISS ANYONE OFF. i try and breath the least amount of air as possible. little shallow shifts of air passing rapidly through my lungs in a way that hopefully no one will notice i am even alive. that is until i need to spring into action and just fucking go into some psychotic rage about the smallest of detail- that is always fun and sometimes the highlight of my entire day. it never ceases to amaze me how far i can actually push that envelope when given the opportunity. today sudden onset, the positioning of the new bags of dogfood. seventy three bucks is what i paid for the shit and they toss it around like it cost ten fifty. walking on it, spilling shit on it- oh yeah- i snapped in two. someone should have filled up the container and put the rest of the bag downstairs where it goes. instead- we toss it around and make a bridge out of it- even get the dogs to walk on it. i ain't doing it- ima girl AND i bought it AND i gotta get a rat for the snake- for pete's sake.

tied up hands

dear bound and tied diary,

i will be shackled,
i will be bound,
i may be tied to the ground.
but you will not hold me.

i may be chained,
i may be tied,
i may be forever condemned to cry,
but you will not be the one who lies to me.

i may bring to others joy,
i may be another's toy,
there are still many i will annoy,
but my smile will never be directed towards you.

i once gave you my heart,
but you tore it apart,
i thought for a moment i could forgive you.
til i saw in your eyes,
you ARE that guy,
and i really do....
need to hate you.

but never more than cuntface.
(sigh of relief)

turn around ants

dear i just worked in the yard again diary,

we have fucking ants. they are planning an invasion. they are on a mission. i ain't stupid, i have seen this whole deal before. oh when the ants are marching in. oh when the ants are marching in. i ain't playing with them ants. i already told you. why do you think the ants hang out at my house anyway? prolly something the unibomber has done. i just noticed i've chipped my brand new paint job on my nails. a shatter to an almost tragic day. fuck. good thing they weren't perfect or ida had to have SNAPPED.

whora minnesota

dear i am a real live retard diary,

sometimes i wish i didn't know myself so i could meet myself and exploit me. i would make a ton of money off my dumbass. omfg. i could see it now. prolly the best way would be a movie or a short tv series- because too much of me over a long period of time and people would start killing themselves. yeah. no hannah montana here. i cant even sing- but they do have autotune these days. i dunno tho, actually, you never do know. i am so versatile too. i am sure i can do things other retards only wish they could do. if i had it all to do over again, i'd prolly do it all the same- only cuz i'd have to. but it wouldn't be so bad- considering all the retarded shit i've already done. i might just sell a few t-shirts along the way to fund further retarded projects. i might maybe could have been someone before now, and maybe even skipped bein a whore. huh cuntface? SHOUT OUT! 

walk it off

dear i swear diary,

sitting indian style on the couch really shuts off circulation to my legs after about three hours. but i ain't gettin up until i have to pee or unless the house catches on fire or i think my plants need watered. i will move my legs in a little bit and just sit a different way maybe, or not. my jade tree looks sick as fuck this year and i feel awful about that, but how many times does it need to fall over on the ground head first? i remember prince william falling out of the cart at lowe's head first once, i'm sure glad he didn't turn out looking like that. i hope it will pop out of it, my tree, it'll take years to grow another that big. i already have one started. i just moved my foot and now i have to wait for it to thaw out. omg the pain. this blogging can get to be serious work you guys.

when it was happy

cross your fart

dear well i don't know either diary,

but i do know this. that would depend on all the various variables. you have the ups and you have the downs. then there are the sides to consider and the diagonals. everyone always forgets the diagonals. i think it is important to mention those because without those- you'd lose extra support- if you were supporting something. next time you see a picnic table, just pay mindful attention of how it is made. i did once. i've applied that learned philosophy to many areas of my life and i think that is why i still stand today. i think that is why my boys are strong men in their lives. i think that is why i have raised only the finest animals. if you have a solid top and the ups and the downs and the sides and the diagonals- you're in there.  

published afterall

dear we got a new phonebook today diary,

i used to get so excited when the new phonebooks would come. i always looked my name up first to see if it was in there and it always is because i am one of those dumb people who still feel like they have to have a home phone and you know the stupid thing about it? there ain't a phone plugged in anywhere in my house. ain't that dumb? you don't have to answer because i already know it is. so you're prolly thinking now, well, 'shut the bitch off then,' but i can not do it. when prince harry was in 4th grade- i'd just hooked up with the pervert HERO- it makes me SICK when i see it like that since prince harry is now in HIGH SCHOOL, nevertheless- he had this little friend ashlyn who would NOT stop calling our house- DAY AND NIGHT- and it was driving me INSANE. i called the phone company and changed our number. the lady put me on hold at the phone company- i didn't ask for any special number, and when she came back on the line she was ready to give me my new randomly assigned computer generated number. the number she gave me was my grandparent's old phone number that they'd had since prefixes were assigned. i was speechless. now, even though i don't use my home phone- i will forever have that number and it forwards to my cell. so when grandma or grandpa come back- or when they call home from Heaven- someone they know will at least answer. it'd be really cool to buy their house when it comes up for sale again and move the phone number AND the stove back in. then grandma would know where to cook her noodles.

nuttin honey

dear tweedle dee dee diary,

i am up again. what does that mean for you? NOTHING. but i am up. with red fingernails- which are close to perfect- but not quite. what a glorious day we have here today. i am serious. fucking i dunno what to do first, so ima do what i do best- what i love to do the most- NOTHING. i am so good at it too. nobody does it better than me, i bet. not going to kentucky didn't piss me off much- all i had to do was think about sitting in the car next to the unibomber for 5 hours and that was just to get there. then we'd have to come home after that, another 5 there, plus he can never park, find anywhere to eat, or just go anywhere without it being a full blown ordeal- NOTHING is simple when you travel with the unibomber. he gets so pissed off too. i'm not like that. if i miss a turn- i will flip a bitch before i drive an hour and a half. i also do not, "know a better way," because i know NOTHING about the town i have never been to and i am not ashamed to admit that. i drove to denver once to pick him up, just me and my dog marty, SHOUT OUT TO MARTY IN HEAVEN BUT NO SHOUT OUT TO CUNTFACE YET TODAY, and i never got lost once until the unibomber got in the car and marty even jumped out the window (twice) and ran off)  just sayin.

a different planet JANET

dear where i go diary,

getting inside is a different matter. there is no fence. there is no mountain. mother nature is not cruel to people who come. nobody watches. this is not area 51. i have very few secrets in my closet, but there are a few skeletons that loom there. you are not invited, however, to inventory my closet. when i have company in my closet, it is not by choice- someone has weaseled their way in while i had my guard down- while i was disarmed. i think much about the improvements i must make to assure this fate never happens again. there is no fence, ah, but there should be. a fence with an electric top- to warn all who try to come over. there is no mountain, but if there were- the evil would die of hunger and thirst before reaching the goodness of my filling heart. mother mature would surly shine her grace upon those who invade before letting love start.

breast stroke

dear what was the first clue diary,

when someone you talk to everyday starts repeating the same stories over and over, you kinda gotta wonder if they know if who they are even talking to. the hero used to do that CONSTANTLY and when he started doing that shit- i started paying less and less attention and then whenever i did talk to him he would do that shit more and more and more. in one ear and out the other it would go, a swift roll of the eyeballs back in my head, OR, a simple ignore all together of the silent ringing electronic device.... i lost interest pretty fast once i realized i wasn't the front page news. i had a breast stroke. i pity any whore who finds herself leftovers. not surprisingly, there never was enough weenie to go around. beggars prolly cant choose that much, and they prolly getta choose more now. poor cuntface. she'll stilll get the leftovers. SHOUT OUT!

freestyle

dear exactly what it was like diary,

messy. a little strange. a failure of imagination. there is a psychological term for that. the only difference between fiction and reality is- fiction has to be credible- believable. fucking mark twain even knew that shit. but turns out he knew quite a bit, didn't he? it is not about winning or losing, it is about tasting blood in your mouth. please spit in the cup if you cant get to the garbage dumpster. how lucid are you right now? i am awake too- i think. if i'm not then we are fucking again and i liked it.

battle of the onion

dear destroy all that you came with diary,

i blasted my headache with tylenol- it wants to fight back- but i have been pushing hard with my laughter and snide remarks which i will not repeat here. i just ate some porkloin roast that was so fucking good- you wouldn't believe it if i told you. incredible achievement, to know how others will react to the news of it all- of which i do not. sympathizers may have thought tourists would flock to see a distraught whore on her knees and i will hate to disappoint them. no matter what happens from now on, everyone will think that the saltier the tear- the deeper the wound for which caused the pain- but that's not true, i just cut an onion.

explaining in sign language (flipping the bird)

dear getting it right diary,

how unlikely would it be to look outside your door and find me sitting there. pretty unlikely, but it could happen if you are unprotected. there are so many people in my town and the surrounding areas that are unprotected, fuck, i dunno where i would go sit first. sometimes i wish i liked to run. i don't like to run because i always run out of breath and sweat. i am a sweater. if i ever get crammed into a cave that has no water- all i have to do is two or three sit ups or masturbate while thinking about steven baldwin and my body will instantly produce a glass of water that will bead off my forehead and drip into any waiting collection container. i would never dehydrate. the upcoming anniversary of my birth reminds me- i need to make the appointment for my boob job before i chicken out.

slim fast

dear you're the only person i know diary,

how can we pass through the same doorway and miss each other? it's because you're so skinny. you're a super model. janice dickerson- ima celebrity- i wanna stay. i feel bad for ole rod blago. i always was a fan of that hair. i think that once a jury finds that they cant find you one way or another- guilty or not- well- fuckit- if it ain't a life or death matter- throw the shit out. time is a precious gift. people take that for granted more than they should. i've given time away from my life like it was nothing- like it meant but shit to me. i do so very much regret that i didn't make some of those people earn that time i gave- or at least charge them a moderate fee, but at least i learned. i wont do it again. i need that money.

high profile

dear tylenol for supper diary,

 i drank a neck full of tylenol when i opened up my eyes because my head was pounding and i know better than to think it will stop on by itself. headaches are the only way the body has to scream. tylenol muffles those screams. i don't get headaches like i used to when i lived that other life. i don't miss living that other live either. it was a lot of extra work being a whore. i spent the day today with prince william. we had mexican food and got dog food and took the grump and becky for a walk. becky doesn't need her leash and asked me to carry her for a minute, which i did, and then i took her lead off and she made all my dreams come true. i've always wanted a dog that would walk without being restrained. she must have went to some type of training school in the few weeks she was alive before i got her. i bet even before her eyes opened she was the smartest learner in the class. or maybe it's because i never exposed her to the fucking hero creep city employee. he told me once he saw her when he drove by- but he never once got to touch her. at least i spared her from that. i got becky on the 9th day of the 9th month of the 9th year. anyone see a need for a restraining order? do some math.

first picture of becky

walking along... singing a song

dear as happy as can be diary,



gettin lunch money?
prolly not



no pins or balls

dear swimming pool diary,

i don't think i would have that much use for a swimming pool in my house. if i did i would want a salty one. but i dunno why anyone would put a swimming pool in their home before a jacuzzi or a hot tub or even a plain ole bath tub. i hate plastic bath tubs too, by the way. i cant take a bath in a plastic bath tub- i have decided. i no longer drink from plastic either. i will not eat from plastic (except utensils, i don't mind a fork or when i eat at KFC- those new little coleslaw tubs are cool as fuck and i saved mine to reuse- it washed good in the dishwasher) the house next door to my longway grandma's- it had a bowling alley in it. the 'mob' supposedly owned that house. i never saw anything of a mobster or the like, but i did see the bowling alley after the state seized the property and my couzins and i broke in the house. there was nothing in the house, not even a chair. even the big clawfoot bathtubs were gone.

ANOTHER message

dear out my window today diary,

looking outside i can see across the street to the roof on my neighbors house, but on this day it looks funny. the sun is shining straight down through the tree and the shadows from the leaves are mapped out on their shingles and i dunno if it's cuz i'm up at this time of the day or what, but i ain't never seen it look like that. in fact, their yard  looks really green and shit too. that is the house where that bird lives- the one that yells at me all the time. they put a "NO TRESPASSING" sign up in their front window now and i hadn't even gone over there YET to look at my new friend- the bird. that kindof pissed me off. all this time i been talking to their fucking bird from across the street (it yelled at me first) and now they slap a sign in their window. you know, i thought to myself after i saw the fucking sign, "WHY NOT JUST SERVE ME WITH COURT PAPERS." fucking creeps.

wine stains on the carpet

dear blog of interest diary,

i am sure this post will interest no one except me. after all, technically i am the only one i started out blogging for anyway, so i'll prolly get off on it again someday. that stupid bird started chirping at 5:09 this morning. i know it was the same bird too, because i recognized its chirp. that mother fucker. then i woke up at 6:40, like i have for the last fucking six and a half years, and then again at 7:14 when my alarm rang to get prince harry up for school. i think mornings prolly are the hardest part of the day for me- the time when my heart and my mind are in conflict the most. on top of that and dealing with the premises of some of my fading dreams of the night before- some of which don't seem to want to fade, it can be a treacherous beginning to a frightful day. but over the past year and a half, i must say, it has gotten much easier. the sudden onset of hate has helped. the three singing and dancing chicken lamps in my dream were very symbolic to me last night- and the drunken man who owned them- equally as symbolic. i would have never expected the blue rooster lamp to come to life and swing around and almost peck me in the eye- especially singing as loudly as it was, and if i ever got the chance to buy a lamp that looked even remotely close to what that table lamp or any of the others looked like in my dream, believe me- i would.

hey dawg damn

dear cheerleader of foolishness diary,

finally, words that perfectly describe myself. i am happiest when i'm laughing. i think most people prolly are, but i am even happy when you're laughing at me. and i don't even give two shits if i understand why you're laughing- i might figure it out later. i don't like watching stand up comedy on tv. it pisses me the fuck off. i'd say on a slow night about thirty percent of my material will float up in some way or another and it hurts as a writer- to see any part of something you've written appear in another performers set. omg. pour salt down my bleeding neck. i realize there are only so many words in our written language, but the shit that happens to me- only happens to me and if the same things have happened to you- well- we need to bond. for real.

driving while intexticated

POUNCE GROUP ON A THYME THERE TWAS A FEMALE OWL HOOTING AT YOU AT YOU. MONKEY DICK. DON'T WORRY HER HEAD SPUN OFF. DEAR DIARY. NO TITLE. WTF.

one last shuffle

dear kicking my feet diary,

thinking back over all the old diary's- i have never had a kicking my feet diary. i have swung and punched, bitten, swatted, mutilated, licked, sucked, and drooled diaries- but kicking my feet, that one is a first. it must come with the confidence of having ten thousand SEVENTY stawkers. omfg. i am worried, and becoming more worried by the passing minutes, that people will begin to figure out who i am. then fuck everyone will know i am a whore, AND DAMNED PROUD OF IT. it became obvious to me when cuntface was pulling out of my work parking lot when she stalked me that cool march evening ten days before she turned 45. oh fuck i take that back, it was in court two weeks later, when the judge said it was okay for her to stalk me. i am sure that will be a funny scene on the silver screen. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE

i'll be gone in a day or three

dear days left diary,

if there were nine days left and eight of them had already passed, i'll bet you'd spend that last whole day lyin about what you would do if there was only one day left. time keeps on ticking, unplug your ears if you cant hear it. i just drank the best glass of tea i ever drank in my life, except the one i had in the chinese garden that hot day in LA when i was so thirsty and it quenched me so. that really was nice, but tea from styrofoam reminds me of the chicken dinner i will not be attending for the 2nd year in a row- due to my failure to keep up to date an organized. ima blame it on my age this year because there is no legal issues distracting me again- so that is not a legitimate excuse like last year. ima love working tonite. there aren't any of my regular people here hardly. only just a few. and i can take on them- if they can take on me.

jet city woman

dear forgetting diary,

there is no way i will ever forget this day ever as long as i live. i can remember other may 5th's, but this one runs off with the cake. ima go get a cake, or maybe make some pecan bars. fuck i dunno how i want to mark the occasion, but something must be done. it ain't everyday something like this happens to a whore. i cant remember the last time i felt so fucking special. except maybe last friday when the king hero tiny dick came creepin where he shouldnta been. i wish i could tell CUNTFACE how her husband crawled back to his favorite whore. SHOUTOUT CUNTFACE, but what do you bet she doesn't already know. not having contact is so much better when you have TEN THOUSAND party contact anymfway. yahoo.

smoke from my brain vent

dear upside your head diary,

omfg i am exfuckingcited now. i never saw it happening today. i never thought it was gunna happen. but it could. it is- what am i talking about. ima have ten thousand stawkers today and i hope i am online to see it. ima prolly shit my pants when it happens. i prolly will. i just hope my head don't swell all up and get big and stupid like some people's heads do when they accomplish something. i mean don't get me wrong, i feel like a billy bad ass, but i ain't like gunna get a t-shirt or nothing. ten thousand. i was happy when i got to five thousand, i remember thinking, 'you ain't shit til you get to five thousand,' and that was just a little over a month ago. you guys are comin on here faster than i put miles on my car- and it has 255,738 on it and i got it 2/24/2000. there's a math problem to figure out for some genius. i'll be waiting on the answer. remember, i got the blog 1/18/2011 and just say there's 10,000 miles on it. will my blog have more miles on it than my car does when my blog reaches the age of my car? IMA MAKE A DUMB WHORE GUESS AND SAY YUP- PROLLY!

sinko duh mayo

dear condiment diary,

of all the things people slop on their food, sandwiches in particular, mayonnaise has got to be the best invention. i do not like miracle whip when used as mayonnaise, let us spread that out on the table now. i used to when i was a kid- but only on bologna. i cant even stomach bologna now. barf. not even on the freshest of bread with even the thickest of a layer of potato chips smashed between the meat and the bread- nothing helps me swallow bologna. i simply can no longer do it. now, when it comes to making salads, i keep miracle whip light here in my fridge because if it wasn't in the salad- you could tell it was missing. sometimes i use half and half (half whip half mayo in the salads). hellmans is the best mayonnaise around. i think it had a different taste when it came in the glass jar, but what can you do. a bit of advice though, when i eat out, and a sandwich comes with mayo on it- i make them leave the mayo off. i do this for two reasons. one, you don't know what BRAND of mayonnaise they use, and two, you could get sick and die if the shit has been sitting out all day- mayonnaise is nasty.

the glimpse

dear favorite day diary,

today is supposed to be my favorite day of the week and it still is, but the funeral is today and i am having such a hard time with all that. i guess growing up in an older family prepared me for loss at an early age, which is prolly a good thing too, considering the monumental loss of my own mother at the tender age of thirteen, but even still, with all the practice in the world- you never get used to losing people who you care about- because they are all different- they are all special. in fact, i believe now that when a person dies you are close to, a part of who you are dies with them. i didn't know that when i was a child- but i see it now. sometimes i hear a voice or see a face that will take me back- but i never get to stay.

big and small

dear thick orange juice diary,

something about thick orange juice ain't right. i mean- it should be thicker than water, yes, but should it be thick like gravy? i think not. i don't like it with all that stringy shit in it. i dunno, the idea of flossing my teeth after drinking juice doesn't sit right in my head. i love orange juice fresh squeezed too. the first thing i buy when i get to california to the farmers market is a big thing (half a gallon) of fresh juice and a small thing of it (pint). the bigger thing i take to the hotel and the small thing i chug rite on the spot. if i was rich- i'd fly out there just to drink orange juice, get my favorite pop and come home. fuck disneyland- fuck cbs and venice beach- fuck pch 1- i don't wanna go to sunset strip- fuck ellen- fuck my aunt evelyn- i just came for the orange juice and soda pop. 

cyber lunch date

dear in preparation for the celebration diary,

i was thinking that it ain't going to hurt to go ahead and get ready to have our pre-party preparation  ceremony celebration  for when my stawker head count turns over. we will begin with a cyber picnic to be held today at noon. the menu will be the following:

• fried chicken
• baked beans
• potato wedges
• potato salad
• watermelon
• pineapple
• wine
• hi-c orange pouches
• cupcakes (chocolate duh)

please bring your own plate settings and blankets- wine glasses will be provided and blunts are always welcomed.

U-turn

dear one of us lonely diary,

it ain't me. i have a zit in my ear keeping me company today good buddy. don't stop thinking about tomorrow- soon the zit will be gone that's in my ear. it doesn't look like ima hit 10K stawkers by may 5th like i'd hoped i would, but it'll be may 6th then so OH WHALE. ima day late and a dollar short. anyone surprised besides me? i wouldn't think so. single file line please. a five digit stawker head count. omfg. me. this. on here. since january18th. fuck. me. in the ass even. dry. all day. i find myself thinking of my readers throughout the day. i often wonder who you guys are, what you are doing. what you eat. what you are wearing when you read my shit. are you at home or in a car or at work. is my page working better since i took all the stupid shit off of it? the judge shortened my sentence- the countdown was no longer correct to the 'electric chair' and the 'whore jams' were dumb. i wish i knew more about what you guys want- it's always so much about me me me- let us imagine a you you you....

copycat

dear zeroxing the papers diary,

it never hurts to have two (or more) copies of important papers and documents. i learned that the hard way when i lost something very important to me. i hate to be a smartass about it, but having two copies of a cool drawing is fucking bad ass as well. sometimes when i doodle a sweet little doodle- i'll zerox that bitch and stick it up in several different spaces around my place so i can enjoy it at random times throughout the day. oh man, especially in the car on the rearview mirror. i am not an artist, so when i do draw something cute- it's really good. i can draw a fine toucan bird and a penis and balls and half a christmas tree and i make cool arrows and an awesome cowboy boot, but that's all i can draw.

kicking the duck

dear right about that diary,

if things were going well, you wouldn't have done what you did. i came to that conclusion on my own. now, linking that to any further information remains to be found later. arguing in my sleep with the same people over and over does no good when i am the only one working through the issues in my subconscious- while i am sleeping. i can not instruct anyone on how to feel or what process to use to arrive at their own opinions, but if you were counting on my emotional display to sway you- forget it- not this time. what you got was a happy little smile- good buddy- old pal. strange, but we're not strangers. there is no love, there is no danger. absolutely certain the ship sailed on, i am so thankful to have crossed the bridge before it was drawn.

the almanac

dear there is a place diary,

ima go to the giant chicken dinner this weekend. i go every year- with the exception of last year when i fucking forgot. i had all that bullshit on my mind and totally blew it. i remembered the DAY AFTER IT WAS OVER. i was so fucking mad- i cried. i ain't missed it EVER since i found out about it. i usually buy at least two t-shirts and raffle tickets and a bunch of shit at the bake sale and a couple of dinners to take home. i usually end up spending about fifty bucks. i dunno why, but i always do. it's for the ursuline academy in springfield. the cole slaw is so flippin good. it goes on for two or three days- i cant remember- i'll have to check. one year we went twice. one year, it snowed all on my windshield- the first weekend of MAY- the news called it 'hail.'

heeebie jeeebies

dear meet me in the hallway diary,

if you were a hard up scumbag who would fuck anything that walked, wouldn't you be in pussyville Heaven to work in a place where all the nasty bitches in the town came to sell their blood? omg you'd get CREAM OF THE CROP. especially if you could drag them right across the street to your house- give them an extra twenty bucks to suck your dick for five minutes and send 'em on their way out the door. selling my plasma- giving a fast blowjob to the dude that poked me... fuck i'd do that twice a week too. eww. those lucky girls. it'd take longer to fill out the papers than do the blowjob. that has to be the job of a lifetime for somebody somewhere. i'm just sayin. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. 

gainfully employed

dear baby baby fallin in love diary,

shocking at the limit of terrifying others, i stood before them with my mouth hanging open and i'm not sure anyone was willing to admit how impressive the size of my whole mouth is when it is all the way ready to accommodate, but that isn't what i am supposed to be posting about now. she told me that, "I WAS OUT OF LINE," and quite frankly, i think she was the one who could use a little tweaking. i wont be the one you'll hear complain about sticking shit up my ass or anyone else's ass, because i don't do that kind of shit anymore. i must have sat and listened to her anal inquiries for over an hour before i finally broke. this woman was definitely going through an ass phase- and we've all had them at one time or another in our lives. the dirty little shameful time we'd just as soon forget about. thank goodness mine was short lived (and not at all painful thanks to my hero) but finally, even as strong minded as i am, even i couldn't hack it any longer. "do you mind?" i turned around and said to the ass talking lady. she assumed i wanted IN on the conversation, "you know what i am talking about don't you?" i just looked right at her and said with a really straight face, "no, all my customers are still into the pussy sex," i still wonder what was so OUT OF LINE about that.

exhale

dear sour diesel train gang diary,

after you read this post, there is a definite chance someone will assume that indeed, i have again- went and gotten myself stuck in the face of stupidity again, and i most certainly did. i really did. but you must know that it has been so long and i paint a picture with my little words and i think of you and if this is a crime lock me away- when love WENT bad it made me see- i remember- like i remember now- and it feels so good. it's a one time thing- a special strain. and when my little treat is gone- well then the memories i shall spawn- when i would never go sell my blood like the real whores do.

what is a dildo?

dear does it vibrate diary,

if it doesn't then what would be the point? who needs anymore salami shoved up their slot? i really am starving at this point in time. i want something like tapioca pudding and chicken strips. does that not sound like a dream? oh wow. the agenda today consists of next to nothing. a bath, a visit with my flowers, a walk with the dog, a nap, seriously, nothing i couldn't do any other day. i just want to enjoy the sunshine and time with my old carpet and think about the differences between a dildo and a vibrator. i know there are more than the obvious. there has to be.

jolly time popcorn

dear frosty the snow cone man diary,

i dreamed it got down to 21degrees last night and if it did- well- i am so fucked. but i don't wanna talk about that. i still haven't eaten shit since i was hungry and my arm is looking more like a piece of bacon by the second. i should have got some damned ass grapefruit. i found out yesterday that my brother had another baby a couple of weeks ago. my friend who i NEVER hardly talk to told me she saw it on facebook. so i text his ex-wife who confirmed and told me the baby's sex and name- and now i get to call my dad and give him the good news. humm. what is wrong with this picture? TONS. i think i will do that right now. brb. daddy wasn't surprised. he said, "those things will happen." i got more of a reaction out of him when i mentioned prince william's state of affairs. things are changing fast. i am ready, but i don't think anyone else is.

ride 'em cowboy

dear ima do it again diary,

i have to. i know i prolly should just say, 'well i gave it my best shot,' and be like enough is enough, but when have i ever done that? when? have you ever known me to toss in the towel? even if you don't know me at all- know this, I DON'T FUCKING GIVE UP. i'll beat a dead horse- and beat it and beat it and beat it some more. i think that is one of the top ten things i like most about me at the end of the day. i mean it gets on my nerves during the day sometimes- while i am beating on the horse and people are watching me with their eyes rolled back in their heads. but then when the horse gets up and i am riding it around town- the same horse that was dead ten minutes ago- that i was so busy BEATING ON- well- now THAT is a feeling i cant explain to you or anyone else. ima saddle up and swing again.

milky way

dear i am hungry but i cant eat now diary,

for some reason my armpits are sticky. i wouldn't mind this but they keep sticking to me. i feel like a sandwich now, but if i stay up for another couple of hours, you guessed it, i can go to mcdonalds. i am feeling freaky already today. sometimes i wish i was a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit, because then when i got hungry i could just take a bite out of my arm. then at least my armpits would have a reason to be sticky- i eat pancake syrup on my bacon, egg and cheese biscuit. i admit to having weird quirks about my foods and or- how i eat them. i always pick the sesame seeds off the top of a bun. i heard once they can make you test positive for marijuana on a drug screen. i wouldn't want that, plus, they bother me, plus i don't like the skin on the bread- and even when there aren't sesame seeds on the top bun, i pick off all the brown- except where i hold the burger- and then if i end up eating that part- i will pick off the top of that piece too- before it goes in my mouth. i eat a big mac about twice a year and i have a special way of eating it. i almost got into trouble once eating it my 'special way.' i always take the top bun off and flip the middle bun over because three buns is just stupid on a big mac. on this day- on the highway- i threw the top bun out the window and i'll be a son of a bitch if that fucker didn't land on a state police officer's marked patrol car windshield. the cherries came on and i pulled over and met a not so amused officer- at first- but something about that bun struck him funny after a minute and finally we parted ways. i am hungry now, i could eat a cow- or an ice cream cone. 

strange fetish

dear stop licking her ear diary,

looking back like i hate to do, but always find myself doing, i realize it hurts my neck more now than it did when i was younger. she licks her paw, he licks her ear, she loves the way that feels. she lets him finish- but that feeling wont diminish- no- not for a minute or two. when someone eats out your ear- omg- you can feel it clear to your toes. i certainly wish oral sex felt like that- i'd want that all the time- you'd better know. but moving back to what my dog is doing- making her head all wet- that is what is concerning me so much- making me very upset. i have asked him to stop several times now, but he keeps holding her down, ima bust him upside his big head pretty quick- if he don't stop licking her head like a mound.

turnabout FAIR PLAY

dear keeping the score about even diary,

napping today sucked donkey dick. the second the tornado sirens quit- FUCK FUCK FUCK- and all three heroes came to collect my shit at the curb- FUCK FUCK FUCK- and the mailman came- FUCK FUCK FUCK- well i figured it was safe to go lay down and finally get some dag gum sleep. WHOA NOT SO FAST FUCK FUCK FUCK. the grump had other ideas. he let me get to sleep and then he started to bark. but he didn't bother to get up and bark. he just decided to lay there and bark. that just burned my ass. it woke me up. he went right back to sleep, but i couldn't. so i let him get back to snoring again. i let him really get into his rhythm. then i made my move. i got up very quietly- like a ghost and i got right in his ear and i started BARKING. I BARKED AND I BARKED AND I BARKED. he jumped up all startled and had this glazed and dazed look in his eyes. i'm prolly lucky he didn't bite me. but he deserved it. that fucker.

vomiting shortly

dear now guess what the unibomber has gone and done diary,

i am not sure that this information should be released to the general public, but ima do it. please do not go and tell others, i trust it will remain here- between you and i, and our secret website. it prolly wont be any big secret to you fans of the unibomber, as i am sure he has a precious few, there are always a couple in the bunch who follow his doings, but this latest has to be the greatest yet. i  JUST busted him WASHING HIS SWEATY BALL CAP IN THE DISHWASHER AMONGST OUR DISHES THAT WE EAT UPON. yes dear readers, the very dishes we eat our dinner on. needless to say, the dishes are re-washing again now. OMFG. i snapped my purple bra strap in disbelief. i am still in utter and complete shock. i may boil and bake the dishes in the oven or fire them in the kiln when they get done. i haven't decided yet. i wonder if he's washed his shoes or undershorts in the dishwasher too. ima throw up now. tyvm.

cosmopolitan

dear once in a lifetime diary,

as the days go by, today in particular, i do realize that this will be one less day in my event log. my book is getting thinner. everyone's book is. sometimes someone comes along and checks out your book before the pages are all missing- that's when you know your book was a good book. the ones on the shelf that are just the covers- with no pages in between- i kinda feel bad for those books still left up on the shelf. i mean, i am glad they still are available to at least look at, but when you get so low on pages like that- even no pages- what is the use of being a book. even worse- the books that have been turned, unwillingly, into soft covered magazines. some might refer to them as vegetables- but they are not, they too are still able to be read, they just cannot be shelved in the same manner as us books. they are glossy paged readers that could again someday turn back into a book- if someone stupid and careless doesn't come along and rip out the pages and stuff them in a pocket to take home. magazines are usually sacked and sometimes fanned for decoration. i hope to never become a magazine, unless it is the kind jammed inside a weapon. then i would be sure to get cocky and malfunction so i could save someone from becoming a magazine or having their book checked out.

a breed of hero (uniformed)

dear things in life you never expect diary,

it is tuesday again. one would normally expect to follow after monday. tuesday is the day it is hard as fuck to sleep around my house. there is so much traffic in my neighborhood today. first the man in the recycle garbage truck will get here. then pretty soon the man driving the yard waste garbage truck will come by. then just about the time a dumb whore would get back to sleep- well- here will come the man in the loudest and clunkiest truck of all... the mother ship. the grump wont bark at any of them, he doesn't mind at all when they steal our garbage and shit- oh but let the mailman leave a letter in the box- BY GAWD. i told you guys he was autistic- and i meant it. the mailman will happen between ten and eleven- another listed rude awakening. then maria will arrive to clean my house, unless she comes tomorrow again, but i think she is coming today. i am having her clean the fridge. i've never had three garbage men at my house in one day before. that could be interesting, almost like a uniform party. do garbage men have badges? as well they should. they are heroes too.

days going by

dear let the water pull me down diary,

sometimes i think drowning really would be the easiest way to go- if i were to jump off the ship of life here. but i haven't caught a fish yet. some days i feel very uncomfortable in my own home, a time when i would turn to my special friend. i deal alone now with my issues and go through many tissues, but i know with all of my resources, i will have faith to go forward. i wont be jumping ship- and in no way i am giving up on this trip. i will go to kentucky and see the horses and make a bet on one. i'm usually pretty good at betting on things. i think i'll get a hotel with a jacuzzi and take becky. it'll prolly be a madhouse and full everywhere and if it is- then i'll drive back- but i would like to stay. maybe if i book now i'll have a better chance- but it's prolly late anyway. ima goin- and becky is too- she's never been to kentucky like the grump has. i kinda like this life, not being a wife, but i miss having a hand to hold. but it sure ain't worth it when you find yourself a jerk that cant keep one true word.

that used to be me

dear i took the test diary,

after every set of questions there was a point system to rate what your answers were and i scored very high and i thought that would be very good. not so fast. while i am smart as a whippersnapper, (according to the test- if you ask me i am still dumb as fuck) but i found out i hold on to emotional connections- just because my scores were high- and that sure surprised me. maybe i do that to some degree and that is why i stawk and creep around in the bushes around the corners sometimes. but i don't hold grudges like it says i do, only against that one person; female, caucasian, over-processed hair, dob 3/23/65 aka CUNTFACE. i think you can really tell a persons' true feelings when you catch them off guard. i don't think i would stick an open hand and welcome smile out to that evil cuntface bitch on any spur of the moment. fuck those little magazine personality tests anyway. i should have looked at the key to see how i should have answered.

the day planner

dear kentucky derby diary,

now i wanta go bad. so bad. real damn bad. i hate horse events. i just want to go cuz it's out of state. it's only 250 miles and i wanna go just to go. so i decided ima go. ima go. plus i got the perfect hat to wear. ima take the whore by the whorns and get the fuck out of dodge. i am the kind of girl that needs a destination before i can set out and go somewhere. i think anyway. to be honest- i have never planned that kind of trip before- the plan-less one. rolling around to somewhere unknown could lead me to the same place doing the impromptu things i did following the guidance of my heart, to jail, to the feet of two judges, to the arms of the jury, to the fate of the wrong and unjust destiny. so from now on i shall plan, and pack, accordingly. what has it about this place that keeps me coming back to the days to the time where i had to chase the image far from the plan of my everyday. i never planned for that.

hand sanitizer

dear duties which transform me diary,

i wish i know what made him do that. you gotta admit, it prolly wasn't the smartest move in the game of chess we are playing here. for a few seconds i admit- i was flooded with feelings i thought were long gone. then i decided it was closure i was supposed to gain from it. then i deemed it blatant harassment. and now i am back to the original question again. what the fuck was that gesture? a taunt? a nanny nanny boo boo? you think he just wanted to stick my head in doodoo? the man i saw and shook hands with friday- wasn't the friend i knew back in the day. that person is dead and gone away and looking in those cold eyes it is truly a shame. i cant miss you forever.

shall we prey

dear i have knees and needs diary,

i love my old purple bra. i found it in my old dresser drawer downstairs and washed it and i have been wearing that bitch all day. i am so glad i kept it. old things are not always garbage. sometimes when you think about old dressers, typically you wouldn't think they would be stuffed with old purple bras like mine was. well, actually there was only one purple bra in the top drawer, but there was a pastel green lace one- which always made me itch and is practically brand new because i couldn't wear it, and there was a black and pink one i practically wore out thinking it was the sexiest thing ever under this see-thru shirt and i have no idea where that shirt went (thankfully) but the bra lives on. i think a bath is what i need. then i may give my boobs a treat and encase them in the purple bra again and go get something to eat and watch house.

this time

dear here we go diary,

i don't have any idea why that is really, but i wish i did. as well, i wish i hadn't of eaten that sausage because as i burp the taste of it comes back and it is not the most pleasant. thinking of a baby coming into our lives again, i don't know, really wasn't what i had in mind for the immediate future, but now that the plan is the plan, i can do that. shit i got room on the walls for another two hundred baby pictures easy. we already have a crib with a brand new mattress that the plastic hasn't been taken off of yet. i dunno where the grump will sleep, prolly under the crib, but he loves babies. i'd only hoped to have my own life straight- but then i said that eighteen years ago before i had my own babies. a grandchild, a child who will adore me more than his mother, (they always do) a child who will cling to me and love me like no other. finally, someone to share becky with. i know i am supposed to be mad, but, i'm not. i miss my little babies. i will not take for granted my time with them- this time around. i wont.  

dancing queens

dear listening in my ear for a text message diary,

ima goofball and like to remind myself everyday. in ever case of the time i will try and convince myself otherwise- it is a way to keep myself in 'check.' whatever, it works for me and here was my latest reminder. i'll NEVER admit to this happening though- if we should ever meet in person, so, print this and see if you can get me to claim to be the author of this blog. do it. go ahead. i triple dog dare you. even you CUNTFACE. (shout out) so anyways, here is what i did, i sent a text and put my phone UP TO MY EAR and waited for a response. it is gone- my brain. it is official. i am a dork with a comprised brain system. oh and i was right. the snake shed her skin last night. i'll update this post later with a picture of her skin hanging- it is funny as fuck. it looks like a staged murder scene. i know she must feel better in her new skin. i wonder how snakes receive messages from their friends. the wonder never ends.

place and time

dear listen before you leap diary,

i hate taking advice. especially since i paid for that advice. but i am sure the judge did alright not seeing another whore today anyway. he prolly saw enough without seeing a true to life dressed up one. i went on with my day in my street clothes, a very pretty whore i might add- and smelling good too. my lawyer suggested he would take care of things in a different manner, so i slipped back quietly in to my favorite place... the bed. i hate waiting. i hate surprises. i hate waiting for a surprise. i woke up prettier than i went to sleep and then things got ugly. momentarily conditions improved, when i watched the borgias and just as soon as it ended- it was back to life- back to reality.

hostile head for sail (float)

dear slamming the door diary,

why would you slam the door and knock all my bottles off the shelf AND THEN OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR BACK UP TO SEE WHAT YOU KNOCKED OFF? i hate hostile people. i really do. it is a butt fucking shame that hostile mother fuckers don't just spontaneously combust. i wish they would. then i came home with five tomato plants the other day right? somehow the little sticks got pulled out that identify what kind of tomatoes they are, but they are all still tomatoes. the unibomber comes inside and asks me, "are all those the same kind of tomato plants? they all came in the same kind of container." why would anyone buy five of the same kind of tomatoes? i like all different kinds. some are meaty- some are juicy- some are sweeter- i dunno- i just like all kinds of different ones. hostile. that is where it comes from, stupidity- and the asking of dumb questions. in china, i heard people can live in fish tanks filled with water after their heads have been severed from their bodies. the head floats around and people throw what is equivalent to live brine shrimp in the water for the head to eat. it is a novelty and a public spectacle that visitors come for miles around to view. i would suggest hostile people here in the USA be perfect candidates for such a feature attraction. i have a hostile head here in my humble home to hand over.

happy birthday

dear getting my present early diary,

everybody knows that i depend on dreams to guide me through my wake life. the dream i had telling me about this- i had sometime ago. it seems this year for me will bring much change. i know everything happens for a reason. the winds have shifted and i am so thankful in ways some wouldn't think to imagine- but i seem to dwell on the unimaginable. my father who raised me with all the love that he had- even after my mother closed her eyes and went to Heaven, will now have the honor and chance to greet his great grandchild that my son has made. what a miracle. to see that child in my father's arms will mean everything to me- it will as close as anyone can get that child to my mother.

gutter mouth

dear my mouth diary,

my mouth smells like dogshit. it really does. it stinks like i got a fresh laid turd and stretched it out across the plate and served it to myself- steamy hot with a garlic roll. it is even worse when i lick my finger and smell it and don't ask me why i did that. i bet if i didn't brush my mouth before court the judge would keel over. my eye is even twitching from the stench. ima do something about this horrible smell. 

to my favorite mommy

dear peeking around the corner diary,

i am finally back where i was a year ago, not just financially, but fucking emotionally and physically. i am better off financially than i was a year ago, and i think i am really back where i was emotionally in about early 2005, except- i am wiser and maybe a bit more bitter in some ways. let me put it this way, i've had a taste of the world since 2005 and i didn't much like it. i cant say that though, cuz some of it was cool. i just found myself lying and cheating and being so good at it. it rotted my center core like tooth decay. then i woke up one day and said, "WTF?" and i quit lying. i quit cheating. AND ABOUT A YEAR LATER- I WENT TO JAIL. how bout that shit. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE.

hot child at the courthouse

dear lookin hard diary,

deciding to do it wasn't hard, once the idea got there. actually it makes perfect sense. but then things that make sense to me don't always make sense to others. that is what scares me about it all. with something as wildly significant as this, wouldn't i be an idiot not to bring it up? i think so. a high hoe, it's back to court ima go, to make sure the judge took judicial notice of the witness who was in the courtroom waiting for me friday. i know he did because he kept looking over my shoulder as he was talking to me, but i want him to make a judicial record of it in my file- that the witness who is scared of me- the WITNESS WHO I 'HARASSED ON COURTHOUSE PROPERTY' HARASSED ME ON COURTHOUSE PROPERTY AND MADE BODILY CONTACT ON SURVEILLANCE- AND HELD THE DOOR OPEN FOR ME TO LEAVE THE COURTROOM, and that is a DIRECT VIOLATION of the NO CONTACT ORDER- if nothing ELSE. he just couldn't leave well enough alone. the same way he did july 15, 2010, when he came to my other court date. it just keeps getting better.

may day operation

dear display the body diary,

i think that osama bin laden's body should be rolled across america in a glass window rail train car for the whole country to view his naked body. i would go look at it. then i think it should be burned. but i think it is important that everyone who wants to see his remains be able to see them. betcha this will boost obama's ratings for a while. may day may day. i just hope he is still dead tomorrow. i do feel safer for us as a whole, but i will feel safer as one when my own terrorists rest. he and SHE, respectively, they, do not have to be hunted down and killed, but a medically induced coma would work for me man. nobody would miss that cuntface or tiny dick. trust me.

NO SHOES PLEASE

nature vs nurture

dear usually when i scream diary,

i have made it clear how i feel about plants, i love them. i got a bunch of new little fuckers today. it makes me squirm and get wet panties when i re-pot them and get them all moved into their new homes and yummy dirt that will supply the food and nutrients that will encourage growth to please my ever needy yearn for beautiful foliage around me. fuck i love plants and flowers. i have two green thumbs. contrary to popular belief, they are not hereditary. i watched my mom and so they are learned. like the behaviors concerning the matters of the heart and body. they too, are learned as well.  

table for two

dear claws on my head diary,

you know that i hate cats and the stress it would cause me to have one stuck to my head. so now imagine all the expanded and elevated nature of this experience in a dream, plus the fact that NOBODY, (even the owner of the cat) would not help me remove the cat from my head because of all my HAIR, so i started carefully walking to the vet to have the animal sedated. even in my dreams I CAN COME UP WITH A SOLUTION. but what i cant figure out is why i didn't drive. i woke up several times in distress- so finally i got up and went and took my bath. with my clothes on, my hair washed and combed and teeth brushed already- it feels like i have somewhere to go. i may have to find somewhere.

william street

dear new week new month new fucking way of life diary,

as i was saying a few hundred posts ago, it seems like my lips are always dry and my chapstick is always in the other room and i have to pee and it looked like her whole head had been sliced off if you asked me, but nobody did, i'm just sayin- so i dunno if that was a scar or a shadow or just dirt around her neck like that, but that certainly was gawd awful and something to look at fresh on a saturday night- i will give it to you there. i drove by the house yesterday where we lived when lady diana got killed in that tunnel in august 1997 and the people who live there now was eyeballin me sittin out on the porch. i was thinking later on, we moved in that house SEVENTEEN YEARS ago today it was. the house looks like shit now. it was so beautiful back then, love poured from every wall and window, door and crack. both boys took their first steps there- lost some of their teeth there- we all got chicken pox there (even me) and i dunno- grew and learned there. i am glad we ain't there. ANYTHING WITH A WILLIAM IN IT PROLLY SUCKS.

dream house