cranapple spritz

dear waking up for the forth time today diary,

jimmy johns is the bomb. i love how fast they come when i call them. today, it was 12 minutes. i hate subway. sometimes i forget to breathe when i swallow and prolly the reason for my hiccups. lay it on the line. i also just love lettuce on a sandwich- as long as it is cold. hot sandwichs are stupid with lettuce, as are salads with hot meat atop them- i still have yet to figure out the concept on that. i am not a big fan of wilted lettuce. but you start putting little cold chunks of meat on beds of lettuce and it's a whole new ball game. the grump just positioned his butthole on my leg. he likes the way it feels there. i don't. it disturbs me. it is so hot and weird when he violates me this way.

pork fried blogger post

dear notification diary,

i have what they call a "high content blog" and that is why some of my posts ain't back up yet. well, BOMBSHELL, i got all of them except, BAD COMPANY, and there might be a couple more i don't have that i cant remember, but i liked that one because it was about the shooting star and my fingernails and coldplay and the stone temple pilots and the interstate love song. if it comes back- it comes back. if it don't- it dont. all i want is another piece of cake with ice cream this time. hail to the yes. if they do repost them though you guys and there are duplicates, i'll need to take care of that. i don't want people thinking i have totally lost my mind. brb ima get cake. oh man. if i had it all to do over again, i'd have a kid in every month- just for the cakes. ima eat green beans for dinner. what a balanced meal. i took the night off from work, even tho i didn't have to, i did because it is a safe day. those are the days i used to work overtime, and now, i take those days off to mull around freely and exercise my right to be free again. my next safe day will be on the full moon, tuesday, and ima get all my hairs cut on my head and prolly take maria out for chinese food. it looks really funny taking a mexican to a chinese food place- i think- but she loves to go and i love to hear her order. she tried to use two hands for her chopsticks and i almost sprung out of our booth with laughter. it looked like she was using miniature fishing poles to shove food in her mouth. maria will shit when she sees how clean the kitchen floor is. she will laugh when she finds out why.

go ahead and die now

dear new topic of lotion diary,

sometimes i get bored with what i am tawking about and i'm like, FUCKING TURN THE CHANNEL WHORE- before i do. i used to think that as long as my plant had roots- it would never die. i don't think that's the case anymore. i've had my hoya plant now since may 27, 2000. when i got it- it was a cutting with NO roots- a five inch stem in the soil. it took nine long years for the little stem to become this beautiful plant. and today it is not in the best shape. i neglected it this winter. i hope that it pops out of the depression i put it in, but somehow my root theory doesn't seem plausible anymore, considering the shape of the bare stems and the yellowing leaves. the only reason i yet hang on to hope is because of the few new budding leaves i dare see growing, a sign that there may be life remaining in there somewhere, but i don't get my hopes up too high- not for the old plant anyway. (see the small red pot in the right side of the photo with the chopsticks sticking out of it? that is the new eight inch cutting i took a few years back that ought to start growing ANYDAY now.) that is why you should ALWAYS have two of what you love MOST so when one dies from NEGLECT or ABUSE you have another one JUST LIKE IT to NEGLECT and ABUSE. 

barefoot & bbq eggburps

dear pappy's smokehouse diary,

ever since i wrote that post earlier about those dumb ribs, that's all i can think about is sucking the meat off pappy's ribs. a few years ago the unibomber gave me a choice. he said we could either go to the grand canyon or pappy's smokehouse for my birthday. i am so spoiled, we went to pappy's on the way TO the grand canyon. it sucked tho, i ended up with eggburps on the plane, and then heartburn when we landed, but it was good as hail. i survived and won some money in vegas, and ate at pappy's again on the way home. i told you i am spoiled. he says there is, 'nothing worse than a mother fucking whiny ass crybaby,' and i say there is nothing worse than a, 'dumb ass rude piece of walking dog shit,' so i suppose that's why i usually get my way. hey, if the shoe fits bitch- you will wear it- or risk running nails in your feet. so now that i have slept ALL day, i feel like the same person i was before, just not tired. what a great way to feel- awake. i wish i could feel this way more like other people do- like longer. ima start a new post. i am done with this one.

bedfellows

dear that was some good nappin diary,

i love becky. she slept with me- with her right paw up under her head like my left arm was. we stared at each other and took turns surprising each other with mini kisses until one of us quit and fell out- i think she got the last one- i ain't sure. at one point, her left arm covered her eyes across the bridge of her nose- so i couldn't tell iffin she was peeking at me or not, so i asked her in a soft voice, "are you playin peek-a-boo with me?" and she kissed at me with her face still covered. i fell in love again. she has a way of doing that, making me fall in love with her 600 times a day and usually 559 of them are in the bed. i have never had a more gentle dog. i prolly never will either. i know i don't even want one- how could i?

my favorite lyrics (twisted)

dear i am doing alright diary,

but in order to do better, i must rest now. i know i just woke up, but i am afraid of what i will do if i stay awake and cant go crazy on you. last night i saw a set of steep metal stairs in my dream, i opened the door and almost fell down them it seemed- trying to run after you. i know that it's time for a cool change. it's kindof a special feeling when you're out on the sea alone- staring at the full moon like a lover. if there is one thing in my life that is missing, i do know what it is not. the cool change of time has brought everything that you could not. the crazy that i feel for you- has now drowned in the oceans of blue.

self taught

dear what a day diary,

i woke up just now thinking it was sunday until i saw we had mail in the box. i ran out to get it- no checks. no checks? i checked again. no checks. fuck that mailbox anyway. i miss working for 914, or rather, i miss his checks. i do kinda miss the work, i do, but that last one was more that i bargained for. i don't know about re-writing shit that has already been written. i wouldn't want to base my whole life around it, it'd be like having a love affair with a married man. you always know how it will turn out- so what is the point. my nails have already grown out again. two weeks i had relief from the long cat claws. i figured as short as i had them filed down to- it would take them a month or better to grow back after i broke one putting on my tennis shoe like a lazy fat fucker. i didn't even getta go bowling. i untie and tie my shoes now though, another powerful lesson i learned myself.

ttyl then gawd

dear cold eyes and tired hands diary,

you would think it would be the other way around, and it is, but i thought i would switch it up just to see what that would look like and it made sense- so i left it. but when i got up it was stuffy in here so i opened up both windows as far as they would go and now i realize that was dumb. but ima go back to bed anyway because- you guessed it- my eyeballs ain't up yet- oh what an upset- and honestly i am about hypnotized with the repetition of my eyes drifting back and forth in my head. it is a cruel place here, and love would make it easier, kindness would make it more pleasant, trust would make it more tolerable, and laughter more fun, but writing to you keeps me alive inside- and remembering my journey and everything and more that it took to make me become a whore- well that is what i live for- but usually only when i am awake- for fucks sake.

morton's salt

dear it always rains every year on this date diary,

all my friends had babies today and every year they all have huge parties complete with the big blow up jumper toy thing for the kids to play on and shit and do you know every fucking year it rains? every fucking year. my one friends spent over a hundred bucks on JUST the ribs (lol had to laugh sorry) and look at it outside. so just think, a big wet jumper toy and a shitload of ribs- that is a party every two year old will love. and now it is cold out. that is wrong on every level. i hate the weather- it never complies. i was going to go this year. i kinda don't think anyone will miss me anyway... if they do... i am sure they'll file the necessary COURT PAPERS.

dude looked like a dentist

dear everybody needs a little time away diary,

that's what SHE said. i suppose everybody knows that BLOGGER was down for 20 some odd hours and ate up posts and everything else, comments and shit- i dunno about these things. it really pissed me off, but at the same time i got two new followers on twatter. so whatever. the whole twitter thing is really strange to me- i admit to just barely catching on. i don't like it very much, but after this latest catastrophe with blogger, i got my first real practical use for it- for real. it was cool to have somewhere to bitch at- and actually feel like you were getting answers- #blogger. i am just glad to have the fucker back on and i cant believe 261 people came through here with no whore to lead them around. for fucks sake. anyway, the shit seems like it is working now and i made a fuck load of money while you guys was gone and i got a new shirt and some dishwasher soap and a new thermostat and some buns and my finger is stiff as a board from the snake bite and purple. so i dunno. oh and i made the best steak fajitas ever IN MY BUTTFUCKING LIFE EVER and that was around ten- and i flossed my teeth and i am ready for bed just as soon as i go start the washer cuz i would like to wear my new shirt on sunday or maybe even tomorrow if i up and decide to leave the house but i might not, but it is a safe day- so i can. i aint scared- i woulda anyway- i seen the little bitchass on grand street today looking like an old fagggity fatass. yeehaw. and the train kept a rollin ALL night long. in fact, you could smell his neck a mile away.

carabinieri

dear it is an evil face diary,

when you look into the eyes of evil reaching across from you- be it on a magazine cover, in a court of law, or the front seat of your car- you can just tell- there is no good inside. get away from that shit. i should learn to lesson after my own self i mean really, stay away from the bad luck- i would then only have business transactions with good luck. i used to frequent a small time gentleman on a bigtime slope around town. when i looked evil in that face the last time- i had no idea what it was i saw. but now i know what that horror looks like and what a picture i can draw. the public in general has a picture of evil, i will (of course) post it down below, but it can come in many forms. when you look into someones eyeballs, you expect to see a glimmer of humanity- a soul in there. a man's character is his fate.

dickbreath vs cockmouth

dear flow of water like wine or traffic diary,

it is time to blast off to the bath again. i ain't gunna dress up or nothin, but i am going to wash my hair because- and i would have already told you guys this but the fucking grid blew up and i think that somehow cuntface was behind it, but that's just me, (i really did think cuntface shut my blog down until i found out everybody had theirs shut down and then i felt retarded which is how i am supposed to feel) anyway, at lunch last night at work last night, when we was takin a break last night, i spit out my window and it landed IN MY HAIR. omg. everyone laughed- except me- because obviously it was not the least bit funny. i was glad it was just spitty spit and not a hacker spit or worse, a seven kinds of cock mouth- genuine whorespit. there's a topic for another post. now, i have to dive into my porcelain masterpiece- my lover. i'm making the snake suffer in the shower til i feel like looking at her again.

it's a fanger banger

dear the bird finger diary,

i have never heard a rat squeal that long when it was being killed in the shower. i bet is screamed for over 45 seconds and then let out another last yelp. the unibomber did something so dumb today, he set me the fuck up and i am still pissed off, but what can you do about it- but sit here with an ice cube and a towel and know next time it will be fucking different. i sent him to get the rats, which i swore i would never do again, and this time i mean it, but at least this time he came home with rats and not mice. normally when i get home i put them in the bathroom sink. guess where he put them? go ahead- guess. i wasn't payin attention (cuz i was bloggin) and i look up a few minutes later and  i see the snake at the top of the tank SNIFFING HER DINNER THROUGH THE LID. i know ima get bit when i take her out. AND I DID. she got me. my bird finger- the most important finger of all- got a big bite out of the knuckle- and started squirting blood everywhere. i almost bled out. now i have a row of fang marks on my finger that would look very sexy as a tattoo and blood on my shirt to match, oh and rat shit in the shower- WHICH IMA LEAVE BECAUSE AS YOU ALL KNOW- I TAKE BATHS.

all the king's whores

dear moving around diary,

just consider one more moment alone with me. what would you say? i know what i would say. it's not just emotional, it's physical. you manipulated me during my most vulnerable time, when i was falling in love, or when i thought i was. now it's the grief talking. i wont turn a slip into a fall- don't worry. i take great pride in how much i have grown from the whole ordeal- what a better whore i have become. i have a few choice words to say to you, that would be after i hit you with my shoe, but your mouth and your lips and your words and whispers, i don't know why i continue to go there. it must make your dick hard to think that i care. i don't tho. not really. i prolly could have tho- if you'da been more manly. in mid-air that bird did fall. it put things to an end once and for all. piece by piece the castle did crumble and off the wall humpty did tumble. oh no. here we go.

retarted pineapples

dear toe job diary,

the things people search for, i intend on delivering. is that what everyone wants? a toe job these days? i am on that. like sling on to a cling on- gimme what you got. but how does a pineapple become retarded. you all know i can not indulge in pineapple the way my carnal desires lure me. i must ignore them in the most harsh way, for if i ravish myself and feast upon the most gracious of all lovely of fruits- for me- there will be a price to pay. oh how i would love to hack the hard poky skin off to reach that delicate center, ahh yes, to sink my teeth into that plumpy middle and feel its juice release its splendor. how i love pineapple so, the texture in my teeth- the crunchy chewy feeling there- it is mystical bloodless meat. however, what a pineapple does to me, omg, no other fruit will do. not oranges, not pears, not peaches, (thank you Jesus) not bananas, not grapefruit, or kiwi (eww) or cantaloupe, or grapes, strawberries, watermelon, or apples either. pineapples make my butthole bleed and i mean drip drip drip, so i don't eat them much any more and if i do i sneak just one chunk and i eat it in the dark- in secret- so my eyeballs cant tell my asshole it is coming.

fuck you blogger (i don't like tomgreen anymore either)

dear losing posts and being pissed diary,

i really do not know what to say, except, "fuck you blogger and I WANT MY POSTS BACK." but my kitchen floor is clean, i have had a tremendous nap and made lots of new friends of twitter. SHOUT OUT @COFFEEBOOKCHICK. i also learned tomgreen is having a hard time accepting his 40th birthday that is july 30th, but somehow i think that was just his way of a stale conversation starter. at first i felt for him, but after he reminded everyone he was turning 40, (in 3.5 months) over twenty six times- i said fuck this shit and moved on. no wonder drew barrymore left his stupid ass. i prolly would have fucked him right up until we tweeted and now... nah. i'll not and say i didn't. you guys didn't miss shit. except everything. i'll tell you more about that later. love you all.

interception

dear private messages diary,

i look for them everywhere. and sometimes i find them. sometimes i am so happy when i get a private message- even when the tv sends me the message. i like messages from the tv because i know those messages are the ones that were supposed to get to me. i am dumb, but i ain't stupid. it isn't so much that ignore the other messages i get, i just miss them sometimes- because they aren't so obvious. plus i try and miss them. they hurt more than the tv messages. feeling the need to explain myself about why i follow the directives of the messages i sometimes get from the television set tonight- well- is because i got another message plain as day from the tv whila go. it told me to tell you to about my message so nobody else thought that message could in fact be for them. cuz it wasn't. it was for me. interception by blogger.

high josh

dear voicemail diary,

i finally got my very first recreational voicemail, but i haven't listened to it yet. ima try and figure that out when i am in the bathtub next time. i am not very good at learning new things, prolly cuz i am so good at what i already know, (wink) like even answering the call was a bit of a challenge. i did good at stopping it from ringing, i said, "hello," and my heart even was thumping because i could tell the call was different- but then some automated woman said, "to accept this call from," and then a yummy, "JOSH," said his name, and the automation continued, "press one and to send to voicemail- press two," and i fucking thought it was a collect call- i got confused- and scared- and i didn't want to pay- and so i hung up. then i got the text message- a hot guy called my number and left a message. i'll cancel all my appointments for a josh one. well let's not get ahead of ourselves. i still have to make a living around here. LMAO.

my big plans

dear cake on a platter diary,

imagine your head for a moment, on a platter. wouldn't that be a sight. i am hungry now, so let's not imagine that anymore. let's switch and imagine a big gooey cake then. i am about ready to send the unibomber off on a voyage. he is going alone. i intend on staying here. alone. what a treat. he is preparing to launch. i am excited. it is a rare event that i am alone these days, usually i require a babysitter of some sort. ahh, yes. a babysitter it would seem, until further notice, it would seem, SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE, i am not being at all mean. i am living the dream. back to the cake- our gooey cake filled with cream. i feel like i could make one- if i had a pan clean. i am going to mop the floor in my kitchen. i will be a sweaty busy whore- there will be no one here to listen to me bitchin- except becky and the grump who i will thump on the head- and when i get done we will crawl into bed.

pop me some corn

dear on one side diary,

all my life i have tried to chew on both sides of my mouth. that is harder to do that one might think, especially when you aren't thinking about it. i think food tastes better when you leave your mouth open just a little bit- to let air in to mix with your food while you're chewin. the unibomber says i am a pig cuz i chew with my mouth open- but i am telling you- food don't taste right with it closed. and about corn on the cob, that's is another thing. i cant help it that i was raised to eat the shit right. i eat a row at a time- like a typewriter- and a row goes all the way down the cob and three cornrows deep- with butter and NO SALT- and i just like it hot- don't cook it. the only reason to heat up corn at all is to make sure them fuckin corn worms are dead- otherwise you could just eat it right out of the patch. i like to eat, but i don't like people to criticize how i chew my food. them little sweet corns are comin up right now in somebody's back yard and i cant wait til they are on my plate. i'll be chewin that shit on both sides of my mouth with my jaw droopin down to the GROUND.

window wagon

dear when you think about it though diary,

it makes me want to slam a bitch. it angers me, disrupts my thought patterns, upsets my belly and makes my ears ache. i shit you the fuck not. all i ever wanted was a station wagon when i was a kid. one like they had on the brady bunch- you know- where the back window would roll down and we could go to a ghost town just like they did. now i never want to put the gas into a wood paneled gas eater. but what really eats at my soul are the haunting memories of the man who ran all the others out of my heart. fuck him anyway, that fat dickless wonder.

slappin naptime

dear little faint noises diary,

sometimes when it is really super quiet in my house, which believe me when i tell you- ain't often- but on those rare fucking occasions it is- it ain't for me. i always hear something in my head- always. i used to not, but i do now and sometimes it drives me crazy. even under water i can hear the noise- so i know it is in my head. sometimes it is a simple tone- just a soft beep- like right now that is what it is. but when i get really tired, sometimes the noise turns into a basketball game on an AM radio- where i can hear the shoes squeaking on the court and whistles blowing and the ball slamming on the backboard- and fans cheering- but then all of a sudden the announcers start leading me on like its the football game- i can hear the words endzone and touchdown and sideline- and then the shoes start squeaking again and the ball is bouncing and then- a commercial on the AM radio. then the static takes over and i guess i fall asleep. i like it better when i hear eddie rabbit, but that usually only happens when i turn on my cd player.

thumbs uP

dear thumbing it diary,

downtime in the bathtub again waiting on my hair- prolly the most boring time of my day. i started thumbing around down there and found that if you press real hard in the center of the upside down triangle- you can get a set of balls- i guess by the way i got it shaved out right now. that amused me for a minute or two- just thinking abOut where i would put the big penis. but you and i both know, had i have been blessed with one of those outfits- it would have been just like the big hero's- a nice looking package- but a bum deal- tinker toy small. i could NOT have dealt with that shit. i am so glad i got the hot pocket. it is fun to think about though, i would slam a bitch if i had a hot rod. i'd bend a bitch over and just fuck her dry. you know that is what they all want every once in a while. at least i do. except when i am in the bathtub. then i like to get out wetter than i got in. like today. duh.

bad company

dear color of sound diary,

well after i painted my fingernails purple to match the shirt ima prolly wear later today, it made me want to listen to purple by the stone temple pilots. so i did. i found myself listening to interstate love song on the interstate and i thought to myself, "damn how fitting." then my mood turned to yellow- so i played green eyes by coldplay for the trip home. i ask myself why i do the same things every year and not just this thing i did this morning either- the other things i do- but i never do get an answer. ima quit asking someday. but until then, or until i do get an answer, or until it happens again, cuz i believe history does in fact repeat itself- wait- I KNOW HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF- you just gotta be there at the right time to catch it. and i saw a shooting star at 3:12AM on May 12th one year- sittin in the middle of the interstate. i sure didnt getta see one again this morning- but it made me happy remembering the time that i did.

hoe hum- i'm still dumb

dear real life diary,

accepting an award would be awkward. i would probably fart or belch or swear on accident. i can give one hell of a public speech though, but accepting an award for a personal achievement- i would throw up- just hurl all over. i wouldn't be able to stop it. nothing i have ever done has be recognized as good, not publicly anyway, shit people just now started taking me seriously. the lady at work who gave me her chicken recipe actually stuck up for me- which made me CRY in the car, but i didn't let anyone inside know how it touched me so. i did thank her- a few times for her kind words- but it was all i could do not to bawl. i want to have an impact, however mostly upon the side of one cuntface or her head. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE!

noodle soup

dear sir diary,

if i would have had the phone number to MR. BLOGGER'S home phone, or better yet, his cell phone, i would have sent a picture of a threatening chicken with its' head cut COMPLETELY OFF last night to that fucker- for all the heartache and stress i went through trying to post a post when i got home. nobody treats the whore like that anymore, because i have an account at wordpress. just because i haven't posted there yet doesn't mean i cant. i can export my whole blog over there iffin i wanted. that really pissed me off last night. i might even still be pissed now, i cant tell yet. we will just have to wait and see how my favorite day finishes out.

big fat and wide

dear fuck diary,

that's a weird one. i don't think i have ever written in here before. fuck. looks good to me. i may have to duplicate that. i like it. becky is layin here dreaming- she is prolly chasing after some fine ass stud dog in her dream. he is prolly so handsome- with a big ballsack- and they are tramping through a tall field of soft weedless grass rimmed with daises and other beautiful wild flowers that smell so pretty and sweet. oh my, i think she just found a stream or a creek- she laughed and seemed to frolic a little. i want to touch her and it really is all i can do not to- but she looks so happy- i don't wanta wake her. i just wanna be here to hold her when she gets to the part where her handsome stud has a very disappointing male member and an evil cuntface bitch rabies infested wife. she'll  wake up and remember- i am prolly the best mommy ever. even though i can not please her in the male member only way, i can love her like nobody's business. and june 1, i think we should get legally unionized.  

clippings (in the coffee)

dear another good use diary,

i just know there has to be use for all the cuticle skin and toenail skin i have saved over the years. someday this old folgers coffee can will be full of cuttings and worth a ton of money i am just sure of it. especially since i've made sure that no toenails or fingernails have gotten mixed in AND it's only mine in there. they shrivel up to hardly anything anyone else can recognize- except us skin collectors, but now that the can is finally over half full- the bulk really makes a cool sound when you bounce it on your knee. i gotta keep the unibomber out of it- he wants to burn them all the time in his little experiments in the garage and i hate that shit- let us make a special effort to stop communicating with each other so we can have a special conversation and maybe i shall part with a handful of my fingernail skin. fucking fucker. i shall now paint my nails to ready myself for my upcoming trip at 3AM.

true love always

dear molested diary,
i know when you get molested you are supposed to feel dumpy about yourself and like shit afterwards. but honestly, i don't feel that way and prolly the only reason i feel any guilt at all is because i don't feel dumpy or like shit- i feel the opposite- i liked it and i cant wait for it to happen again. and i know it will. and prolly pretty quick too. i really fought him off- but it did no good and it never does. he is much stronger and determined. he holds me down the same way everytime he does it. it always makes me laugh at first, rendering me powerless, which is when he takes complete control and usually that is when he puts his mouth over mine and steals the kiss. i can do nothing but fight for air as he simply devours the whole inside of my mouth and it seems if i haven't brushed my teeth this will cause him to engage in deeper tongue thrusting. by the time he is finished- i am blue in the face and gasping. becky is standing next to me completely devastated at the results and ready to assist in resuscitation. and the grump- he walks away proud- until i get my wits back enough to kick him swiftly across his ass and happily wait for him to return for seconds.

our own space

dear oh my gosh diary,

at 3 in the morning i have to get up and leave. i have somewhere i need to be. it doesn't need to be a secret, but i ain't ready to tell everyone yet. i'll tell you where i am going tho- ima go out to the interstate. i go every year on may 12th at 3:12 AM and i usually leave here around 3. it doesn't have anything to do with death, money, or sex, so i am sure everyone will be devastated in their own subtle way, but it is important to me- so i do it- YAY! when i get home i will tell you what i've done- maybe i'll take the old laptop with me.

on my fingers and toes

dear counting days again diary,

if my math is correct (and it is) then today would be a FIRST SHIFT DAY, which to us stupid dumb whore people- just means it it a SAFE DAY, unless it is a KELLY DAY, which to us stupid dumb whore people- just means it would have been a SAFE DAY, but now it is not. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE! i don't care what day it is- every three days IS A SAFE DAY FOR ME WHETHER A KELLY IS INVOLVED OR NOT. sometimes i wonder if he covers up his pretty jap bike with that grill cover at the station or just at the plasma center. i wonder why he didn't cover up his american made van- i think it has a higher book value. i know i have posted this picture before- but it has been SO long- i just had to do it again. maybe in a couple of days, I WILL POST IT AGAIN. afterall, it is unprotected, like everything else he has, so why not? RIGHT? and as a plus- i getta call the JUDGE as my witness if he tries anything stupid... so.... i might just go 'postal,' and POST shit EVERYDAY.

silent night

dear yack yack yack diary,

that is what i did all morning long- talk in my sleep. i have not one clue as to what makes me do this, but i do it, and it drives me crazy sometimes. i would never admit that out loud in real life certainly, but on here- i don't have a problem telling you guys- it fucking blows ass getting woke up by YOUR OWN SELF. it does. who can you complain to? really. who is there to bitch at? whose pop do i spit in? i often wonder if anyone else suffers from this same problem. or again, if it is unique only to me- like so many things i have found are. i am telling you that either way would be okay- i just need to know.

straight- for a dollar

dear a small exciting trick diary,

exactly while this post is posting, ima be in the water, prolly with both feet hangin over the side and my hair in the water. ima be relaxing enjoying every single part of being where i am at. i'll prolly be a bit distracted knowing what fell out for lunch today for pick three and better yet the odd combinations for pick three and four for dinner, but then i am a number freak- and today was a freaky number day. enjoy this perfectly timed posted post. i'll hope my timing is as perfect. shA-ZAM!!

whore grunge fashion dreadlocks (mine wont smell)

dear i might go take a bath diary,

i ain't sure what good it will do, considering how wet it is outside, but i figure it couldn't hurt. i am just so happy my porch is clean i don't give a shit about to much of  anything else. really i don't. ima stop brushing my hair for a month just to see what it would look like. i wait for a good reason just to wash it sometimes, so what would be the harm in putting off brushing it. i think that next monday will be a good day to start this experiment, unless i start sooner. shady. well. i look at it like this, i don't have any important legal appearances to make til late next year and even then i could go with yellow piss colored hair like cuntface always does when she makes her grand performances, SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE, and i don't think it prolly would matter what ima look like. ima bring the judge a fruit basket anyway, he wont be looking at my hairs.

canister king

dear i don't really have to watch it diary,

leaving the dogs alone with the vacuum can be dangerous. becky likes to bite it and the grump will turn it on and attack the living dogshit out of it- cuz it scared him when it came on. neither one of them like the sweeper and it is all because of the grump- he started it. it's true about the pack leader thing- he's taught becky almost everything she knows. she is such a great dog. she could have turned out to be such an ass too. at least he doesn't piss on the vacuum like old marty pants used to. omg that was awful- having to remember to put the sweeper up on the table or chair before we left the house EVERYTIME we'd go. maria drove my dogs nuts today and i drove them nuts again tonite doing behind the couch. now there are a couple of new tooth marks in the sweeper, but there is no urine anywhere to be found. thank goodness marty pants wasn't the pack leader.

one flew past the whornets nest

dear gourd head diary,

go ahead and judge me all you want, i don't like bugs. mosquitoes, ants, fleas, spiders, gnats, you name it, bees and wasps and whornets especially- bugs suck. i just saw a flying one and it reminded me- the bug season has arrived. fuck a bug. they get in my hair. once i ate a bug. sure, it didn't kill me, but it gives me the inner jeebies when i think about it and i relive the experience every time it passes through my head. see right there. a bug just landed on me now. a black beetle bug. omfg. now the bugs will invade my dreams. i couldn't live with cock roaches. i couldn't do it. i wouldn't do it. i live in a bug free zone. my house is far toooo messy for a cock roach.

scratch & sniff

dear getting bit diary,

well that pretty much does it for me and i know he didn't give me all he's got either. he showed restraint. i could feel him pulling back off me before he really tore into me. in fact, he never broke through, but it wouldn't have taken but a stitch longer and things would have been totally different. he turned to the unibomber's favorite stocking hat and now it is destroyed and gone- leaving in the once a week garbage pick up this afternoon, but i am telling you, the teeth marks in my hand were there for a while. it all started when he rolled his head up in the window and my switch wont roll it down anymore, so i had to reach under him to roll it down and when he pulled his head back inside- it was all my fault he'd damn near strangled himself once AGAIN, and i guess it really was since i hadn't locked the windows- but his dumb ass rolled it up so i don't wanna hear it. it was my hand and i was trying to drive and there was a cop behind me and now he wants to challenge- no- this dog wanted to fight-me over the unibomber's favorite stocking hat. what a fucking mess. the hat lost. it got shredded into a ball of yarn and disposed of quickly and quietly upon arrival. i wasn't pulled over for erratic driving, fortunately, and the grump did not need a crash cart for his crushed windpipe or any other further medical attention. as far as the almost severe 'mock' bite to my hand, i dunno what to think about that. i am just sure those tiny little tooth indentations on my skin were to serve more than a warning. maybe an outline for a helmet tattoo or even something more.

crumby bitch

dear somebody diary,

somebody has been eating crackers in my bed again. i know who it is and the color of their skin. it wouldn't be a big thing but i think i already know- and if it is who i think it is- my baby girl will have to go. she knows better than to nose around in the kitchen- up on the counter especially- and to steal a package of ritz crackers is not so pleasing to me. and how she got them open- i think she had help, because i have a hard time getting them open myself. however it happened, it did and it is done, i yelled at her whila go and she did take off and run. she came right back out and she is laying at my feet, but she knows if i was a mean person she would deserve to get beat. she looks so sad right now- like she knows i am posting about her- she keeps looking up at me and i look down at her and she sighs like there is guilt there. she has cracker dough between all her teeth and she is trying so hard not to lick it. every time i look at her she acts like her lips were dry or some shit. ima kiss on her and love her so she doesn't slip into a depression. i just hope she learned her ritz cracker lesson.

who you with?

dear here we go again diary,

i am a, "retarded bitch." i get told this at least 1200 times per year, on an average. that's why i put retarded before whore up there on the description of my blog you see. cuntface christened me a whore, (SHOUT OUT) and the unibomber has called me a retarded bitch since the day i met him, mmm, i'd say within the first few minutes actually- maybe within the first five even- i think it was. but at any rate- i am a retarded whore and i drivel and according to the unibomber, "i never shut up," but these days his complaint is he, "doesn't have anyone to talk to," so which is it? i suggested he get a blog. feeling kind of boxed in is how i felt before i got a blog and was forbidden from leaving the state. now that i can go anywhere i want and conduct my business, then plug my little laptop in at mcdonalds and run my fatass mouth about anything that flows through my mind like a shedding uterus, i dunno, somehow makes everything less boxed up. i guess i've come to terms and even like being a retarded bitch. i've come to enjoy being a whore. but it is funny that i even acknowledge either of you, being as dumb and busy as i am.

i think it will

dear well if that doesn't do it diary,

i scrubbed the porch off and the whole time i imagined that princess kate was coming for a visit. i could hear coldplay in my head as the background music- just the piano- that gweneth paltrow or whatever HER name is has got to be the luckiest skank ever to wake up and hear that lovely voice in the shower. look at this ugly crackhead photo i took of the bitch- go ahead look at it- and tell me again how butt ass ugly I AM.

that's fine. personally i think she looks like a typical crackhead in this shot- after an all night fuckfest- but that's my opinion and not currently endorsed by anyone. i am simply starved at the moment and heating up chicken wings. it'll be nice to have a clean porch again. maybe i'll blog there in the morning while i wait for kate to arrive.

service quarters

dear when you wish upon a glass dairy,

you would prolly get a milky white surprise, or some cheeze whiz. now i ain't a big fan of cheeze whiz, but i like the jar it comes in because it is still glass. glass is so cool because over the years the recipe for it hasn't changed like it did for plastic. did you notice that? plastic keeps changing every single dang day- and i know it's evolving to get better for the environment- but tell me- what is better than glass? the lids reseal- the containers sterilize, and glass recycles- we've always known that shit. i love glass. people that cut themselves are careless. i feel special when i eat and drink from glass- cold milk from a glass- ice cream from a frozen glass dish- pancakes from a warm glass plate- syrup from a glass boat- butter squares from a glass saucer. plastic is for the poor homeless people who must live from the cans and eat rubbish with their fingers. i would like my koolaid served in a cheeze whiz jar- to go- with a lid. 

an interest of dick hopp

dear somebody did a search on dick hopp today diary,

ima see how many times i can use the name dick hopp in this post now. i wonder who would search for dick hopp. i doubt it was dick hopp. maybe it was dick hopp. wouldn't it suck to have the name dick hopp. if dick hopp was my name, i would change it. i saw dick hopp the other day in the courthouse. he was with a man who filed for a divorce against his poor wife who was clearly battling cancer and had a stupid mule for her lawyer. i wanted to be her lawyer. i heard how dick hopp rearranged his spice rack- everybody did- and it made me just want to puke on the floor. dick hopp sat there and went on and on about his spice rack for twenty minutes and it was all i could do to remain in my seat. i needed to employ dick hopp to arrange my spice rack. my spice rack was a hot mess and it seemed like dick hopp was indeed the man qualified to do my dirty little job. i decided i didn't want dick hopp in my house. i decided i didn't want to employ dick hopp. i am sure there is a conflict of interest.

encyclopedia brown tooth

dear question about teeth diary,

everyone knows i had my wisdom teeth cut out. but did i? sometimes i stick my finger in my mouth back there and it feels like they are just about ready to come through again. maybe i am one of them people who are just so smart that i grew more. maybe hatched new ones from a piece of the root that got left in there from the old ones that broke off when the mouth surgeon cut them bitches out. he done all four of them at once, so mistakes was bound to happen. i think i got a 'dry socket' if that matters any. my mom always said i was smarter than the other kids in my class, well that could be why- cuz i had the two sets of wisdom teeth. remember when everything you could find out about anything came in a book? those were called encyclopedias. my kids haven't a clue as to what those are. i wish kids didn't come with wisdom teeth anymore- but then would they all be dumb? oh fuck, let's hope not.

medicinal pothead

dear here is what i used to do diary,

bewhore, when i needed to do something i felt was important for whatever clever reason i deemed it important, and i caught myself dragging my sweet flat ass about doing it, i would smoke some really good weed and that would motivate me into doing whatever it was i needed to get done. OR if that didn't work and i knew it wasn't gonna work, i would withhold the weed until the horrible job was done and then relish. i don't have that little motivational tool any longer because the lying city worker and his beloved cuntface wife took my american right to be a full time pothead away from me for the next almost two years. in actuality, i consider myself to use it medicinally, because rarely am i a recreational user, except for in cases when i am in need of a monumental reward- like of course- i listed when opening this post. but you try expressing the grump's anal glands or cleaning behind your 80 year old father's toilet.

the kitchen knife

dear faster than i thought diary,

when i laid down i never once thought about it being 5PM when i woke up again, but there it was- that is what it said on the clock. another day gone. maria did such a good job on the carpet in the livingroom today- i almost don't want new carpet now. she used a knife on it. i watched her for a few minutes before i went to bed to try and learn a new trick and i sure did. first she swept the carpet with the upright vacuum and then she sat down and went over sections with the dull side of the knife and the sucker hose, digging into the baseboards and corners and scratching up dirt i didn't know was there. then she stood up and connected the hose and vacuumed again and to my surprise- even some of the mud stains were gone. this mexican woman is brilliant. i would have never thought to bust out a knife on my carpet and not use that knife to shred the carpet. but whatever works. knives are handy little objects.

package offer

dear my favorite customers diary,

i have my favorite customers. i think all businesses do. mine are the ones who don't pay though. i know what you're prolly thinking, but it is true- for me it is. i like to give my best work and all of my concentrated effort to my customers who deserve my attention the most. usually people who have all the money receive the best in all areas of life- across the board. they get the bigger potato at the restaurants. they get the cleaner rooms at the hotels. and i think that is kindof shitty because they have the money to buy another potato if they are hungry- the bigger one ought to go to the guy who is hungry- who is buying what he can. maybe one night in the clean sheets of a nicer room in the hotel will make the poor man want to rise above what he has. i don't treat my customers like shit unless they pay extra.

fat fucker on a jap bike

dear the bigger you are the smaller it looks diary,

now, i don't want to offend any of you bigger boys out there- the older i get the more i like bigger men. i used to favor the skinny guys- the wrap your legs around them twice kind... but i dunno. i like onions now too- things are changing. anyway, there is a cutoff though, and especially if your dick is little. word, okay okay. if you gain weight, your dick prolly ain't. just sayin. same with us women- when we gain weight- our boobs don't get bigger. we have to get a padded bra or a boob job. so now that we know gaining weight will not increase your penis size, why do you insist on being a fat fuck? all my friends see you and text me and it is so embarrassing. please, if you insist on riding that stupid motorcycle around all summer long- go on a diet or work out or hide that shit- ride at night- SOMETHING- there is no excuse for your body to look like that.

ps... this post was not directed towards the goat. he has a bad ass mean harley, is not fat, and i would imagine to have a rather large goat penis (judging from turds)

oh positive

dear that is nasty diary,

i could never sell my blood. that is nasty. i donate my blood. the big hero city employee with the tiny little penis and i did it together a couple of times- but i donated blood long before he ever entered the picture. i have true whore blood. i have O+ blood and my blood can get pumped up into anybody or however that works. now prince william came out perfect, meaning he has A+ blood and i don't know about the unibomber or prince harry and harry became quite upset the other day when i knew william's blood type and not his. william's is just easy to remember- cuz he's perfect. but seriously, i could never sell my blood. my mom was sick when i was little and she used 78 pints of blood people donated between Easter sunday 1978 and Labor day 1983. it is true that in one of those pints of blood came another disease that did seal the deal, but the other 77 were the lifesaving drops of love that kept her with us those precious extra years. i know a crackhead didn't donate their time or blood to give me those few extra moments with my mother. that is why i could never sell my blood. i donate it, in hopes that a little whore has an extra day with her mommy.  

right at home

dear whodda thunk it diary,

i never thought of myself as the organic type, but lately all i've been wanting to do is shove a carrot up my ass. of course i haven't done it... yet, (we don't have any carrots bigger than a suppository) and for the life of me can not think of any reason why i would even think to do such a thing- but i guess it happens. oh the mental image of the poor used up defenseless carrot. wouldn't be its first time packed in the mud, now would it? enough i dare say. i do wish to have my carpets replaced immediately. fuck cleaning the bitches. i want new padding too. i don't care if the padding is still good, i want new padding. i think it smells. ima roll the padding up and keep it and put it in the bedroom in the basement someday. this- because i am a cheap ass. one day all the ignorant shit i have piled up in there will be gone and again there will be room for a bed and carpet as well. maybe if someone would shove a carrot up my ass things would happen faster. YA THINK??

give and take

dear hot damn diary,

i was up so late yesterday morning- til 4:30AM playin with that new dumb phone. the unibomber set the old washer out at the curb and it left whila go. the fucker worked too. somebody will just haul it to the junk yard i betcha anymfthing and it worked man and he didn't even bother to tell them. he just set it out there and it disappeared, like things always do. i didn't want any money for it- but ida least like to've told them the heavy ass bitch worked. i feel bad for that washer man, it worked good. the only thing about it was- it kinda walked a little bit- you had to scoot it back to the wall after every load. OKAY- it shook to high hell. but as long as it was on the concrete- by gawd it was fine. i dunno. nobody asked me. but nobody ever does and that's fine.

chucky is so smart (i cunt stand it)

dear this is what the genius said now diary,

'sigmund freud (another horny genius who dabbled in cocaine) was an avid pipe smoker. legend has it that during a lecture about the sexual implications of oral fixations, a mischievous attendee asked him what the unconscious meanings were behind his constant pipe puffing. the great man's answer was, "sometimes a pipe is just a pipe." over the years this quote somehow morphed into "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." regardless, the intent is the same. every once in a while there is no subtext, no hidden meaning. in my own experience i would suggest that, "sometimes a monkey is just a monkey." that being said, i think we can all agree that a cigar is always an ignitable penis.'

sugar smack

dear my mom used to slap the whoreshit out of me diary,

shit you not, if some phrase or slang word came out of my mouth she didn't like- she wouldn't hesitate to pop me a smacker faster than a blink of an eye. i got to where i would duck before i would run my mouth. sometimes i would forget though- because my mouth always did run faster than i could catch it. it fucking sucks having one of those kind of mouths too- because they never do tame. i am just so glad my ankles didn't turn out fat- or my knees. my mom would be very pleased at how my legs turned out, but when she would watch television these days and hear the comments about the 'bong hits' and 'sperm donations' it makes me wonder who she would reach over to slap. i know that no matter how cool i really think i am inside- i don't think i could have ever brought her over here to the understanding of the terminology and technology we use and call humor on the dark side. just a note.

oh for shits sake

dear new wave of style diary,

so i am really catching on to things around here. i am. for the last two days now i have sported a whole new look. proof that just because i wasn't hit on the head as a child like both my children were, i can still come up with new and interesting things to spunk up a boring whore's life. here is exactly what i did- iffin you would like to try it yourself. first i took a bath- and washed my hair and used a deep yummy drenching conditioning treatment. i let it sit there- in my hair- and  thought about all the things i usually think about when that shits in my hair and i'm sittin there- keeping my water clean- waitin for it to quench in and tonight- i saw the window where the screen was for two years. it looks funny up there. it makes the whole basement look cleaner somehow. it is funny how a clean window really does make a dirty place cleaner. i love clean windows. then i finally rinsed my hair- i have mermaid hair- i really love my hair, and then my kid called and i had to GO PICK HIS ASS UP AND THAT PISSED ME OFF. so instead of stayin pissed off about it- i flipped my hair out the window and air dried my hair on the way there. now i have that poofy style hair again and i think i'll really like it better in the morning when it's got the frizzle look on the east facing side of my head. oh and watch this while you're at it.

juicy white meat

dear we have time diary,

one thing you can count on, i'll post some new meaningless drivel pretty soon and you never do know what this little doodamahickey will be about either. it could be my bath, or plucking my eyebrows, or shaving my seaweed off my legs again (like i did last night) or shaving my landing strip (which i did tonight) or how things turned out when i cooked on the new grill again. omg- what a dream boat annie. what a glorious find. i'd like to now share the meal fit for a whore.

post 1140

HIGH friends all over

dear look at this now diary,

look here. i don't know what this means but my pajama bottoms ain't dry. they are soaked clear through to my slippers cuz i am sitting on my heels- squirming deliberately- because it feels good and i am squirmy. look what i found. go ahead- i am prolly still squirming- go on- i'll wait here. go go go gadget FUCKING GO....

http://www.topblogakbar.co.cc/cinta/dear-diary-of-a-retarded-whore

are you back yet cuz i wanna talk about it some more when you are. did you see it? i know. i couldn't understand it much either but here's what i got out of it, OMFG. can you believe that shit? that's prolly why i been havin so much foot traffic coming through here like a mad house. man i wondered what happened- i had FOUR HUNDRED AND FORTY ONE (not lying) VISITORS on may 5th and i almost shit a load of purple hash, but instead it came out the sour diesel. i had to hit the blunt after all that- but i am sure i would still test clean on a piss test. it was some smelly shit i could NOT pass up- you know- old habits do die hard. i survived and feel much more in tune with the center of earth- which i know is not the true location of hell- ahh, the address of hell is on the lane of the shadow- just west of the north walmart here in my town. oh and roger says, "SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE!"  

war of the nap

dear my arm hurts now diary,

last year i didn't put the screen in the front door because becky was still little and i had faith she would learn to better listen yet AND SHE DID! i mean- she still has her moments- but there are so few it is hard to actually tell when they are until after they are over. last year at this time we were still learning the basic concept of, 'no honey,' and, 'you better quit that or ima get that belly,' which she still responds to with so much love. fucking i love to smash my face in the underside of her carriage and do the motor boat. it makes her laugh. she is a baby. when i put baby powder on her she smells just like an infant and i just love to snuggle with her when she is all snugly and gooey with lovins- which is generally anytime of the day. even when you snatch her up and take her to bed against her will- she'll change her mind after a minute and you can let her go and tell her, "ok becky, you can go iffin you want to," but guess what.... she wont leave. she wont. she will let out a little grunt sigh and let you know- YOU WON.

here is hanging up on you QUEER- i mean DEAR

dear it ain't easy being retarded diary,

my phone has been ringing all day, but nobody leaves a message. i dunno. it is unfortunate, i need to get a phone that the ringer works. hummm. all these area codes. 303, 617, 847, 317, i've been busy doing area code searches all day. i shoulda put my phone number on here a long time ago- just for something to do. it is hot today- i don't wanna be dressed. sticky icky. i wanna be wet and naked in water. preferably a jacuzzi tub with company, but alone would be fine too, i'm not picky. maybe a roll around in the grass or a fun little swat on my ass- for making you wait just a minute tooooo long...... or for telling you all of your pudding was gone. we coulda had so much fun for awhile- but after all that time- i wasn't your style. you liked them balls that hang big like yours- but a tiny small dick that don't match- for sure, i'll see my phone light up again one day- and i'll answer that bitch and be sure to say, "good morning," to the person on the line- waiting to hear MY voice this time.

practical uses for pony tails

dear nerve endings diary,

for some reason, i am at my wits end today with the unibomber, his voice, and the style of his hair. he looks like george washington and i do wish he would get a haircut. he did finally shave that shit off his face and not a moment too soon, to be honest with you, he did it in stages and i didn't really even notice until he'd called me on it. i try not to look at him and just got so used to it that now i just don't and then when i do- it scares  me sometimes. so now he's wearing the pony tail thing in the back and his sides are so long- even they fit in there too. oh my. such style that flows from the mysterious quiet man with the long flowing hair and shaven face. when i see a man with a pony tail i always think of willie nelson and this other guy we know named tim. i also think the unibomber would look ultra cool with two pony tails- one on each side of his head. or if he would raise the one pony tail higher on the crown of his head- maybe position it over his balding spot- he could prevent a sunburn while riding his bike. i dunno. just an idea. and if someone could please explain to me what that little chin pony tail was used for- i'm still trying to figure that one out. i mean i have my suspicions- but someone should really draw me a picture- and color it in.

slap that ass

dear booty tap diary,

bend over and start the cameras rolling- shoot some more raw footage. i already saw some of it in my dream, be that as it may, others will pay top dollar to see your full feature film. i'm sure there is at least one short already out there, but i'm sure it's for private viewing- prolly your eyes only. slip those belted uniform pants to your knees and spread those fat ass cheeks open wide. grit your teeth and take that pain- it is what you need inside. we don't need look very far in your past to see what's been going on, i'm sure so many men and women thought you were, 'the one.' just make your little movies- like you love to do and splice them all together- then go take a shit out of your hole- like you are supposed to do.

electronic midget

dear sometimes when i am awake diary,

i'm not so good at determining sometimes, whether or not i am awake or if i am asleep, and i am not sure sometimes of how things work when i first get things- like this new phone for instance. i'm kinda dumb when it comes to electronics and ima say it is because i grew up with a typewriter. having a typewriter and zerox stunted my ability to grow technologically and advance rapidly like everyone else in the world. i still want to whiteout and begin anew. it's hard being awake and learning. things seem to sink in better when i am asleep. just learn me and let me go to bed and when i wake up- i'll have a better understanding- prolly more complete and everything. i think that is why i have had the same cell phone since 2007. people recognize me by my phone. i'm sorry but, i like my old razor phone. at least i know how to use it. that is why i hate new phones. i never spent the kind of money i spend a month on a pay phone- i couldn't even imagine carrying around that many quarters.

shutter down

dear heart to heart diary,

being open to new views is accepting all the noise this dumb snake makes 24hours a day when she is hungry and if somebody doesn't go run and cater to her tomorrow (today) then we might as well slit her down the middle and fry her in the skillet because she'd gunna die anyway- from starvation- malnutrition- she'll die from the sheer neglect i am absolutely sure of it. i prolly don't even deserve a snake and never even wanted one in the first place, but now that she is no longer the size of a tiny no.2 lead pencil, (she is approximately 58 inches now) she requires a steady flow of food and she's so hungry i am afraid she's almost dead now and i think i killed a fish once. i think i starved him to death. you could see his ribs. actually it was a girl too- it would occasionally squirt out eggs- which technically i believe is caviar, but i never ate them. eww. that is the same fish that bit my arm allot when i would clean in the tank. well i am going to bed now to prolly dream about rats, snakes, or fish. so thanks. goodnight. you can call me iffin you want. it'll go to voice mail.

row your float

dear the flood diary,

i cant remember exactly but, it was about a week after prince william was born that the mississippi river and missouri river swelled up and flooded something awful in 1993 down there in st louis and i think in quincy and on down south and it fucked a bunch of shit up. that is some mighty scary stuff. the river is not your friend. i can think of plenty of other places i'd just as soon live. but i do feel bad for those people that live down there though, who've been cool all these years and then found themselves somehow in the path. there's been some fucked up cards that've been dealt down there- shit i don't think anyone could have ever predicted- but they did it and it's done now. it's still so sad tho- it is.

buzz buzz it's a may bug

dear ima love my new crib diary,

someday i will have a big house go with my fancy phone number, but for now i suppose the apartment will have to do. ima love commuting. i have the perfect carry-on bag. i was so afraid i would have to peer over my shoulder for the next two years, but asking the judge the other day turned out to be the best thing ever. i am really not a very good fugitive but i could live in a cave if i had to. i saw my first june bug tonight on my window. it's may 9th. i blame global warming. i also threw a pineapple away that rotted on my counter and stunk up the whole frickin freakin kitchen. pee fucking you. rankity stankity.

иєίтнєя coυlđ α clєαи нєαđ вίтcн slαρ

đєαя đoи'т αиsωєя ίт đίαяγ,

тнє яίиġίиġ ίи мγ єαяs ωαs so loυđ ίт αlмosт вlίиđєđ мє. ί looӄєđ αяoυиđ тo sєє ίf αиγoиє єlsє coυlđ нєαя ίт αиđ ί đoит тнίиӄ тнєγ coυlđ. ωнєи α вίяđ flίєs ίи α ωίиđoω тнαт мєαиs тнєяє's ġυииα вє α đєαтн. αиđ тнαт's ωнγ тнєγ ίиvєитєđ scяєєиs. ί вєт. sнαll ωє đяєss иoω? "ωєll, ίs γoυя cυит clєαи?" ίf soмєвođγ sαίđ тнαт тo мє ί đυииo ωнαт ί ωoυlđ đo. ρяollγ slαρ α вίтcн αcяoss тнє нєαđ αвoυт иίиє тίмєs, sί× вєfoяє ί яєαlίzєđ ί'đ sтαятєđ. ί αίи'т иєvєя нαđ αиγoиє вє ραятίcυlαяlγ иίcє тo мє, вυт тнєγ αίи'т вєєи тнαт мєαи єίтнєя. иoт тнαт мєαи. fυcӄ. αиđ тнєяє ωαs α coυρlє of тίмєs soмєвođγ ρяollγ sнoυlđα вєєи. jυsт sαγίи. αиđ ίf γoυ cαυġнт тнαт- ωєll тнєи- ġoođ foя γoυ.

breaker 19

dear running into the past can be a blast diary,

i saw ponca girl last night at work. i see her all the time, but this time was different. we spoke. i even got all brave and gave her my phone numbers- the right ones and everything. i told her i wasn't trying to stir up any trouble- i'd kinda just like to touch base again, i always did like her before- i really did. i thought she liked me- but you never do know about people. then i thought for quite awhile (even still til now and at the store when i went and on the way home) and i cant seem to remember why we quit talking, but i know it had something to do with her daughter- and i think she was drunk over here and passed out and i told her the unibomber fucked her and she liked it. but he didn't. and i think i might have told her that we had a video of the event. but we didn't. but you have to realize that this was after a bunch of other bullshit that went on- it's just that is the part i'm having trouble remembering. it all started out to be a big joke, and then it grew a life of its own and then- well- you know how things on the CB RADIO are.

pour the wine please

dear when they approach on foot diary,

during all the commotion i couldn't imagine being able to sleep, but i did and i always do. it's that great gift i have and i wish i could share it. but it is mine and i do not use it sparingly. i will manage my own destiny. you read my heart with the devil's insight and delivered me to repentance. you asked to meet alone and i could not without counsel. it would change something, but something may not be enough. i can imagine the discord already. secret love will last forever and that is because i will never tell you. i see blood running through the streets over the carnage of what is left of all the whores who allowed you passage through their body- through their souls- through their minds- through their lives- just like i did. you did fall from grace now didn't you.

part-time fire fighter & plasma phlebotomist 

the hobo cop

dear dishwasher and train diary,

sometimes when i start the dishwasher it wont fill all the way and i have to restart it. i've cleaned the level thing so i dunno, it's done it since birth, and it didn't do it today- and i figured it would since i'd sat down, but it didn't so i got lucky i suppose. oh and i forgot to tell you something else weird that happened the other night in the middle of the night that was so out of the blue. i woke up- it was dead quiet and my window was open. i was in no pain AND i didn't have to pee or nothing- so it was weird that i woke up- everything was still. then i was kinda laying there bewildered at what on earth could have woke me and i heard- way off in the distance- i really couldn't tell- maybe a rumble- yes it was a rumble. i thought it could be a train coming, but usually they steady blow them dumb whistles- the choo choo whistles- and this rumble had none. it got closer- then i heard it, "CHOO!CHOO!" and that was it. only those two choo choos- and it rumbles off into the distance again. could it be that i woke up to hear the quietest train EVER? a sneaky train? a polite train? because you know some of those train drivers get stupid on the horns and just honk them to be rude in the middle of the night. come on, they know people are sleeping. i am just glad i woke up to hear the quiet train. i got to hear all the clicks in the tracks and it was a pretty cool way to get pulled back to sleep.

brand spankme new

dear untitled post diary,

for some reason this was a draft i started and never finished. we cant be havin that shit. i do not like to start something and not finish. prince harry, he got up whila go and i asked him if he saw the new grill. he did and replied, "why is it all beat up? dad have a hard time puttin it together?" well needless to say, i almost squirted out of my peehole as i was spitting out of my mouth. it's funny how well kids know their parents. it really is. i love my kids. and i love my new grill. it is perfect in every way.

go go go!!

don't look back (there)

dear music on the radio diary,

i am sorry to all you BOSTON fans, but here goes. I HATE the band BOSTON. i don't care how iconic they are in our american culture or nothin. they whine when they sing. even the guitars whine. i need to clean out my scumbag car. omg. all the glasses clanking around in the back floorboard one is bound to break and i cant afford to lose anymore glasses for the house- i am having a hard time finding the ones that belong there now. i bet the unibomber had to have a bottle in the car as a baby because this mother fucker can not leave without a pop between his legs and a cigarette in his jaw. it's kinda cute tho, to back out of the driveway and hear, "clank," from the floorboards in the back seat. and when you take off at a stop light- same deal, "clank," and when the old lady slams on her brakes in front of you, "super forward clank." it'll seem like something is missing when i take them out later and leave into the clank-less sunset. then it'll seem like i got new dishes when i unload the dishwasher and look for places to put them all away again.

pringles for reptiles

dear i wish i had diary,

because if there was a place where i could take my snake and serve her an 'all she could eat buffet' of rats and big healthy mice, i would go there prolly twice a month. and what they should do is weigh the animal when we walk in and then weigh the animal on the way out- and then charge according to how much the animal ate. i think my snake could eat prolly three rats and a couple mice. ordinarily, snakes ain't posta switch back and forth between mice and rats, but my snake ain't spoiled and doesn't adhere to the special rules and guidelines of the other more domesticated snakes. i know this because the unibomber (of course) went to the pet store to get rats (she'd been away from mice for over a year) and he brought her back two little bitty mice- like she ate when she was no bigger than a pencil. when i opened the box- i let out a fantastic scream- for i'd always thought once a snake went rat- they never went back. i had a waiting hungry preying snake in the shower- i threw in a tiny mouse- and that tiny mouse was gone in an instant. i threw in the other and it too- poof- was gone. i let her get used to the idea of being done eating for a while- and i got used to the idea that she ate two mice. but she went back to rats without any problem and the unibomber no longer goes for her meals.

on the clock

dear squeaky bed diary,

i think it is really something that a brand new thousand dollar box springs and mattress set squeaks when a tiny little person is laying in them and rolls over. i betcha it really sounds awful when there is some heavy duty action on top of them babies- they prolly sound like they're gunna bust in half. i'll have to pay attention NEXT YEAR, or whenever i get lucky again. i know the car seats still hold up pretty good- no i don't, i just said that. there ain't no room in my car for sex- you gotta get out of the car- damn. everyone knows that shit. i still get lucky every now and then- but i don't think the bed squeaks- i'll have to listen for it. nothing squeaks in the bathtub. all i can hear is the water and when he hears the water, i wish he'd fucking just not come near the bathtub area. it only takes me a second or two- i need that time.

chicken mcnuggets

dear so listen to this diary,

you're gunna shit. yesterday after i saw the goat's ass, it is damn near all i could think about for the entire day- until i ran into that grill on the side of the road. i am telling you, when something creeps into my mind, sometimes it is a bitch whore mother fucker to drag it out. so with that said, while i was taking apart the grill i was looking around the landscape- because screws only unscrew so fast when you have one hand, and i noticed something else along side the road that made me again think of the goat's ass. it never does end. here is what i saw. ready?

i thought to myself as i was still unscrewing, "HAIL TO THE NO,"  and had to stop and take this picture and wipe the flowing tears from my eyes. first thing in the morning i see the goat's ass, and then i see this. it was my destiny to be there- and i was certain of that. sometimes if you just look around for a sign, you'll get one.

plain as day

dear that's prolly why diary,

i really didn't sleep worth a flying fuck last night, and i had attributed it to the fact that it was prolly because i saw the goat's ass yesterday, but now i know- i was feeling a connection to another hurting lost whore out there who posted in craigland. i want to help all whores after everything i have been through this past year- and i sorta feel like i can now. i feel a connection to them like i have never felt bewhore. prolly because i never actually thought about whores as people who matter much- until i became one. man, i'll never forget that day i realized i was a whore. i am sure glad cuntface told me or i prolly still wouldn't know. i'll tell you what, once i found out, it changed everything for me- liberated me even. i fuck better, suck dick better (if that's possible) and i am just a more balanced person. shit you throw RETARDED in front of it- omfg- there you go.