overload

dear love at a loss diary,

i found myself a bawling mess tonight. at times i laughed out loud, but for the most part of the evening, memories of a tiny 6 pound 7 ounce, 21 inch long infant baby boy stayed with me pretty much the whole time. it is a believable story and generally believable stories are true. this time it really is true, but that tiny baby that peed on me the day i brought him home, he graduated from high school tonight and i have never been so proud. i don't know why i feel like i have lost out on the last SIX years of my son's life, i was here the whole time, i never went to prison, only to jail once- for like SIX hours, SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE, i dunno. all i am sayin, while i was all fucking busy these last few years trying to make shit better, my kid grew up and did it on his own. even now i am still tryin to make things better and my baby is fine on his own.

proud as a peeing cock

dear saturday night live diary,

i know i will never make the weekend update desk with seth, but i deserve to. every week lorne michaels and his little nickel and dime show writers there on nbc (the bird channel) steal my material and put it on THE BESTEST SHOW ON EARTH and never bother thanking me for it. i get so sick of that lorne michaels. it really upsets me. i am sort of GLAD this season is finally over so i can relax finally and stop watching for anymore of MY material to come across the screen. cuz it hurts my feelings so BAD to see my shit. i'd love to get credit for some of it so i can use it to get in the WGA. damn. i already belong to the YMCA. so tonight when you're watching, do me a favor- EVERYONE THINK ABOUT THE WHORE IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND- CUZ I PROLLY WROTE THE WHOLE SHOW IN MY HEAD.

and p.s. high LADY GAGA.... my son LOVES YOU! i do too! and hey JUSTIN! we have a waiter at the olive garden that looks JUST like you.... SMOKIN HOT! i always tip him good.

and pss.. kristen wigg... my man is hot for you... so I BETTER NEVER SEE YOU AT THE BAR! YOU SKANK! (just kidding) :)

suck my beaver

dear if that is what you have in mind diary,

i don't do this a whole lot, but when i do, i do it deeply. i have been thinking all morning long about what it would be like if it was completely different. it is insane to sit here and think it would be better, even i know that is quite the stretch, but it would be different prolly. naw, sometimes i miss the goat. i miss the times with the goat before the hero came along. then i miss the times with the goat in the bath tub. and then i miss the time with the goat out of state, when we would text until i would pass out. i miss how the goat made me laugh at things i didn't know were even funny. i miss how the goat made me want certain things i didn't even know were yummy. i miss the way he was such a big boy and not afraid of the world around him. but he was a dick- played a trick- and said I SWITCHED TO THE DARK SIDE. what the fuck ever. and i thought my words were clever.

the goodie trail

dear i love my blog diary,

i wish there was some way to show how much i love my blog. i want to hug my computer sometimes. i lick my screen once in awhile, but usually only when it gets dirty or some jizz on it. i try not to take my laptop to work, but sometimes i feel i have to, but ever since they shut me off on the internet, i haven't, but i might try again, who knows- they might have turned it back on by now. i don't even look at porn- so i dunno what the big deal was anyway. yes i do, someone saw me having fun and snitched me out. that's what is wrong with our world today. haters. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. just because it ain't my turn at the goodie bag doesn't turn me sour faced at someone enjoying their turn in the fucker- i ain't NEVER BEEN LIKE THAT AND NEVER WILL BE LIKE THAT and i FUCKING HATE PEOPLE LIKE THAT. SHOUT OUT AGAIN-CUNTFACE.

court transcripts ain't about shit (UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE= HEATED WHORE)

dear march 30, 2010 diary,

CASAREZ: It`s about the prenup and much, much more. We`re taking your calls live. We`re going to go to the lawyers in just a second. But first, Sheeba in Illinois. Good evening. How are you?

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Fine. This is Sheila.

CASAREZ: Sheila!

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Sheila, yes.

CASAREZ: I`m sorry.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Please don`t confuse me with Sheeba. Please, please, please.

CASAREZ: Sheila in Illinois. Hi.

http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/1003/30/ng.01.html

the equation with no variable

dear doing the math diary,

if i woke up and you were at my door, it would take me several minutes to decide whether or not to answer it and even then, i might not. i think i would want to know what you intended on saying before i heard your voice. that way i could better prepare myself for the upcoming lies. i think you lied so much because you salted and peppered your food so much. people that have to change the flavor of their food at the table just lie more and make shit up. i remember how your food used to stink up the whole table when you ate. i remember that time you came and begged me to forgive you for lying about the trip you took with cuntface. how i wish i wouldn't have let you in that day. how if all the days i could choose to do over again, that would be the one. i failed the very first test that day- and set the curve very low- and after that you pushed me to see how far i would go. you pushed me til i broke in two- and then you shit on me, and when i'd had enough and stood up, then you get to BLAME ME?  ok. i may have to accept all of this shit- IN A LEGAL COURT OF LAW, BUT YOU'RE STILL A PIECE OF TINY DICK SHIT AND I STILL HAVE THAT AFTER ALL. and i get to resume my same life that i had before you crawled in... nothing really changed for me any, i just committed another nasty sin. there is so much more i want to say, but you know right now- why bother. in time i might- but now why write anymore about how perfect you are. everyone knows already.

phenomenal outcome

dear oh and hay diary,

if you got bored at work yesterday, i hope you thought about all the crackhead scumbag bitches that will come through there (your OTHER JOB) this summer and you'll be able to fill up that little black book so fast. mac daddy be gettin down on some smack grabby and anybody thankin you ain't- be livin in a dream kitchen cookin with betty crocker and you the sweet talker. honey comes from the bees ass baby and shit pours out of yours and your mouth too- by the way it looks- you're gettin way too old to be ridin that wanna be thang you ride on- you looked 60 not 50 and i aint being shitty. graduation is tonight, i remember when you called me from kidney's a fright, things are much different on the home front all right. KISS MY WHITE FLAT STUPID CLEAN FUNKY WHORE ASS, my kid is graduatin TOO, imagine that- HE DID SOMETHING WITHOUT YOU. i may be dumb, i may be stupid, but at least i didn't lie and cheat to GET A PIECE OF ASS. so i hope you sat there ALL DAY, yes ALL MOTHER FUCKING DAY LONG, KNOWING... I AM UGLY WITH MY HAIR UP. 

i think i go home with you.... let me see your arm again

dear how does that go again diary,

you know once that thing wears off that it will be a whole new game dontcha? did you picture me chewin my gum really hard and fast when i was sayin that last part? cuz i sure was while i was typin it. oh that fucking 2:30AM train is RIGHT ON TIME and i sure am up to hear it- guess who else is up- THE SNAKE. that bitch. i can still see the marks on my finger- butcha gotta really look hard for them, but i do. she is looking for her driftwood to crawl around and itch on, well as a punishment for biting at me- she will do without her tree for a week- or longer if i forget- and then i'll put it back in. she can play on her hangers and in her tub and against the lid if she gets itchy. i saw the real unibomber ted made the new again yesterday. that sucks. he gives my unibomber a bad name- this ted fella. fuck him and his homegrown bullshit. i don't know much about him cept what everyone else does. i call my unibomber the unibomber because he often destroys our property, wears a hoodie, and rarely shaves. plus, he is on my top ten wanted list- i have pictures of his dumb ass from the last twenty three years hanging up of a man that if you saw- you would wonder who the pictures were of- and he could be the one showing them to you. his appearance changes daily. sometimes i can only recognize him by his shoes and socks. maybe that is why some spouses let their spouses get tattoos, to help better identify them at the end of a long night.

SHEEBA FROM ILLIONOIS (fucking has a fan club)

dear fucking sheeba in illinois diary,

omg. this is some shit. my passions for sheeba have been dormant for some time now, as i have given my obsession with nancy a break for a moment and then the demon from within would regain life and bring me to my knees with feelings i thought were for months, or at least weeks, DEAD. i usually only do the whole nancy grace thing when there are babies missing- or moms who've been abducted, strangled, or shot in the vaginal area by their boyfriend. then, when that's the case, at 7:01PM, it is a race between me and SHEEBA FROM ILLINOIS, to see who gets through to nancy first. THEN SO... tonight i found out that there is a fan page on facebook http://www.facebook.com/home.php?sk=group_104426692494  and i had such a good time there. i cant believe i wasn't the only one who noticed sheeba got through EVERY OTHER DAY OF THE WEEK. i am simply honored and amazed to be a part of such a great community. i think all my stawkers should join there and tell them the whore sent you.

stay sick iffin you want!
sheeba!
it was BACK SURGERY!

we all try to drown

dear weebles wobble diary,

sometimes i tip over when i am walking around. i don't necessarily fall over that often, but it has happened. it hurts too. but i have never broke anything more than a finger, toe, or fingernail or toenail. i have banged up various parts of my body and bit through my bottom lip a time or two, oh yeah, and i have a big bald spot on the permanent lump on the back of my head- but other than that- no other damage- yet that i can remember. i ain't worried about it- i know it would be way worse if i were a drinker. thank goodness i hate alcohol. i love having bangs. i don't know why i didn't cut off my hair and make bangs a long time ago. people always ask me what i did different to my hair- i think it is obvious- i cut my bangs off again finally. i tipped over and banged myself all up again and this is what i look like now.

contempt of court

dear several months into the blog diary,

the emails never stop coming. i still don't answer them because i am scared it is a trap- a set up- but i will admit to feeling a bit less entrapped since the appearance the hero made april 29th- but i still find myself reserved when wanting to reply to any of the wonderful emails. i let my mind play out what it would be like if the stupid fucker tried to say i did something to him now- now after the judge saw him stalk ME at MY court date. i think that would be a really fun day in the courtroom, if you were to ask me, but nobody ever does, and i wouldn't even get a lawyer. i wouldn't. i wouldn't even get dressed for court! i'd show up naked with a fruit basket.

people named karen SUCK

dear once a year diary,

about every six months or so, my dad takes off and goes off with his buddy for an all day trip and that is when i sneak over there and break in (with my key) and start doing dumb shit that needs to be done. last time there was a witness to the terrifically hurried event, karen is her name and she unfortunately heard foul words coming from my sweet little mouth and everything. i have known karen since i was pizza pan sized- actually i think she was the second or third one to meet me after my parents got me and brought me home and sat me on the table. now all these years later, karen, she is the only witness to the theft of the outrageous garbage that had surmounted and the sailor mouth that directed the unibomber of what NOT to take. my dad was SUPER PISSED i took his stacks of twined newspapers and shit, but he didn't need any of it, and we certainly didn't begin to even make a dent that day. then when dad and i had breakfast day before yesterday, guess what he said to me, in verbatim he said, "youns need to come over and get to stealing more stuff out of my garage, so i can park in there on the north side." i kinda laughed, i know he'll turn red faced and pissed off no matter what i take, throw away, recycle, donate, or even move, but i agreed nevertheless. then he added- with a pointed stubby little finger held kindof towards me, "and you can keep that little potty mouth of yours hushed up while you're doin it this time too." you know, i always knew that karen lady was a snitch- even if she is NICE.

whore lotta cupcake ANT-I sumthin?

dear if i were a cupcake diary,

i would be made of poison and a trap for ants. i would set myself out on the porch and let them bitches eat me all up. crumb by fabulous crumb, the stupid ants would carry me away for the last time, back to their hills, to their ancient ant pyramids where all the elder ants wait to feast at the ant tables. they would all die and i would be the cupcake 'whero.' SHOUT OUT ANTFACE!

69 bed rock

dear i could now return to the bed diary,

why do i even get up? i get tired an hour and nine minutes after i wake, seems to me i should prolly just wait it out- consider it a layover. i really don't want to go back to bed, but my eyeballs are crossing and staying closed longer in between blinks and all that jazz. i am getting the message loud and clear. i cant believe how many boxes we have finally unpacked in the basement. when i bought this house and we moved in here, we threw everything from our huge farmhouse into the basement. honestly, i hadn't planned to be here that long. TEN YEARS LATER, i am now finding myself unpacking in the house i almost own. it happens i suppose. it is a good thing i bought a nice house. but i have all this stuff in a tiny little house. i have enough for three houses and condensing doesn't seem to be working out very well- i find myself keeping and repacking everything i go through. i love all my shit. i have the coolest shit ever. and it turns out, i've been collecting rocks now for many many years- there were special rocks in nearly every box.

craving a rice crispy treat?

dear i believe in magic diary,

marshmallows are a good example of magic and wicked magic at that. if you leave a marshmallow out on the counter for a week and propel that bitch at someone with a slingshot, you CAN fuck somebody up. you can. yet, if you eat the bitch straight from a sealed bag- it's like eating a mouth pillow. oh fuck, put a little heat to the bitch and watch out- a mouth orgasm. you know, as i sit here and think, a marshmallow could very well be the food analogy to a female orgasm and the magic of the whole process. sometimes there are miniature ones and sometimes there are 'jet puffed' ones and sometimes there are the ones that are so big, "you CAN fuck somebody up." i believe i may be on to something here.

hot to trot (on a cot)

dear it is warmer outside today diary,

waking up, i never expected the mail to have gone this early, but it did. so i went out and got it. the sunshine almost blinded me and it was hotter than i wanted it to be. i need to water my plants. i will later. i keep hearing a dog barking. i hate dogs that bark. i feel bad for dogs that get left outside and chained to trees or put in dog kennels and then forgotten about. i've never had a restrained animal, neither one of mine even wear collars. collars make the grump uncomfortable- he itches when he has them on. i slip them both into a harness when we go for a walk, but becky comes out of hers when we get down the road- she doesn't need a leash to walk- i take it off of her, it gets in her way. why have a dog if you ain't gunna let it in your bed. becky is sleeping right here next to me now- content and happy and i wouldn't change a single thing.

braVo

dear tender is the night diary,

now that it really is 2am again and i can hear the quiet train in a duet with a harley goin down the highway, with becky's tummy singing a solo and now the stupid train horn and sudden excel of the loud ass train is taking everything out. it is weird, kinda hard to believe i get such a clear earfull- beins i'm this far away from all of the action. but i hear everything. i'd sure hate to live any closer. for reals. i get tons of rubber traffic where i am at though, everything but the city bus and sometimes i get that. i swear- the fire trucks drive by here three times a day just to fuck with me. the tornado siren is around the corner too, oh and don't forget the school band down the ways- they practice OUTSIDE at 9am for fucks sake. that's one good thing about summer- at least it is your own damn kid playin music keepin you awake.

blooming-a-ton

dear if you knew what i knew diary,

if you knew what i knew then i betcha you'd either think you were really smart or really fucking dumb. you surly have an opinion by now, so... which is it. prolly really fucking dumb. good. that is what i want you to think. now.don't you feel so much better knowing the world doesn't depend on you? go get some weed and smoke it for me and let me know how that makes you feel. feel stupid yet? here let me try this. if you fucked me and i was stupid, but you liked it and i liked it, would you fuck me again if i let you? not a trick question. ok then, that was prolly a hard one. if you bought a flower at the store, planted it, it grew and bloomed, wouldn't you look at it? more than once? of course it would be okay if you didn't. and it is.

sink that ship daddy

dear higher than high profile diary,

being a bigtime whore has a whole bunch of benefits, but there are limitations too. like for instance, there are a limited amount of clients i can serve in a period of one day. sometimes i can squeeze in a few extra, but not often, not when i want to provide the quality service each deserve. then there is becky. omg becky. and she takes up every other free moment of my day- which i willingly give up to her. sometimes i wish i had named her anything but becky, but she looks so much like a becky- no other name would prolly work for her. being an independent contracting whore is hard too, because keeping all your own appointments straight can sure be a task. thankfully the hero set me up and i follow his general mold of how he juggled things and i have to admit, he knew his shit. i've found the less you share, the less you tend to repeat, you know that's why i blabber like a fuck from hell here. that way it doesn't even tempt me to run my mouth on the job, i stay focused and get the hell out of dodge. ain't that right.

digital video recordin MIRRORS

dear mirrors that can record diary,

ima invent the damn DVRM here in my house sos i set my mirrors to record at certain times of the day when i am gone and  them bitches will just reflect back to me the goings on round here. cuz i know there is some funkified shit goin on i don't know about and ima find out what it is and then ima know. see what i'm sayin? i am sick of this shit. my people get by with all kinds of the dumbshit and i am tired of living like this. people do act different when they think you ain't watching them. i know cuz i am a people watching mother fucker. i like to watch people in secret. people crack me up. especially when they eat and argue. ain't nothing better than a couple arguin while they eatin though- now that really is the best. i like it when the food starts flyin off the table and out of their mouth. it's on. bitch will start swinging a chicken finger- you know that's the real shit right there.

cowboys and elephants

dear are we willing to fight diary,

they want me to talk to them, but i cant. a cryptanthus zonatus brazilian epiphytal bromeliad is one of THE single most beautiful flowers i have ever seen. i shouldn't have dropped my guard, but i had no way to keep the containers on the porch. i have never seen a a cryptanthus brazilian epiphytal bromeliad with more than a single bloom on one plant at a time. i think i should do what i have always done. seems like so many leaves to make just that one big assed flower. i knew the tv would be loud as fuck when that bitch came on. taking the plant to a new location will prolly shock it. i feel like fucking something up in my yard after i put my earplugs in and take my nightly dose of abilify, but abilify is not for everyone and thankfully, i am not everyone cuz then- i wouldn't have enough. flowers add great color to an otherwise dull life. lifelong friends can be found in plants and animals. but elephants are so big- they cant sleep in the bed very well.

at the gas station

dear brave in the face of the braver diary,

i called the biggest black fella a 'bitch' tonight and i might have prolly meant it. but he stole off with my friends shoes one time while back and tried to speak to her tonight and when he got brave and asked her why she would not ever speak to him when he spoke to her- she told him she would speak to him again when he returned her bad ass tennis shoes she had left up in his ride. he reminded her that time had passed and that is when i had to step in and remind him that my friend still had feet and he was a bitch for keeping a woman's shoes. honestly i really couldn't tell if he didn't much like that or what, but for a minute- my heart did beat faster when he approached my friend to ask her who had just called him a bitch, but i saw the corner of his mouth turn up- i think it made him smile- my sudden outburst for her shoes.  

mother fucker

dear junk yard blues diary,

wearing my 'not so yellow shirt' to the salvage yard today to visit captain todd, i realized i might have missed my calling in life. THE place where i prolly could have worked and been happily employed my whole life. captain todd and i prolly would have made quite the freak couple too, in bed as well, i'd safely bet, as he looked to be one gifted mother fucker and a fine mate to buddy up and have the children with, if i do say so myself- and i just did. yes captain todd can be the engineer of my whore ship anydamn time he is ready, but i am done bearing the offspring. we can pay for somebody else to do that shit. i felt right at home underneath his front counter, i could have stayed there all day. maybe i will go back tomorrow.

i wear ripped up shirts

dear driving away fast diary,

i am not the type of person to buy dying foliage, so why would a store try and sell some sick ass looking plants? people don't buy ripped up shirts. i dunno maybe it is the challenge of bringing the sickly plant back to radiant beauty? i have feelings for growing things. i understand more everyday how important each system is to the plant; the roots and dirt, the stems or stalk, the leaves and the water- how it all works together. if one system is fucked up- something goes wrong and the plant gets sick and looks like shit. it kinda mirrors the intimate relationship between soul mates; the trust and honesty, the love, the mutual admiration and the respect- how it all works together and in this system too, if one system goes wrong- it all goes to shit. first the intimacy goes- then the honesty, then the mutual admiration, and bye-bye respect. i don't think the love ever really goes anywhere, at least it doesn't for me.

i'll use my head next time

dear preparing for today diary,

that wont be hard. i have nothing to prepare for- except holding my hand out to receive. i will apply extra lotion to make sure my hands are so soft and ready to accept the monetary gifts that will bestow upon me. these days, i consider all income a gift, whether i worked for it or it fell in my lap. money comes quite easily to me and i don't know why that is, it always has. i was blessed in that respect, although i don't have much extra it seems the ends somehow always meet. i prepare for each day like i prepare for the last, i know what i am doing tomorrow and i guess that is what keeps me in line with the ends and knowing they will always meet up. sometimes though i have a bit of luck- and boy does that throw a wrench into things. like earlier i found my old calendar (the one with ALL THE GOLD STARS) and there was a note written in the back. it said, "*note to self- fries extra crispy catchup and salt."

the sacrificial lamb of ELMO

dear i gave the grump an ELMO doll and haven't seen him since diary, 

the grump came downstairs to do his usual stance deal, the one where he gets dead in your way and wont move, and he wouldn't move. i was prepared this time- more so than the other eight thousand times, because i'd found an ELMO doll that one of the dogs at the farm had ripped the arm off of and for some reason i'd kept. i had it waiting for the next time he came down to pester me while i was trying to do something productive, or otherwise, and i'll be damned if my trick didn't work. i believe that was a little after 10pm, the last time anyone has even seen the grump, ELMO clutched hard in his chomps. it hasn't been this quiet in this house since he spent the night at the vet, oct. 11, 2006, after he got his tooth knocked out by that car as he crossed the road without looking at 6am. i know that i still haven't seen him yet, and i ain't looking for him either. ima buy him a fucking ELMO doll every day if that's what it takes to get him off my ass for three glorious hours.

proof in the picture

dear finding baby shoes and blankets and tiny t-shirts diary,

going through all that shit in the basement is fun, but it's making me cry. i had to call prince william and tell him all the stuff i found and i found a bunch. the little leather eastland shoes made me burst out in tears. i fucking couldn't take it. i remember both the boys wearing them. i don't care if that kid comes out a boy or a girl or by gawd, one of both, that little shit will wear them shoes everytime it comes here. iffin i had my way, the little fucker would come out and put them right on, then wear them on home, even though they'd be a bit big for a while, eventually they would fit. i fucking love them shoes and i want a pair. but they just don't look right for big people, i have seen them. it is hard finding little shoes for people who are big now. those shoes no longer fit the feet for who they were bought for, yet i still have them. i will always have them. i am crying again because the feet of my children are large and i could not stop this. but i can prove they were little once.

next week is fine

dear and if you think that, then you are dumb diary,

do you think i would have figured it out faster then if i were a brain surgeon? i don't. actually, i'd prolly still be fucking the little dick mother fucker because brain surgeons are busy little whores and distracted easily by their work. they live in REVERSE dog years, so one year to us is actually seven to them and that is why doctors and politicians and movie stars seem to have much longer illicit affairs, believe me- it is NOT because the sex is so good- it is because it is so infrequent.

content until crowded; now chopping

dear if that is the way it has to be then fuck it fine diary,


whoa, now there is an entry i don't want to fuck with. joy to the world i have a new house. well getting there anyway. what a difference a clean basement were to make in the whole giant world of things. i have now seen items from my life i have not seen since 1994, and earlier and now i feel fucking reestablished, or at least i did until the fucking fire trucks just went blaring by. them son of a bitching heroes can ruin a good thing no matter what it is- or where it's at. fuck me stupid. i think i will now make and prolly consume a meatloaf to generate feelings of worth again. someone surely will understand my line of thinking here, the reminiscing, the contentment, THE POST TRAUMATIC STRESS, and now the strong urge to make a meatloaf- a chopped up pile of dead cow, baked and topped with sweet red catchup. somehow it all ties together and so off i go. amen.

my all purpose companion

dear clean up diary,

mopping a muddy floor ain't so bad when you use the bathtub as a mop bucket. i am serious. i pulled the hottest water available and added bleach and just started mopping. i wasn't mopping to get the floor clean, i just wanted some dirt up. well, three bathtubs later- i sure got my wish and the basement floor looks nice. however my bathtub looks awful. it'll clean though, i am certainly not worried about it. it was nice having a bucket big enough to handle my job. i have never seen a mop so dirty in all of my days. i never thought having a bathtub would come in so handy, but boy it sure does. you can just use that bitch for anything. it truly is the most magnificent lover.

i did that again

dear whip me again and again diary,

i just woke up from nap where i could fly again and i swear to all of you right now- I DID NOT WANT TO WAKE UP. it really was that good. i believe i was resting as well, but even if i wasn't, it felt like i was. i rang my dad's new doorbell 600 times today and he claims them to be the same bells-but it sounds different to me. it is much much louder- we both agreed on that. i dunno, i don't ring the doorbell and haven't heard it for so many years- maybe it is the same 'ding dong,' but it sure sounds different. he said i still ring it the same way i did when i was a kid. it was kindof weird when he said that, cuz right when he did, i was feeling like i did when i was a kid- only much taller. i just kept on dinging it- i couldn't stop- i didn't even want to... he said the same thing when i dumped syrup all over my bacon at breakfast, "you still put pancake syrup all over your food? you used to do that when you was growin up all the time." i kindof laughed and looked up when i was done dumpin, "yup daddy. there's a whole lot of stuff i still do that you taught me." he replied, (with ALL seriousness,) "i did not teach you that."

pinky swear

dear where do wishes go diary,

when stars aren't available to wish upon, i usually wish upon a rock. i can always find a rock to cast my wish on. while it has been scientifically proven that star wishes come true faster, rock wishes can come true after a bit more time yes, but they can be twice as strong and much sweeter. when a wish is written on a paper and stuffed away it could be forgotten about. ultimately making any wish come true is all up to you- the wish maker.

if you wish

dear lighting up while you still can diary,

a tiny bubble followed me from the kitchen as i sat down finally to share my thoughts with you brave mind soldiers who read my drivel everyday, prolly hoping for some juicy porn you are when you come here, but instead find some useless babble, and for that i don't apologize at all- for porn for the most part is best when it exists only in the confines of the mind- where it is unlimited in where it can go and how much it can satisfy. i am always disappointed by pornography in real time- it lacks that personal connection and complete feeling of, 'i could do that,' for me it does anyway. the unibomber can fuck like a porn star- but i never could. i like being fucked like a porn star- i'm pretty used to that. in return i can give the head like a porn star.

the grumpy pacer

dear stirred up diary,

the grump is all worked up about something. i slapped his balls whila go just to see if i could and HE LET ME, so that was fun. i did it for a couple of minutes and he just stood there. if i didn't know any better, i'd say he enjoyed it. and i don't  know any better, so let's just leave it at that. i ain't had a bath in two days. well, i take that back, had the bath, ain't washed the hair, prolly do that later. i have got to do the driver's licence deal. i hope there ain't no test or nothing. my luck there will be. hopefully some smart kid will be taking his test and i can just kinda look over there if i have any problems. i'm sure he'll be eager to help a whore. i don't even want to leave the fucking house and i wasted a whole safe day today. fuck me. i suppose i could wait and go friday. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE.

where the view is the greatest

dear if i had a mountain diary,

if i woke up every morning to a mountain. i would take upon the duty of everyday running outside and making sure nothing had changed. i would do a full circle panoramic scan and take in everything i could and notice every detail on every scale- from the biggest to the smallest. i would for as long as i lived there- to record my time there- so the land would never forget me. i would forever be a ring in the trees- all of them would be a part of me. you think we are the only ones to take pictures of subjects. ahh, but stop. subjects take pictures of us- did you know... so smile and i mean A LOT. your home knows who you are- as do the boards of which it is made. as do the trees in the yard where you live now- or where you grew up- the ones that gave you shade. be wicked in your ways and you shall splinter in the first real storm, be passive, strong and gentle and you will be weathered and worn. my endless love and admiration for that which i adore- will prolly be the reason i will always be a whore. but i will walk along here waiting until your boat comes to shore.

going down? again?

dear training along diary,

there goes the train again and man i wish i was on that bitch eating a turkey club sandwich and ice tea with no sugar. i hate sugar in my tea and the other day the unibomber found a wire in his burrito at the mexican food place. so that sucked for him. all i got was rice, so i ate mine. he left,, which made dinner actually better anyway- afterall it was my birthday. it kinda did suck though, i had to be the one to complain and all that. so whatever. then he was hungry all night and i had to listen to him bellyache about being starved to death. whatever. what the fuck ever. you know we really are happy. yup. i tell myself that everyday. he's nice. someday he will get a haircut, but i will still call him the unibomber. i will never call him the troll though like the hero used to. he is not a troll because to me, he is not a doll. i think the hero was obsessed with the uniibomber the whole time and like the taste of him anyway- if you know what i am sayin. and i think you do. eww.

i don't think so TIM (says becky with a butcher knife and becky ain't the dog)

dear i'm dreaming of a white memorial day diary,

maybe it will snow at the end of may, you never do know. it almost snowed sunday. i almost tacked up sheets on my porch and ran a heater. i felt awful for my plants. they seem ok. i sure do love them bitches and i got a jungle i cant wait to share with you guys. this year it's the plants- next year- it'll be the baby. i dunno what to do with the snake. seems like now would be as good of time as any to find a nice swell home for it, but like with everything else i love- it's hard to trust someone will care for it in the same way i do and shit- sometimes i think even that leaves a LOT to be desired. then i see it over there in it's 60 gallons of glass and clean bedding and fresh tub of water and big ole rock and driftwood- knowing it just ate twenty bucks and left eleven fang marks in my bird finger.... and it wants to look at ME with them beady little eyes?  

bent snails

dear revealing identities in montebello diary,

somewhere out around my favorite city there is another town they call montebello. it is planted out on the shaky gold coast- my favorite part of our land. i would so much like to go there again with my son and my dad. now i can, omg thank goodness, but i don't want to again post about that, but i am sure i will later- it is one of my favorite topics, SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE and an extra quick 'go to hell.' anyway back to the post at hand you guys, somehow i drifted astray, oh look at that, the word astray looks like ashtray, that is funny. sortof. but sortof not. it is because i need one. i wish it worked like that in real life, you could write of what you need, i would address the paper for a hammer and an ashtray. i told you i needed one. the hammer i would secure in a handy tool belt for all my future hammering needs. i am so tired of using my ladybug rock for a hammer inner for nails and a fork as a puller outer for the ones i bend up with the ladybug rock hammerin them in cuz you never can beat them mother fuckers in straight with a rock painted up like a ladybug. and i never could find out who called me from montebello yesterday either. they should prolly call back.

the trenches with feeders

dear trouble ahead diary,

i am beginning to think of my readers as part of my conscious. like a cornish hen is really nothing but a small chicken, my readers are now brave mind soldiers who trample through my thoughts and help me sort out things that don't even belong in there. even though thoughts still come, and even tho people don't cut up and fry cornish hens- they are still chickens and just because i let soldiers wade through my brain now, doesn't make it any less of a brain. or does it?

night y'aLL

dear i will be taking a time out now diary,

i am going to take my nap now. i am not really tired, but if i don't, i wont be able to stay up til 4am and wouldn't that be a travesty. plus i am weak in the knees and both dogs are snoring and becky isn't a snorer. i haven't left the house all day and i was supposed to twice and couldn't do it. i just couldn't do it. the unibomber got mad both times. but at least i made it to the mail box. look at it this way k? when i leave and run around, i am a whore. and when i refuse to leave the house, i am retarded. i'm happy either way actually. maybe i'll just go out in the front yard and suck some peeters.

speak to the tragedy

dear think again diary,

sometimes when you think ahead it hurts to think behind. it's a very good question to think about insurance. do you have it? sometimes i wonder if i need flood insurance. i remember the last flooding we had you guys and the healing has just now transpired from the one 18 years ago and now this. the boundaries are pushing out- they really are growing. i guess we need to get out of the way or get above it or get really fucking smart because we need to stop gettin our ass kicked by a river. i'm just sayin. some shit we cant help, like earthfuckingquakes and tsunamis and hurricanes and tornadoes- but when you live by a river and it rains a whole bunch, wouldn't you expect the river to swell? give the rivers the space they need, even on their worst days, and respect those lines and never cross them- even on the best of days. dry days will come again and i am so sorry to my wet friends.... please find comfort in soft dry towels.

fuck a billfold

dear change in my pocket diary,

iffin i had all the money in the world, i mean tens of hundreds of gadzillions of dollars, i would still keep change in my pocket. without change, nothing would be different. i know that sounds fucking retarded, but it is so true. i keep searching for change and i always find it laying around everywhere- especially where i least expect it. but one thing that never changes is my pocket. i will never change my pocket because in order to keep the change you find, you must have a pocket. i try and always have an empty pocket- thus i am ready to find much change. i keep the dollars in my purse.

astrological shortcomings

dear sitting up straight diary,

thinking has no impact on me while i have nothing on my mind, but just as soon as i start wondering about something- my thoughts start racing and i find myself here so i can try and decode them. here i am, waiting with you, to see what will undoubtedly spew out. it'll be something dumb prolly, as usual- something we can all certainly live without. something no one will learn from. something no one will shed a single tear because of. something no one will laugh at. maybe a benchmark then of sorts, for me anyway, to mark this thin place in time, not that i want to ever come back here, but i may need a restore point someday. after all, everything seems to be working properly.

tiny poodle puppy

dear growl at me diary,

the grump let me hold and hug him for several minutes before he started his bullshit growling at me, which is way longer than he usually lets me touch him. i think it is because i did not tell him i loved him while i was holding him. he is a very vocal dog and wants to 'talk' back after and during every interaction. i ain't afraid of him when he growls like he does, but strangers are. it just sounds terrible when he starts it up and really gets going. i counted 16 seconds where he held his breath inbetween loud ass snores last night. i almost jumped up cuz i thought he was dead and then he gasped in for air. i have a sneaking suspicion that is how the grump will pass away- he will forget to breathe while he is sleeping. he is pretty old now. i dunno how long they live, or when they lose their mind, but he's got a great start at losing his mind, i am sure of that shit. i used to tell him he was a great poodle and i think that is what started all of our issues right there.

college of dream chickens

dear good morning diary,

every fingernail is perfect but my bird finger, the same one that got bit by the snake the other day, it has a scratch across the center of the nail from an unknown source. i haven't been up seven minutes and there is a mega scratch on my favorite nail. what a way to start a day. ima leave it though, because in seven more minutes there will be eight more scratches on nine more nails and then they will all match but one. problem solved. i hate the color i have on today and i am only wearing it to match my new yellow shirt i haven't worn yet. ima have my new driver's license picture taken in it today- since they were closed yesterday. i got chicken out to cook on the grill, ima marinate that shit and it is gonna be so good. i was dreaming just a bit ago and realized i was experiencing feelings i've only felt one other time in my whole live. i was intoxicating-ly in love- and then- the car i was driving, (which wasn't mine) suddenly went into a snowy ditch. that is when i woke up and found the scratch across my bird finger and realized, it is not winter outside and there IS no snow. affirmation again that i am living in the correct season.

baby love

dear it will always be different from now on diary,

pretty soon there will be a little nursery here again and a car seat for the car. pretty soon my airplane bag will double as a diaper bag and we'll need a stroller for the mall. honestly i never saw it coming this soon, but just the otherday- i shed a tear because i wished i could have another baby someday. so when the news fell into my lap, it shocked me- but i wasn't mad. i knew that i could help take care of another child and it kindof made me glad. my father who is older now- their lives will overlap, that to me means more than i can explain- that child will have a connection to the past. one more person who know and loved my mom will hold and love him dearly. i'll never forget seeing my dad hold my son- that very first time, i could see my mom over his shoulder looking down at them in Heaven's light- I hope to see that beautiful scene again on Christmas night.





my aim toothpaste sucks

dear ain't falling for that shit diary,

what is that up there in the sky flying around like that? a bird maybe? be a man and shoot it down and find out or i will. i need to know. it looks like a bat or some shit. if it is a bat get it- and make it shit- i need new mascara. that is what they make mascara out of you know, batshit. covergirl does anyway. then they don't need to test it on animals- you see? cuz technically it came from an animal, thus eliminating the need to then again test the product on an animal. and y'all thought i was stupid. just cuz i don't like bread don't mean i ain't part duck. fuck. i can swim AND float. i can hold my breath for a LONG ass time and that is why i can suck a mean ass dick. i love to slobber too. the wetter- the better. i heard the older you get the dryer you're supposed to get 'down there,' but so far THAT AIN'T HAPPENIN. but i sure will be glad when it does. geez. it's so hard to say, "um.... no thank you," when your pants clearly are sayin, "you better, they're only gettin wetter."

scapegoat

dear taking the blame for every other whore in town diary,

victory ain't mine cuz i never went after it yet. what is the prize anyway? i like prizes, just not surprises. so i think i got shut off at work using the wireless internet because somebody thought i was using it to look at porn. fucking somebody prolly walked by while my page was loading up and saw the word 'whore' and called their pastor to complain. i hate people. i really do. i been using the internet at work for years- been buyin purses and posting on craigland and everything else, oh but as soon as i wanna do something i LOVE to do... i get shut off. it is always like that you know. i am used to it. i seriously do not care. that is why i have internet at home. people are jealous. that is why they complain. you can buy a kit to be just like me at wal-mart- it comes with a big red nose and a clown hat. i'll bet you there were lots of whores who done way worse things than i ever done with the 'hero/husband of the year,' but i am the one who gets the lifetime achievement award. omfg i cant wait til that bitch gets hung on my wall.

don't panic- it is JUST my dream

dear second good idea diary,

in my next life on my wedding day, i too will be a breathtaking princess. i will. and i will make my husband a king and then i will be a queen- but i will never stop being a princess. i was on my way to bed and i saw my phone light up and i almost didn't look at it. it never bothers me when people send me shit because it doesn't make a sound and i like it that way. even though i don't have much to hide these days, it still gives me a panic attack when an unknown number calls or sends me something. i always have a wave of guilt that comes over me and i am certain that a princess would have a servant for that type of shit. that moon sure was somethin tonight and it ain't even supposed to be full till tomorrow. if i wouldn't have looked up i prolly would have missed that big bitch. when i am a queen i will have a ring that big and when i put my pantyhose on, i will always have to have my servant hold my moon size ring because otherwise it will but runs in my hose and that would look stupid on a princess.

the end of the day

dear the times here are weird diary,

the day on blogger begins at 7pm, for my page anyways, i dunno about others. so all my days statistics start over again at 7pm everyday and that screws with my head sometimes because it just is a funny time to start over. i did a load of bleach laundry today that made the whole house smell like it had been sanitized. what a treat after the pancake syrup smell from yesterday. ima hide those  stinking coffee beans. i saw a hummingbird on the porch drinking out of the feeder the unibomber made. he got a hard on when i told him. she was a good sized hummingbird too, prolly a momma i told him. i never heard one hum before. i've never heard a mockingbird mock either. i've never heard a duck- duck, but i have heard that woodpecker bangin on that telephone pole and i do wish he would move to a quieter area. i believe he would have more success pokin his deal in a tree. at the end of the day, i suppose it doesn't matter what time it is, as long as things get wrapped up, counted up, or screwed up.

random whoresome thoughts

dear considering the facts diary,

i am telling you, i mean, i don't know this for certain, but i am pretty sure about everything i run my fat ass mouth about, if you take everything into consideration before you pass judgement, then there is that possibility that you and everyone else wont believe it anyway. so why say anything at all? i'm not like that. if i see you out in public, i will say high to you or flip you off or honk or throw out trash from my car or something to acknowledge your existence. i wouldn't let you go unnoticed. then if you don't wanna hear what i have to say- you don't have to listen- especially now that i have a blog- you can go home and read. i should have got this bitch years ago, omfg, just think how much time i would have saved not talking.

message inbox

dear messages on my phone diary,

i woke up to twenty eight text messages on my phone and four missed calls. steve, my old boyfriend wrote me- he was the first one i text back. SHOUT OUT STEVE!! i am really cool with all my exes- EXCEPT THE ONE- and somehow i don't think he and i would have any problems if cuntface failed to exist. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. but anyway, i couldn't make it through one whole day without saying 'hello' to her- could i? nope, so i might as well do it again then... SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. my fingernails look like shit and i hate them. for one, they are only painted with a single coat. they are weak in color. it sure is a beautiful day today, the bestest day ever for a birthday- if you were going to have one today. i suppose i will. it isn't the day i would have chosen, but it was the day assigned. it usually is a glorious day on my day and i never can figure out why. it always rains on everyone elses. i guess there still could be a 'play of the day,' you never do know.

thanks mom

dear what time did you come out diary,

i got here at three thirty three in the morning. so that prolly explains why my whole life i flavored the number three like who done it, but didn't know it until i was twenty two when i met the bitch that birthed me. i think there's a picture somewheres back in the archives. hang on- fuckit i'll look. i can find it faster than any of y'alls. yup here it is... click to see the pic  that's me and my mom- the one that didn't raise me. i am so lucky she didn't. i had a wonderful life. but i didn't know it til i met her. now ain't that fucked up on every level?

be cafeful what you jew for

dear a plant i wanted the other day diary,

so i was at the farmer's market (here in town, not in hollywood damnitall) and i was going apeshit (like i always do) and i wanted to get a wandering jew (my last post made me remember this post). but here's the deal, i already had my worm plant (see below from either last year or the year before i cant remember) and that was the day i got the tomato plants and some bedding plants, so i was spunt- no more cash. i thought about tossing the wandering jew over the fence, but since i no longer participate in such behaviors (for another 17 months) i quickly got over my yearning for the wandering jew and went to pay for my shit and proceeded to the exit at which time I FOUND A BUNCH STARTS IN THE PARKING LOT from a wandering jew JUST LAYING THERE. so i gathered them all up and brought them home and now i have my very own wandering jew plant that wandered home with me and its growing like a champion jew.

the lost lady

dear happiness happens by accident diary,

whenever i plan to be happy, i might as well plan to attend a funeral because it always ends up sucking donkey dick. actually sucking donkey dick would prolly be more joyful than trying to be happy. have you ever actually sat down and tried to be happy? it is fucking hard to do. it's like trying to... oh i don't know, speak mandarin chinese when all you know is german. there is this one lady at work and she keeps getting lost and cant find her table all the time and people have to help her back to her seat. i know i shouldn't laugh, but she shouldn't get up and wander around either. why does that make me happy? i think it is because i know she is safe and nothing will happen to her and it is so funny to see her with her hands on her hips lookin all over for her seat. nobody else thinks it is funny, but she does it every night and every night i laugh. sometimes i look forward to watching her get lost all night and wait to see it happen. i call her the 'lost lady.' tonight she looked like she had shit her pants and that really made my day. upon closer inspection we think her sweatpants were just really dirty because she didn't smell, but they looked like they could have been shit stained at some point. i have shit my pants before, but honestly, my shit doesn't stain.

candles on my cake

dear all i will ever be diary,

goodbye age of yesterday. one day closer to the end of my days and yes, i do remember my former life as i do expect to remember this one. how traumatic will it be? as bad as the beginning- let us hope not, at least not for everyone else again... my entrance into this world brought such turmoil into a time when things were supposed to be so quiet then. with time they will get quiet again, maybe after i go, but you know, while i am here there will always be noise- the static drives some crazy and it shows. goodbye to the frustrations i felt an hour ago, i feel wiser and less ashamed in this day. for i know i will always be a whore and i was destined to be this way. goodbye to my long lost forever love- i will set your soul free to inspire any and all other whores in town for you to catch their pussy on fire. but the one thing i will hold forever dearest to my heart, that connection i will never throw to the curb, is my special woman to woman feeling i have towards CUNTFACE, my emotion for her is beyond superb.

billie jean 8 my jelly bean

dear so they say diary,

i sure am ready to listen to some music. not just any music either. i'm in the mood for some old country music again. the statler brothers would be good or some johnny cash or even porter wagoner, but the oak ridge boys- they're just so modern- i don't want to hear that shit- i want the old school- tom t. hall- buck owens- here you go, eddie arnold.... mmmmm. yup i was raisined right. it is sad but true. most women my age thumb their noses up at the good music, not me, i like it too. all my friends poke fun at me when i pick them up and have tammy wynette playin in the cd player, but the next time i come- i'll have gucci man or judas priest or motorhead or alice in chains or lil wayne playin. you just never know. i just feel like it's my party and i wanna listen to what makes me smile. if you caint be with the one you love, at least love what you let swim through your ears. go on take the money and run. plus this is the last post i will ever make before i turn the age you were when i met you. vomit in my throat. you are what, the herpe number now? blister in the sun.

burnt heavy syrup

dear i hate the way my house smells diary,

when i walked in after work tonite, the smell took me over. it was that strong. it stunk like pancake syrup and i like pancake syrup- ON PANCAKES- but not as a room freshener. thank you. turns out the fuckface unibomber has gone and bought some kind of flavored coffee bean (which must also be ground) and this is what has the whole house in an aromatic fuckfest of which- i am not liking. at all. it stinks. this makes the second time i have smelled the horrid smell and this time is much much worse. last time, i thought it was just the creamer or syrupy shit he leads it up with- now i know. the unibomber loves kitchen gadgets. i think a kitchen really only needs a toaster and a mixer and a microwave and crock pot. we have to have an ice crusher, electric knife, seal-a-meal, vegetable grinder/chopper, juicer, egg dicer, tomato slicer, pineapple corer, ice cream scoop, coffee grinder, cappuccino maker, coffee pot (that brews in 20 seconds) toaster oven, meat slicer, pizza oven, portable roaster oven, steamer, meat grinder, two electric skillets, and a fry daddy. but we cant keep a blender and i hate coffee and 99.9% fried foods. i am into fried green beans right now, omg, they are the shit.

a message in a wrong type can

dear can in front of my car diary,

i no longer drink pepsi. i drink coke now. pepsi in my throat tastes like it has medication in it, like someone put a roofie in it. i don't like roofies and i have never even had one. the date rape drug i take every night is mixed with water and tastes very salty. it is nasty. i don't like it either, but it makes me get the kind of sleep that we humans require. the kind of sleep i get all day is purely recreational sleep that i could prolly do without, if i tried. but i say it is a much better quality of life when i sleep more than less- so fuck it- let me sleep. but finding that can there- strategically placed like it was- there was no cans by any other vehicles. yet i dunno- i used to drink throwback pepsi- but no longer, it makes me throwup. next time, i'll know for certain there was a message if the can strategically left is a coke.

the lighter side

dear it is a lovely day to be a whore,

when people come by to make personal appointments, it really puts you on the spot to work them in because you feel obligated to- because they've taken the time out of their day to stop by and all that, but i cant let them inside for the simple fact- they think their appointment will start now. i don't do walk in's. go away or stay out on the porch. that way there ain't no kind of funny business. i don't like the pressure of funny business anymore. i have found that after the funny business come the court papers, you cant make everyone happy. i got release forms now that i make all my new clients sign. first of all, any stawking is permitted. if i like that shit- ima chase it around and you ain't sayin a word about it. if you're married, you'll need to find yourself a different whore. and if i catch you lyin about your marital status, ima charge you double for your last appointment and you better hope you ain't one of my favorite clients.

beating the criteria

dear never be blog of the day diary,

i have already come to terms with the fact that i, TRIXIETHEWHORE, will never get the famed 'BLOG OF NOTE.'  dear diary of a retarded whore will never be recognized as one of GOOGLE'S GREATEST HITS and i pretty much wasn't thinking about that at all when i signed up here, and now is really the first time i've ever thought about it to this extent. i don't know what the criteria is for being a 'blog of note,' but i am sure drivelling and shouting out to cuntfaces and such ain't what they be lookin for. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. it is a good thing i started my blog for other reasons i haven't figured out yet or i would prolly be upset. so i dunno. ima just keep being the high quality, high content bullshit blog i been havin, so, 'blog your note' on that.

modus operandi

dear never believe it diary,

hotblocks, coldblocks, all blocks in between, i ain't scared to roll through a crime scene. maybe it is cuz i have the blonde hairs and i look so stupid i can get away with bein dumb. it has worked for this long- i ain't changin my 'mo' now. people always assume i am retarded and i am glad. i think that helps sometimes. i know it helps me complete tasks i personally do not want to finish. i know it gets me out of situations i would rather not be in. as i know it sometimes cushions my fall when i find myself on the way down. but last year i think it is what got me convicted of a crime i did not commit. but then on the same token, it got me out of the punishment anyone else would have been slapped with. ima keep right on using the same 'mo' as i been using my whole entire life. i thought about adopting a new one tomorrow, or polishing up the one i use now, but instead ima get my hair highlighted and sit back and relax because there really ain't much you can do to improve upon perfection.

sew them shut

dear i am still mad at my snake and wide awake diary,

i suppose now sleeping all day has a benefit, if you wanted to be awake all night for a reason. but again, i have no reason. so what will happen is- i will sleep the whole day away until the afternoon and then it will be rush rush rush... fuck i hate it that i know myself so well, but i hate surprises more. ima fold towels shortly. i cant keep writing all night. i had terrible dreams. i'll pay pal you a dollar forty seven if you can get me to forget what they were about. the pumpkin part was fine. i bet it was the cake i ate that made me dream that shit. i dunno what it was but it really needs to quit. my past still has a grip on me and it is really not fair at all. if i could make it all end like all my other pasts have, believe me i prolly would.

line up/sign up

 dear on the job diary,

hey everybody. they are hiring for heroes in springfield. here is what a typical fatass hero does here in our town. when the big hero shows up for work at 6:40AM, he sits there and jacks off by the sink, like he used to, pretty much all day. he often has multiple women come up to his workplace and spends hours on the city phone and various personal cell phones. sometimes he has women and men inside the building for sexual activities in the board room and on the pool table and in the closet where rescue randy is housed. sometimes the hero will watch other heroes take their showers and every once in awhile this will offend other heroes, but not often. if it does, usually this will cause a transfer to another station house, like it is in the instance i am referring- even after the gesture of a purchased shower curtain. not to judge, i think the shower curtain should have resolved the issue, just sayin. that was a quality shower curtain. at the end of a shift, when the hero goes home the next day, he primps himself to suck the blood out of all the scumbags who line up for crack money. he always keeps in mind the possibility of a cheap and QUICK blowjob later, the ultimate hook up place in town, he strolls across the street to his second job, the plasma center and covers his stylish ride with a grill cover purchased at sears. this is his second one, the first one blew away and that fatass bitch wanted me to go look for it and i told him i did. LMAO. i looked out my window.

i came upon a midnight queer

dear hark the heroin angels sing diary,

glory to the guy across the street. they moved away and so did the business and now we can sleep all day again just like it is Christmas. seriously, i dunno if it was heroin the had goin on over there or what, but i can retain your trust when assuring you- their product of choice was not avon. now watch this, when i post this, bet me if there wont be a pop up ad for a drug rehab or a solicitation for me to sell avon. or, i wrote Christmas, prolly some ornament company will slap me with a google ad. people sell shit everywhere. i will never put ads on my site. no fucking way. because why? because i would never click on them when i go to your site. and i wont be buying heroin from you if you move in across the street either. i like pot though. try and get the good weed a year from october.

peel your orange eyes

dear hammer diary,

my knee has a cramp in it and would prolly hurt less if i smashed it with a hammer. but i wont because i am a chicken shit and i cant hurt myself like some of those crazy bitches can. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. i am more of a 'chase you around the house with a knife' type gal- really. and i ain't had a good dose of that in a few many years, so it is high time for a crime scene (if you know what i am sayin.) i saw a live action crime scene the other night after i dropped rosa off from work. omg that reminds me, guess what the TINY little girl told her SMALLER sister when i arrived as they played on the front porch? she said in the SWEETEST little LOUD ASS voice after the smallest girl said hello to me, "DON'T BE TAWKIN TO DAT WHITE GURL." i about fucking died laughing. i looked in my rear view mirror at my reflection and fluffed my bangs and thought in my head, WITH A LOUD HEAD VOICE, "YEAH, DATS YOU. YOU DUH WHITE GURL." why would a little three year old tell a little two year old not to talk to the white girl. i was glad to still be a girl though to a three year old and not an old lady. whew. passed that test. betcha shedda chose her words a bit differently had it of been old CUNTFACE sittin there. i'd bet my life on it. i never did find out what that crime scene tape was about around the trees, but i didn't read of any 46 year old women choking to death while visiting over at their friend shiela's house either. shame on it.

an impatient inpatient

dear i wunner if i am diary,

if i am the only one, it would not surprise me. like those shooting pains i get in between my toes and shoot up to my twat, yeah, indicative only to me. i made the awful mistake of mentioning it to my old neurologist once, a fucking major mishap never to be made again. he thought i was fucking crazy after that. i got a new doctor. i still get those pains, they ARE real, i just think they are lucky now and when i get them- i usually do something to increase my odds. if i am the only one though, wouldn't that suck? reallly? to be the only one in the whole world. it happens more than you think. some people don't believe in being singled out. that only one person can have one thought- at one moment. others believe that everything has an equal, a twin- a mirror image somewhere far off thinking exactly what you are- doing exactly what you are- exactly at the moment you are doing it. i think about the girl on the other side of the world who goes pee at the same time i do everyday alot. seriously, i have a foot anchored in both these worlds, where not only am i singled out and things happen to me that don't happen to ANYONE else, i can also see reflections of my life everywhere. i am so much like the world around me i have become opposite of what i am supposed to be. is it ok to know and understand that i am like this? or should i get a new doctor?

ding dong

dear daddy fixed his doorbell diary,

i talked to my dad early tonight and he had the doorbell repair man over to fix the doorbell that was hit by lightning a month ago. i didn't know there was such a repair person, but turns out there is. the man came in and took daddy right down to the basement to where a 'transformer' was at and he replaced it and a couple of the house number bulbs and he got a new doorbell pusher button switch he said and i told him he still needed to take the grump. i have been after him for years to get a big mean ass dog- he wont do it. he wouldn't need a doorbell at all if he had the grump over there. i wouldn't worry about him one single bit ever if he had a set of teeth to greet people. he wont listen. then i think about the grump biting at me the other day when he wouldn't give up the unibomber's hat. my dad would pull out the shotgun and shoot him. i know he would. i've seen him do it and i know where he keeps it. so, i know my dad is safe i suppose.

safari lover

dear to crawl into the arms of a lion diary,

i know you would bite me. wild animals are very dangerous subjects to cuddle with, or feed, or even simply walk past. but it can be done. some people just have a talent for such duties. i, however don't. i cant even be around goats without them horning at me in some way or another. snakes either, i have eleven fang marks in my finger right now to prove to anyone that, even though that was a set up. anything can be a set up- if you were to ask me, but nobody ever does ask the opinion of a retarded whore. i quit expecting anyone to ask my opinion on anything much that matters anymore, knowing my feelings were never part of the equation from the start was something that took a long time for me to get used to, and now that i have- there ain't a big part of me that would choose to have it different. but for a second, maybe, to crawl in and be encompassed once again, swallowed up by the mighty feeling of the powerful promises of those lies i believed with all i am inside me- i would- just for one long sweet kiss and a tug at that bottom lip.

boo! i don't hate you

dear today was a long day diary,

i was so tired, but i saw happy pumpkins in my dream. i love pumpkins. i dig the big happy ones with the marvelous faces. i like halloween more than any other holiday of the year, because that is when the new year starts over for me. nevermind that, pumpkins are really something. i am working on the rewrite- that's right- ima throw it in the trash. it is too bad carved out pumpkins, they don't last. someday i will have a whole field of pumpkins to carve and every face will smile at me. bumble bees scare me.