special feet; sweet meat

dear by the way diary,

i never molested my children, but sometimes i thought about turning myself in for therapy. i mean really, i never did anything technically improper to my boys, but their skin tasted so good in my mouth some nights after i would give them a bath and when i was putting on their pajamas and then i would kiss a toe and then two toes and then the heel and then the foot and i dunno. and then i felt awful doing it to just one of the boys- i need to be fair in showing affection- so i'd get the other one out of the tub and dry him off and diaper his ass and start in on his feet and little toes and knees and before i'd know it- we'd be covered in slobber and laughing and all wore out. so when harry was eleven we finally stopped doing that- no i'm just kidding. when they started walking we stopped doing that- but i sure miss that and i cant wait. so i just wanted to explain that. openly.

liam is mail

dear clearly reverse psychology diary,

enough is enough. i am going absolutely crazy watching this trial. i really am. consuming every minute of my day now, i watch it pretty much from the time i wake up until the time i go to bed and then all the review shows about it at night. then i hurry and turn the channel and turn it back and record what ima miss when i sleep. it is way worse than the oj thing. i'm pissed off at nancy grace and she is usually my for real 'whoro.' she's being a smart ass. i don't want to voice my true opinion about the case- but i will say that i think that mothers should be allowed to eat their babies right after birth. so you can take whatever you want from that. i couldn't do it, eat my kid, but i did chew in their toes quite a bit. my kids had tasty toes. i remember how it felt to lick their toes and their heels and their legs and the back of their knees and their thighs. shit. i loved licking my kids. i used to lick them after i would get them out of the bath tub. i remember how they smelled. that fat baby smell. man i cant wait to do that again. prolly one year from tonight i will be licking my ass off. becky and i will be making the little fucker just laugh on the bed. it better be a boy. isn't it funny how my new little baby will be named william. they want me to call him liam.. but that is mail backwards.

keep it simple stupid (KISS)

dear seriously find me the tweezers diary,

while traveling today i pulled the sunvisor down on the old cruiser and was outraged at the sight. then riding around the rest of the day almost fucking killed me- because it was like everyone knew it was there. i am talking about the long black hair growing straight out of my chin. i thought i just pulled the bitch- but it's back. i'll yank that bitch again. while i am at it- i may as well pluck some eyebrows. i wonder if hairs can tell when you pull them out. i wish i could pluck a memory out like a hair or a mistake from my past like a whisker. i'm a slow learner and a quick burner, but i get there. what was i thinking- back then? when things sink in, i usually get it and i got it. it took me ALL this time to connect the dots- and i will never accept the picture completed. but one thing by leaving that shit behind- along with the other bullshit of the cuntface kind, i sure in the fuck don't mind.

biological color of my nails

dear the odds diary,

what do you think the odds of me having the same color of fingernail polish on my nails for a whole week are? if i didn't know the answer already, i'd say SLIM, but the answer is- WIDE. ima strip, buff, scrub and repaint tonight. they sure do grow a bunch in a week. ima try not to paint red again, odds are SLIM they'll be any other color but. i love red things. i'm sitting in the darkness now wishing i had a birthday cake. i would eat that bitch with a smile on my face. i might have to make one. i would put two candles on it but when i blow i would be thinking of the number fourteen. because in dog years that is how old my sweetness is- but i don't feel like lighting fourteen candles and risking wax on the icing. what i look for in a good cake is wax free icing and a moist center. i don't care what color the icing is- but my nails need to be red.

letter bombs and manly charms

dear smashing up my baby bumble bee diary,

thinking about the smell of my hands often makes me wonder how on earth they get to smell the way that they do, but i can not question the work of nature. i wont wash them either- not until i get ready to and then i will. have you ever put the pieces to a puzzle together after you put the puzzle away and forgot about it? that is what i did today. it all makes perfect sense now. i didn't switch over to the dark side all of a sudden- nope- the light got turned off. people do change light bulbs you know. i used to try to hard, mmm, not so much anymore. i got what i got and have what i want and i'll wait my turn for more. there ain't no sense in jumpin the fence cuz you'll still have to mow over there. but as long as i am here, i'll be sincere, when i tell you i have no idea why i ever cared.

gimme that becky!

dear now that my baby girl is two diary,

i have yet to send a birthday text to becky's first family. i always send her 'dad' a picture of her today doing something cute as fuck, and then he will want a picture of the grump to see what he's doing too. i was going to name becky a different name, but that was before i saw her. her name was to be, 'berkeley.' when i got to her though, the pup i had fallen in love with i felt no connection to any longer. i was heartbroke. so i picked up a different puppy and laid her on my chest. she just laid there and never moved. she snuggled closer into my neck finally and i could feel her sniffing me. she never once tried to squirm away and her heart slowed down to a regular beat. i never put her back with her litter that day, she's hardly left my arms since. my becky liked to be around my neck until she got so big she no longer fit there. now she just has to wait until we get into the bed to get there.

catching flies?

waste round my waist

dear fuck load of pickles diary,

i have penciled myself in for a gigantic nap and then i am going to start pickling promptly. my eyes weigh almost seventeen tons each- and that's just the lid parts. relevant to my obvious character, i ain't about to stay awake much longer because that would put others at risk. i got new potatoes and green beans and tomatoes and corn on the cob to eat while beginning my pickles tonite. it is always fun to eat last year's batch while making this year's batch for added inspiration. these pickles will last much longer this year because i will not be feeding the goat any. this will be the first batch of goat free pickles. i'll bet these will be the best yet.

a phony post

diary on the go dear,

time for a cool chanGe. i know it's time... for the car a/c to come on.

shit me off to an island (with a boom box and batteries)

dear big river diary,

i think if i got shit off to an island with only a few choices of music to take with me, the little river band would definitely be one of the CD's i would take. then prolly olivia 'fig' newton-john, billy squire and joel, elton john, judist priest, freddy fender, and dan fucking fogelburg, shawn mullins, frank zappa, and juice newton. that would hold me over for about 35 years. as you can plainly tell, i am not into new music. i did somehow forget the bodeans though- and emmylou harris. i'd take them too- if i had the room. i wasn't up all night, i got up during the middle of the night and let the dogs out. i went to bed kinda early and slept very well until becky started her nightly run and poked me in the face a couple of good times. i cant really say anything to her tho SINCE TODAY IS HER BIRTHDAY. but ima give her a good birthday post when i get home. i'm off to get my pickles now. xoxoox

out shopping
gettin what i need

cliff hangers for ponchos

dear standing on the edge diary,

looking over the side can be dangerous if someone is right behind you that is pushy. especially if they don't like you very much or they are rather jumpy and there are loud noises loose in the air or so forth. i scare easily. fucking jump out of my skin at the slightest touch or sound- and i am deaf. so i dunno how that worked out. oh and i hate being touched and i was never abused as a child. i just hate being touched. ain't nobody ever broke me yet. the ONLY place i like to be touched is my butt- at night- as i am falling asleep- and just really lightly with your fingertips- and really that's only at the hotel- cuz at home i don't need that- but you can iffin you want. i'm not sure why i am so reactive to sounds and really i do not find it as amusing as others do. but i will jump right out of my skin without so much as a clue. i can even scare myself by falling asleep sometimes and i wake myself back up- trying to explain that to someone can really get fucked up. that is why i stand away from the edge these days- back way far where it is safe. i don't take the chances i used to- i stand back here and wait. i still get spooked out of my skin and i know that feeling wont leave, but to know what is real and what is not- that is what i have to believe.

asscrack

dear i beat everyone up twoday diary,

some days i am up at the crack of- and some days i barely get my eyes to crack. some days i wish i could smoke crack- no i don't- i just put that there cuz you knew it was coming. crack sucks. i'd rather smoke weed. oh here we go. naw, i ain't gunna start crying about that shit again, but you know what i will cry about, my facial recognition disorder. i really do have it. so my cousin was married to this woman right? well he called this week. we will call him SHANE. shane was married and totally whooped on this girl, TANYA, who he put through pharmacy school and had a baby with and raised her older son. nice blended- sweet little hard working family. tanya met another man, SCOTT, and shane got kicked to the curb. poor cousin shane. well you'd think that would just be the end of it. i haven't seen my cousin or his wife for a few years- we all live- and at work i knew this guy SCOTT who had just got married. everyone was so happy for scott. we all wished him well and then we met his new wife TANYA. she introduced herself to me and everything- showed me pictures of her KIDS, and guess who didn't recognize her? so i have it- the face thing. i know it. and next time i see tanya- ima let her know it. but until then- if you see me and you know i know you and don't say high to me- that's on you then- cuz i prolly woulda said high or fuck you or something.

dark meat pickles (in my ass again)

dear for certain diary,

unable to recall the last time i ate something i actually wanted, i had dark meat chicken last night for the first time since i was a child and actually lived. but it gave me nightmares. it did really. i heard cracks of wicked thunder in the sky and drove past creepy cemeteries in my dream and signed myself up to be fucked in the ass- so yeah- i blame the dark meat chicken. i cant wait to get my pickles today. ima hoping the dude is home when i get there, but if he ain't, that is fine, i wont get them today. seriously, committing myself to doing them fuckers everyday for three weeks is something i could put off a few more days. but once i get them here- i cant put it off. i tried growing my own pickles on the fence in the back yard one year, but the grump pissed all over the vines and you gotta pick the fuckers every hour or they turn into zucchini and get stuck in the fence. pickles get huge when you miss them. for as cheap as dude's charging me for a laundry basket full of them- i'll never grow them again or even think about it. hail to the no. and now we can eat the ones from LAST year.

progress report

dear how do i explain this now diary,

i watch one soap. i have since i was little. anyone wanna guess which one? THE YOUNG AND THE RESTLESS. oh yeah.. big cbs fan here. SHOUT OUT BOB BARKER. anyway... the unibomber learned how to play 'laura's theme' which is the opening song for my soap opera. so now when i watch it, he INSISTS on playing it along with the television show on his guitar AND amplifier and it is so annoying. i try to be nice, or rather amused looking, in my appearance- and not bust out laughing- but it's hard. bottom line, he is learning y'all.

cone head

dear now i forgot what i wanted to say diary,

this doesn't happen very often but when it does i usually go get an ice cream cone and it will come back to me pretty fast, but i ain't doing that this time. hidden in the freezer i have my favorite kind of ice cream, but if i were to bust it out, then all the fucks around here will know it is there and then it will be gone. but see, that's so selfish of me because if i don't share it- it will just get freezer burned because i cant eat it all. i hate freezer burnt shit. oh yeah i remember now. you guys are gonna shit twinkies. but it is too late. i'll tell you after i get an ice cream cone.

bounce outdoor fresh in my car

dear what was that again diary,

going to the moon is not something i would ever sign up to do, but my car thinks it has been there and is on its way back now. i hope it makes it. it was a new car once. i was scared to buy a new car, but i bought it anyway. that was 276,795 miles ago. after about prolly 72 oil changes, one timing belt, axle after axle, tire after tire, two transmissions and six headlights and a handful of dope lights- that sucker is just now falling apart and i still ain't sat on the seats yet. i don't want a new car, i don't. why people want me to get a new car is beyond me. my car would possibly look newer with floor mats and a new air freshener. i already stuffed a dryer sheet under the seat and got a great result.

i'll wait outside

dear does it still count if you're dead diary,

i got to thinking tonight, just for fun, is someone has a restraining order against you and that person dies, can you go to their funeral or can you still harass someone who is dead? i think it would be worth getting arrested at the mouth of the casket. hey mistakes can happen, but i'll take my chances at harassing a dead person any day of the week. i'm scared now. i called the japanese earthquake weeks before it happened, go look. what if something were to happen- the fingers will surly point my way. point the little bitches. point the middle one first. along time ago i had someone to love and let me take a look at you now. me harassing you seems like so much fun. look around- come to me. but be dead please. i have no answers but nowhere i want to be. i was born in the winter but cooled by a warm heart. thank goodness i don't need you. don't be thinking that i don't want you because i still don't. but harassing you would be fun. let me get you a gun.

gum wrappers on the floor

dear i always lose shit diary,

it's funny. how i always lose shit and the first thing i want to do is blame whoever i am with for taking it- not because i think they actually took whatever it is, because i hope they did so i ain't gotta look for it. extra effort is something i put forward when i have passion. passion is something that just cant be learned, i cant learn anyway. in the sky you may see the writing- even if you cant read the words. if you can figure out what the symbols mean- you can start a fire with no flame.

flour arrangment

dear cant help but wonder diary,

so all of my diary entries basically say the same things over the last six months, use the same words, but i just rearrange the same words in a different order to mean different things. isn't that right? so what. a painter or whatever uses the same fucking paints every time she paints on the same paper and comes out with a different painting. isn't that right? so if you paint enough paintings wouldn't you eventually paint the same picture twice- or something pretty damn close to it? i'd think. i always draw the same shit when i draw- a half a Christmas tree. sometimes i put ornaments on it and sometimes i don't. but i usually put lights on there. and half a star at the top. then i put one big half present and presents under it. i only draw the right side of the tree because i cant draw the left side. it looks skinny and dumb. but i can do the right side damn near perfectly. getting up early has its' consequences. i am starved out the buttfucking ass now and could easily nap. oh hail naw.

ultra magnetic

dear if you think about it diary,

the only reason we even have a july is for tomatoes and corn. damn. i may be stupid but i ain't dumb. oh hail to the no. i remain steadfast in my love for tomatoes. nothing is more profound. i think the cure for PTSD is in tomatoes, more specifically, in the seeds. i've been through so much trauma in my life. i don't write about it because i don't want you people to actually know what i've been through. i don't want the pity, nope, what i want is the celebration of the ignorance. because stupid shit happens to me. shit that happens to no one else- happens to me, be it good, be it bad, be it weird, funny, or sad- the shit just happens to me. i'd like to figure out why- someday if i could.

sucks to be you OR you

dear on the news diary,

so last night the first story on the news this scag nasty old toothless bearded guy is all laid up in the bed smiling on the chest of a young girl who looks to be about fifteen. they had a very dangerous meth lab in a third level apartment in the middle of the building and the cops got like five pounds of the drug. tweekers and seekers. i like my teeth and i love to smile. i smile all day long. my teeth are out all day. i dunno. i used to have neighbors across the street that did that shit and they went to prison. the wife drove the husband around and he robbed houses for a living and they got caught. yeah. while the kid was at school. in a plymouth horizon. i am sure it made sense at the time. i was never afraid they would steal from us because i have a dog and everything and i knew where they lived. they were the coolest people you ever didn't want to know. the hero got to see the us marshall's take them away while he wasn't here visiting one afternoon. i felt really weird having so many different brands of candy in my presence all working so hard. after the hero left and the marshall's left i slept like a baby once i smoked my fat doobie and relaxed.

straight up

dear smart for a retard diary,

good morning y'all. i am up early- with a plan. i went to bed last night WITHOUT ANY TV OR UNIBOMBER to disturb me and fell right to sleep holding becky and did NOT get fucked with until he came blasting in at 4AM and kicked the grump out of bed- which i think was totally wrong to make the grump get all loud and vocal at 4AM, but it happened. so adding my naps from yesterday and my sleep last night, i could be in oklahoma by the time the unibomber wakes up today. except that is not the direction in which i would travel- believe it or not. usually i would go west- but today i would go north. but, i need to paint my nails. i need to feed my snake. i need to clean my oven for pete's sake. i'll find something around here to do, or maybe i'll just go blast back in the bed and see what damage i can do.

fuel for the fire

dear mad with desire diary,

i look before i cross the street, but i knew a girl that got hit by a car my whole life and she was not right in the head afterwards. so like i dunno what was wrong with her kids- because they weren't born yet when she got hit, yet somehow they were still fucked up and i think her being hit is prolly why. she was a nice girl. she liked the band rush. tom sawyer was her favorite song. so every time i hear that song i always think of her and her fucked up kids. i hated her husband mike. but really i've never known a mike who didn't turn out to be an asshole. he treated her like shit and made the whole family live in a trailer- a breadbox. but that was in 1992, so i dunno where they live now but i'd bet money they are still together. i'll bet they still live in a trailer and i'll bet those kids grew up with a vendetta to run over some body's mom with their car, an attitude inherited from their dad mike. i'll bet tammy is still the coolest chic, listening to tom sawyer and her husband bitch. i'll bet the beer cans outside the back door sometimes pay for a trip to the store and that's where tammy will always buy more. i didn't forget tammy. happy birthday.

dinner time

dear my nasty mouth diary,

the taste of my mouth is horrible. just disgusting. i don't see how anyone could even walk around with a taste this bad and admit it. ick. i ain't worried about it though. the mouth police wont come and arrest me. i hope. trying to always remain on the up and up, sometimes i tip over. i usually don't mind this as long as i keep the flavor. adjusting my screen, i keep pulling it towards me just so i am able to see it, it illuminates my keys here in the dark. i don't think they would ever find me anyway, the mouth police, as i am hidden fairly well. underneath my covers here on my bed- oh wait- there's the issue of that hole over my head. dammit ima get a new blanket one of these days- this one has no safety value AT ALL, i was even kinda chilly whila go during my second nap. i must now brush my teeth and then eat.

deeper in

dear all the way to the bathtub diary,

having my two regular naps today has been great. i feel basically normal. i decided to switch back to my regular shampoo and conditioner during this evenings bath. it will be nice to have my old smell back in my hair. i have missed it. i am a very smell orientated person. i use my nose a LOT. smells are important to me and that is how i know i would be okay if i went temporarily blind. i already use my nose more than average folks- so sometimes i wear a blindfold to practice in case i ever did go blind. i would be okay. i prolly wouldn't drive very much anymore. but my friends tell me they for sure would take me stawking. true friends will help you hide the body- not throw you under the bus. that is just something to always keep in mind when you are cleaning out your friend closets. sometimes you also don't have to actually BE blind to not be able to see, so the hypersensitive nose can come in handy even when you don't yet smell much. that is just something else to keep in mind.

my finger

dear contempt diary,

i wish. oh man. six days in jail for giving a dickhead the finger? i'd do it too, except i would have explained why much better. i feel like i flip the bird when i need to, but i've never gone to jail for six days. the most important person i've ever had the pleasure of giving my bird to was prolly george ryan. my finger is pretty crooked so i try not to stick it up by itself very often because it makes it dreadfully obvious of the bend. i'll bet that's why i am so verbal.

the food court

dear looking up diary,

if all of our food fell from above our heads we would prolly spend quite a bit of time looking up to the sky for dinner. i would look up right now for a banana or cinnamon roll. i am starving. i am tired though. been up for a whole hour already. look at me go. i had a hot dog from steakNshake yesterday and i wont be doing that again anytime soon. it was nasty as fuck. the bun was hard. the weenie was all chewy and tough. even the relish was off. i pulled the weenie out and cleaned it off with a napkin and gave it to the dogs. the snake wants a rat feast. two rats last two weeks. i don't feel like fucking feeding her again today- to the tune of seventeen damn dollars- because i need to go get dog food- to the tune of seventy damn dollars- but i got a big $5 coupon WHOO HOO! i wish they sent out coupons for rats. buy one rat get one free. omg i'd get four. i wonder if the snake would eat a small bird. i suppose if she gets hungry enough she would. that's the only way i'd eat a hot dog from the steakNshake again. maybe after a nap i'll feel different about somethings, or everything, or nothing at all.

seventySEX degrees

dear making sense diary,

i tossed like a salad last night and had i've been lettuce- i'd be all wilted and brown and nasty and nobody would eat me on a fucking salad bar. the unibomber had the refrigerator turned up last night and even got up himself bitching about how hot it was- but never thought to look at the thermostat to see what he had adjusted it to. i got the high velocity fan- which kept me alive- but finally when i tossed myself out of bed this morning and passed the fucking air conditioner thermostat i almost tossed myself back in bed to break his fucking neck. i should have just opened the FUCKING WINDOW. more and more i've been noticing he runs that he runs the temperature in this house just like my grandma used to when we would visit out there in arizona. i would always be so hot when we would go in the summer- so hot- and so hot in the winter- so hot- because she ran her heater toooo much and the central air- not nearly enough. i wouldn't even run a heater in phoenix. wouldn't even own one. i'd buy two central air units- one to run while the other one was off.

on the boat to camp

dear where the wind takes your fart diary,

so what. who gives a shit. i just cant wait til he leaves for church camp in cuba. he drives me nuts sometimes, but i never say anything usually, i just sit here and take it. so does becky. like i want to scream at the top of my lungs but the tiny kind mother inside of me makes me stop. i cant be mean to my baby. i love him. i still want to kill him, but i waited toooo long. cuban church camp is something every seventeen year old should attend. he will drink the water and come home a rejuvenated youth. he will see the feet of Jesus in the sky. the cuban mexican jeannie will be on the beach to grant three wishes and i do hope he chooses them wisely, but if not he can bring the bottle home and stuff another american jeannie in there. drilling home the idea that reform will happen at this cuban church camp, my seventeen year old baby is ready to go. i am ready to send him now. cross your fingers (under the stairs) that he can do it (all by himself.)

puttin on the shits

dear more of the same but different diary,

you can always tell what i am thinking because i am one of those keyed up people that cant shut up. i know you guys had me pegged as the quiet type didn't you. oh no. quite the opposite, i can easily assure you. i stomp when i walk, scream when i talk (i think that is because i am deaf btw) and i chomp when i chew and i'm even loud when i sleep. if you have a headache, don't plan hanging around me for lunch. the unibomber cant hardly stand to eat in the same room with me, because i, "chew too loud." i think i have thin cheeks. i dunno why, sometimes i cant hear either over my chews but i don't sit and bitch about it- i just swallow and get a drink. my favorite bottled water is aquafina- but they have pissed me off. while back they changed their packaging. they have a new more eco-friendly bottle that is supposed to be better for the environment. it is a much thinner plastic bottle, almost like a thick baggie. i fucking HATE IT. every time i open the bitch- i get wet. so i bought all the old kind of aquafina bottles they had at both walmarts- by digging and pulling out all of the new bottles piled on top of the old, and now i've found the old bottles TASTE DIFFERENT, TASTE BETTER, in fact, and i don't get wet when i open the old bottles. since i recycle EVERY fucking bottle anyway- why cant i have the old bottles? so i wrote an email to the company and maybe i'll get a coupon. i doubt it. ima prolly switch water anyway (after all these years now) CUZ IT COMES IN A BAGGIE AND TASTES LIKE TOILET WATER.

rose milk BEHIND the postage stamp

dear in or out diary,

i ain't sure what will become of it all when it finally does comes to an end, but i wait for the papers to come to tell me when. i could go on like this for at least thirty more years, and it would be so much easier if i too could drown myself in the beers. it has been in your face the whole time- it wasn't me that crossed the line. i cross it now because i can, i cross it now because i am, i cross it now to make myself understand, i will never be taken advantage of again. not like that- not by a 'man.' and was that dude really even a man? i mean with such soft skin and beautifully manicured hands. he liked it when i fucked his ass, that should have been the first clue i guess.

spit please?

dear dammit diary,

ima leave in a minute. ima go see about getting split. i ain't been split for a minute- or two. then i feel like something with cheese on it. i know that cheese is prolly one of the worst things a human can cram into their body- because of the oil and shit- but i fucking love cheese. i like it melted. i like it hard. i like it soft. i like it squirty. i just like it any way except powdered. i am not an astronaut, but i do like tang. oh man i love tang. dang i love tang. ovaltine- not so much. well. kids. ima go. i have somewhere to be and a people person to see.

what if i swallow?

flying tomato mums

dear my glorious nap diary,

upon waking up i realized i had been to sleep for way longer than i'd thought. it doesn't matter- i didn't miss my plane. not today anyway. now then, my friend, i can trample around here like i own the place, and i do, but still. i read online at yahoo answers that trimming your mums on july 1 makes for a better bloom in the fall. i did mine around the middle of june because i wanted them to be the same height as the porch. i cant believe i did it so close to the time you were posta. how did that happen i wonder. i decided to trim them again friday to get them back on schedule. i still have the clippers over here. i doubt if my mums will know i cut them twice. that really was some fantastic money i spent last year. i love mums more than anything. okay, not anything, but i do love them. decorating with a tomato plant was a stupid idea. the unibomber never runs out of those. i'll take the credit for actually planting it though- since i did it.

time will tell

dear excuse me diary,

plenty of things have happened between now and then, i know because i was there. at the time it was all going on though, i had no clue as to what was happening to me or to my family- even though i was there. my point now will be, just because you are there doesn't mean you'll always get to know. looking back, it's easy to see isn't it. i don't feel bad, i feel horrible. my story hasn't changed. but my feelings have- thank goodness. i no longer carry the weight of the world- i carry the weight of my own pain and i do still hurt. i have high doubts that i will ever forgive myself for getting involved with someone who wouldn't let me go. 

ICE

dear all your fault diary,

tick tock if i had a cock it would be much easier to pee. i still think we got cheated there. no big secret. the brightness of the light pierced through the window and warmed my face- i couldn't tell where it was coming from. if all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put humpty back together again- what makes you think i can? i wouldn't use glue. would you? up to the moment and back in the past, i am the one who always said that kind of love would never last. the letter that blew out of the trunk, the one you chased that day, made reference to the moving of the earth- i tried to throw it away. on white no lined paper in handwritten ink, i wrote those words to you, i begged it to all be over, remember? i wanted it to all be through. um. that was four years ago today- according to my gas log. hating you is what i'll do for the rest of my fucking life. maybe the picture below down here will console your cuntface wife.

he fucked everyone here

electric seats

dear gangs and thangs diary,

well, i fucking am an idiot. i just proved that again. and i'll do it a couple of more times prolly, but i would welcome a group of kids holding up traffic because we have the real shit going on over here. we have gang and group retaliation shit over here in the daytime- in front of children- in the front yards- with toys and houses being shot up. the police stopped every black guy walking in a mile radius to search him for a gun. i went down the wrong street and the cops told me to hurry and leave the area. i was just stawking the hero- i wasn't planning on staying. yup. it's a mob out there. i'm lucky though, unlike most. black people love me and i love black people. i think it is because i think i was supposed to be a gay black man or an angry black woman. i dunno, but i was supposed to be black. william thought he was mixed for years, even going so far as to tell his school principal his father was african american. the hero straightened all of that out for me when a police officer came to the school that he knew. one of the many things i give thanks for, but oh well. william grew out of that phase and i get to take the credit. the keep your doors locked and for shits sake don't provoke anyone- and if they do approach you- offer them a blunt (or force trauma to the head- depending on who has the bigger strap on.) but as far as the parades of kids in the street being smart asses taking their time crossing like cows having intercourse (have you ever seen that? it's so amusing and sick and slow and retarded) remember, 'a watched pot never boils.'  just imagine jesse jackson leading them or that one of them could be our next president in thirteen years and it'll prolly calm you next time. i am not laughing, okay, you busted me, i am.

power windows

dear oh my goodness diary,

yeah, that shit right there is the type of shit i'm talking about. i live in hood central. the hot block- i can see it with my 'stawker blockers' from my front porch. they are some bad ass binoculars too, they take pictures. i use them on the highway when i'm doing a few miles over the speed limit and i also use them when i am not window peeping. omfg clarity and zoom power on these things i have is incredible. i cant remember how or where i got them, but i did and i still got them and holy shit- if i haven't learned how to use them bitches after all these years. they come in handy. it does suck when you look into the wrong window though, you don't want to see people changing their SHIT BAG.

dont just stand there- FALL OVER DEAD ALREADY

dear icebox diary,

high. whatchoo dooin? i'm in the mood for a melody. with extra cheese. harry came home with a story to tell. ida beat his ass if coulda stayed out of hell. he saw the hero tonight standing on his back deck- but he didn't see him fall off- so i was disappointed like heck. i couldn't figure out why he'd even tell me AT ALL. he said he and hannah and been to the mall. i told him next time don't even tell me unless he sees his fat ass fall. people always want to flock and tell me when they see his dumb ass- i would get much more enjoyment if i still smoked good grass. you know part of me would feel just terrible of something awful happened to the hero and it had nothing to do with me, i could have saved so much time for everybody.

dreamleader

dear one then two diary,

one hour somehow turned into two hours and then i woke up. i really was tired. totally worn out. how did that shit happen? gee, i dunno. that meatloaf is worth a million bucks. sumbitch oughta be on a magazine cover. i'll add a picture when it's done. ima creep around here and see about waking up. sometimes it takes longer than others when my eyes have been so happy shut.

sweeping and then sleeping (under the furry rug)

dear rearranging my plant syndrome diary,

i've been cured! i don't think i've ever been struck down and cured of anything so quick in my life, but i knew i'd better get the rush on before the circus came- after all- it is happy hour. i hate being like that but i am still in my pajamas and fuck getting dressed to move my plants around. it took about thirty nine minutes (not forty one- surprised me as well) and i am pleased with the way everything turned out. i love my plants. not as much as becky, but almost. i drank a glass of pop and now i am ready to go to take my third nap of the day. i am. it wont be a long one, but it is quite the necessary one. i wish everyone a good hour and i'll back post as always when i shine again. is it a safe day today? i forgot to taste the air when i was outside. no i think yesterday was... lolol today would be cream daddy day. i cant believe i just did that. cuz i wouldn't do that with the hero's mouth- but the hero's mouth would. fact. ask ole hairy nipples. she oughta know since she lived with him... slurp slurp.

now you know

dear do you know diary,

i had an interesting day. i didn't do anything different than any other day, but something peeked my interest more than other days. my terror alert level has been elevated. all in all i think that was a good system, so i still use it. i report for duty whenever they call. i got drafted once, but i didn't go. i skipped town and sent in a note telling them i drowned. i'm all dried up now with no place to go, no shorts that are clean and every towel smells like mold. the unibomber did the stinkin laundry- give him all the points- i'll do mine when i get ready. a high stamina well conditioned fighter- i'll slit the guard every time, but i ain't usin a stinky fucking towel mother fucker. off to make the meatloaf bitch twats.

furry dog boots

dear pretty simple cakewalk diary,

my snake bears a striking resemblance to a belt i saw the other day on ebay. the funny thing is- i actually liked that belt and prolly would have worn it if it would have shown up here at my house. i would never buy such an item though- i just liked what i saw enough to say ida prolly worn it if i saw it laying around. i see my snake stretch out and i think about rat after rat after rat that has gone in and out of her body and to display my own reptile around my waist would prolly make me puke. i wonder why people don't wear dog belts. i think i would wear a pair of boots made out of the grump's hide. fuck me ima have to get a new blanket. it will have to be soon. now mine needs washed and i am afraid it wont make it out alive. let me ask you this, if you should find a snake belt, could you in good faith wear it with out the haunting screams of rats echoing in your head? i don't think i could. not after hearing them die in the shower like they do. no way.

happy birthday JOETURD

dear joeman diary,

i remember the cutest little dude. his name was joey. in 1992 he was eight. so i dunno how old he is now. somebody else out there can do the math. but he's pretty grown up now. he was my best friend drunk kelly's son. her baby that lived. well it turns out all three of her babies lived but that's not how i knew it for the whole time we were friends (fifteen years) but that is another post because this one is about JOETURD. SHOUT OUT TO THE JOEMAN- THE JOETURD- THE JOEYBABY- THE JOSEPH. i pulled his pants down  once in the kitchen of their old house. i will never forget that. i loved joey. he was never a pain in the ass kid like some kids are. he was a grown up kid form day one. i felt kind of bad for him sometimes. but he was half grown by the time i met him. then his mom shipped him off to colorado to live with her mom so she could begin a new life. bye bye joey. when joey came back for a visit, he brought the grown up dead baby with him- who was a sister. now joey had two sisters that were alive and a new step dad. wow- a shock to the whore friend who lived next door and watched all the lies unfold, one after the other. anyway today is joey's birthday. sweet little joey. that fucker was cute. he was gunna raise 17 kids and have no wife. i wonder what kid he is on now? 

basketball

dear you know why diary,

i was never the last person to be picked at school when teams were picked for kick ball, or dodge ball, or any team sport. i always dedicated my whole self to whichever team i was on- even if my closest buddies were on the opposing side. i could slam that big red rubber ball- almost into outer space, in fact, there might still be a couple on the roof yet mr. flemming (the janitor) hasn't found. mr flemming was still the custodian when my boys went to the same grade school twenty some years later and he said my kids acted just like me. when i asked if that was good or bad, he told me that it wasn't bad, that it was very, "amusing." i know i was never the cutest kid in the school, but i'll bet you i was one of the ones that got remembered for smiling more than the rest. i was pretty active until i would fall asleep at my desk. the notes went home about how all i wanted to do was 'horseplay,' and how i must not be sleeping at night because i couldn't stay awake all day. well life got easier with each grade and now i am an adult. then i found out my sleeping schedule ain't all my fault. now i know that running around and making sound will keep me awake- but it can drive others around me crazy insane if there is no sense of what i am saying to be made. leaving over the past five years my routines in my behaviors i'd adopted, i wanted to hide my little issue and eagerly tried to be what i thought was normal, i wanted to try and have the chance to have an eight hour day- with the possibility of overtime. i thought i'd have the backup in case something were to go wrong- i thought i had a safety net. but then i kicked the big red ball on the roof and it hasn't come down from there yet.

super model

dear air conditioner diary,

when i get hot and i am just about ready to turn a fan on- the air will kick on and prevent me from getting up. i hate the way the unibomber runs the thermostat. i wanna be the king of my castle. i might be up for the day. i've already been outside and everything. so far so good. i feel time is on my side. the day is my friend. i will try to keep everything the way it is today- no sense in making anything better. i'd like to paint my porch rails one of these days, but even that can wait. the paint i bought a few years ago for the project is prolly spoiled by now. ima big planner. guess that's prolly why i ain't king of my castle. SHOUT OUT UNIBOMBER that fucker.

love and joy come to you

dear wassailing diary,

who knew there was actually a recipe to wassail and it would so figure it to have pineapple juice in it. still though- a toast to good health i could do that. i like toasting things and i like toast. once when i was small- don't laugh please- i made some toast. i know that was pretty funny- so go ahead and laugh. but look, we had an aunt jamima toaster cover. you know what happened. i was small. i didn't know. it caught on fire. the cabinet burned a little. that toaster still works- i'll have you to know- by the way- today it does- my daddy still uses it. i just HATE to think what that toaster cover would have went for these days. i suppose it is time for a nap before i burn something up over here. it could happen.

a quiet fire

dear coffee drinkers diary,

good mourning. it is the noisy day at my house. garbage day. so we don't just have one noisy ass truck that stops to make all that racket- we have two now. two trucks with air brakes and a high revved up motors. retards. now my whole damn house will be up. suck my twat. i slept good for THE FIRST TIME in days last night. can i get a round of applause. thank you- thank you very fucking much. i was really getting pissed off about that shit. my blanket is destroyed. the hole is all the way in the middle of it and rips every time i roll over now. nothing covers my legs. i may sew a sheet to it this afternoon because i am not giving up on it yet. it ain't over. i can still faintly see the fish on the fabric. it has not decomposed yet. can something decompose while it is still in use? uncertain, but i would assume. i am going to make a meatloaf today for my people. william is coming and my dad loves my meatloaf- so i thought i'd surprise everyone with a 3 pound loafer. i will put tons of the magic sauce on top and everyone will go apeshit- like always- and i will smile. my mom made some nasty meatloaf. she had to know it was nasty. i know when i make shit that is nasty, so i feel like my mom must have known her meatloaf was nasty, her fried chicken was SUPER NASTY, and omg the salmon patties- BARF. really all my mom's food was icky because she cooked new shit all the time and always used a cookbook. i don't like cookbook food. i like regular food with gravy. that's why i liked going to grandma's house where there were no cookbooks and they burnt the garbage. 

mister america

dear all that is left in the bowl diary,

unable to determine who was in bed with me in the middle of the night, i almost gave my dear becky the boot thinking she was the grump because she had her ass going the way the grump does his- the wrong ass way. you know, if i had it to do all over again, i would just have becky. BUT if it took having the grump to get becky, i'd take him again too. i would. while i can admit to loving the grump, that longing to cradle him and fondle him has passed. it isn't my fault either, he became distant. or maybe he always was distant and i just didn't notice until MS. CLOSE moved in. i like looking at him more now. he's a good eater. he's just not a good sleeper. he snores. he growls. he shakes his toys at you. he's a stawker. he's a beast. he's an instigator and a referee at the same time- dual job. he is humbly greedy and has the memory of an elephant. 

dilbert?

carbonated blood

dear you can drive to alaska diary,

alaska why? well. because this is why. the world was so big when i was small. my dad was in the service before i was born, in the korean war actually, and told me many stories about when he was based in alaska when i was a kid. i always colored in the background of all his stories and gave all his friends faces and i could see the trees and the snow and the lakes and mountains and everything my dad would describe to me and alaska was always my favorite place to question him about. then one day i asked him how long it took to get there- and somehow that day i learned you could actually drive there, DRIVE TO ALASKA, and i knew right then- alaska was someplace i could go. it ain't just that either. don't let me fool you with all the smushy crybaby memory lane shit. i wanna go because it's cold and dark. my two favorite environmental states to be in.

monday night roof party (in the car)

dear statewide travel diary,

the unibomber and i took becky down to see william and lohan (his girlfriend) who is on home arrest. she has thirty six days left and intends on getting her money out of the service provided to her. while sitting in the car visiting, two sheriff cars pulled up because apparently she was away from the house to far and this caused her ankle unit to become activated. lohan is the first one to be on home arrest in her town. i think that is so funny. leave it to lohan to have a roof party in the car and have the cops coming from both directions. becky knew something was wrong when she saw the cherries, i didn't quite know what to think- but i didn't have my strap on- so i wasn't that worried. lohan and i jumped out of the car and i sprayed the perfume- an old pothead habit- it did cover the smell of the cigarette i had smoked earlier however because we hadn't even smoked anything else. and just so everybody knows, i am aware that the smell of perfume does not cover the smell of burning/burnt reefer, but it will make someone wonder what they smelled more of after they've smelled each. so there. it wasn't long after the cops left that we left, but i was ready to go anyway. i just wanted to take them a mcchicken and go for a ride really. i needed to get out of the house. i feel like i am the one on house arrest sometimes.

the crazy in me

dear russian reader diary,

hello. i have a super ton of russian readers. SHOUT OUT UP TO RUSSIA. i used to be scared to death of russia. i grew up in the 80's. i just knew a bomb was going to flip over here anytime. now i know you guys are not only cool, but sexy as hail. mmm. russian men. who knew. there's another reason to move to alaska so i can stawk russian dudes from my house. ida never known it was possible if palin hadn't of pointed it out. not a big fan of sarah's fake ass over here in retardville. i would like to move to alaska though someday during the summer months. then i'll take my little bitty row boat over to russia and find something to do.

found a taker

dear pleasing the grump diary,

feeling somehow that i have cheated the grump today out of a fresh taste of love, i called my only friend that triggers that extra burst of lust out of him, YVETTE, who is coming over to get humped. the minute she walks through my door, THE MINUTE, the grump turns his engines on full throttle and goes to town. yvette will do her best to dismount him, but it wont work. finally his jets will cool his mouth will stop with the drool and will turn to hump my pillow. yes, i should have never planted that seed- i should have never reminded him of his need. if i wouldn't have rubbed him on that belly- he wouldn't have turned to jelly- and my hands wouldn't be this smelly.

nappy nap number two

dear off two the bed diary,

twice today i have been pult towards the sheets and my shredded blanket. here i go again. on my butt all day and now to my side. science has evolved enough in some areas, but i cant seem to stay awake for a whole afternoon. so i record the things i miss. if i am needed at a particular place or time, i can set my cock-a-doodle-doo, but if not- i am free to just carry on. if there was a leak in my sleeping, i would sleep while i was awake- and that sucks, but it does happen. it used to drive the hero insane when i would fall off the grid for a nap all the time. but we all have our needs. that's the real reason i don't use the ringer on my phone. what's yours?

objection

dear typically diary,

when i watch trials on the tv, and criminal proceedings, usually i have my mind already made up on whether that person is guilty or not before any evidence is even set forth. but ever since i was convicted of some silly ass shit i didn't do- my whole entire view has changed towards our justice system and how we convict people- let alone put them to death. you just never know who is lying and who isn't because how the 'victims' lie, the information gatherers report what the 'victim' tells them, or what will most benefit them later on down the road in their career, and others invent ways to gather useless information that is irrelevant to anything- only to sell their inventions for profit. criminals always lie. but since when did it take all these other liars to line up to convict a criminal. i say if it does take a team of liars to prove one person did something wrong- that person ought to be set free on the basic principle that a million little lies doesn't make one huge lie accounted for.

seche vite

dear back to bed diary,

that's where my boat is going. sailing away. i sleep much better during the day. here we are- the last week in june already- finally almost to the half way point. the end of the physical year. when does the mental year end? prolly october 1st. AHAHAH. inside joke. i am craving chinese all of a sudden like. DUCK SAUCE, two egg rolls and beef and broccoli. VOMIT IN MY THROAT. i'll order the good shit- thank you. pepper steak- extra gravy- pork fried rice- noodles- sesame chicken (no seeds- they make you test positive for pot) and one egg roll- and 85% of the cabbage comes out and it gets restuffed with rice and noodles and gravy. mmmmm. but that's after my first nap and bath. i gotta sleep before i eat. priorities. k night. xxooxo

free tonight hurry ladies

dear thunder in my bed diary,

that was so nice last night. i love going to bed when it's loud and crackin outside. becky always smushes up extra close and it's like music hearing the rain tapping on the windows. becky, i've decided, is a koala bear. she folds up like a chair when she sleeps and does NOT move. she stunk like something dead last night and i told her too. but i told her i didn't care what she smelled like- i loved her. she smells like me now and my perfume, number 3 by jessica mcclintock- is what i had on last night. it smells good on becky. my hair is a wild mess today. i like it. i took a porno pic of the old grump dog this morning and i thought about advertising on the personals. tell me what you guys think? would the grump get any takers? i'm thinking he would.

looking for love...
can host
male for female ONLY
will clean titties before endeavor
please put 'stretch' in subject line
so i know you're real...

like a car with spark plugs

dear highlighter diary,

i been thinkin, which is unusual i know, but i do like to highlight the ignorance around me. but i also like to highlight the ignorance IN me. for you see, never in any of my thoughts or scribbles, do i feel i am a level higher than those around me- or even those whom i do not know. i do know, however, through the learning process that i have more integrity in my pinkie finger than the hero his cuntface wife and i feel confident in saying that here- or in court- and with my hand on a Bible- with Jesus himself floating in the sky above us. you see, i know i am retarded now. i am not a stupid woman. i simply had a handicap for five years and choose to blame that on the fact that i was slow or delayed in making the right choices until an adjustment was made in the setting of my distributor in my brain that mimicked that of an internal-combustion engine so that the spark for ignition in each cylinder is generated later in the cycle and killed any further desire to be turned on by the hero. retarded. it became necessary. the whore part i recognized later. better than you? that's for you to decide. i don't even know you.   

eating out

dear shop girls diary,

flying in the face of disaster, that is not where i intended to go. but since we are here- hey. i love having matching dishes. i 've had so many over the years that none really match anymore, but i used to have a bunch. i still have all my placemats that matched all my dishes. so when i want to be cute- i just match each place setting. nothing much matches around here anymore. i'm convinced it's to make things easier to identify or find. it does work. occasionally something drifts away in the scheme of things forever, but it may wash ashore again. flying in the face of disaster, what i do everyday- it matches most of my dishes now anyfucking way.


sheet under the home plate
art on display
2010



dragon ass

dear big world out here diary,

paying with change at walmart will piss a line of people off pretty quick and that is what the dumb stupid dragon face lady did right in front of me tonight. duty called out and i snapped. i had to. if i didn't, the fucking goofy bitch would have done it again and next time it could have been fucking you behind her- so youns can line up and thank me later iffin you want. guess what the fucking bitch bought? gnarly head wine and washrags. i am a change saver. i just took in 1455 dimes not that long ago and 56 half dollars, but you dint see me at walmart buyin sixteen dollars worth of shit. the cashier told the lady she wasn't supposed to take that much change at the register and i thought, "yeah, here we go," but then she took it. i finally could stand there quiet no longer as i watched the cashier make little dollar piles of change. i said, "see that big green machine over there against the wall that says COIN STAR on it?" as i pointed over to the big green machine that said COIN STAR, and the dragon face lady shook the rocks in her head yes, "next time put all your change in there like the rest of us do out here in the big world so we all don't have to wait on you."

mutual of omaha

dear flattered diary,

i always get excited when i get a review. AND it's so obvious they've been reading my shit for a long while too because what i posted on craig's list earlier did not fit the description of what they were crying about. i like spelling words incorrectly on purpose- i call it 'word trickery.'  so- if you don't like my shit- then why do you read it? humm. people crack me up. i don't control your internet browser- don't click on my site. as far as moving to nevada, i'd rather move to nebraska. the people seem to really understand what is going on around them- not that they don't in nevada- but being a midwest whore- i like to keep my business more local. 

Fan feMale

dear love that shit diary,

oh hail gnaw. give me something to chew uPoN. i am broken down now-uH. did i push a button or tug on some one's hairy nipple. i never claimed to be smart. who could be my biggest fan, in body size too? oh prolly. what's a matter? did the guy of YOUR dreams get a divorce and STILL don't wantcha? that is awful. i'll bet you that in YOUR head YOU musta thought that divorce was somehow for you. who else would have stroked such a reaction from the mention of a failed marriage of one the hottest mother fuckers in this town who should have never fucked you.

look what came in the mail

Keep the voices in your head, please.

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Date: 2011-06-26, 8:09PM CDT
Reply to:

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Dear Trixie,

Here's something for you from out of my head. Being forced to dodge your ignorance in the rants in raves section is tiring. You sit on your butt day after day and believe that you are some Kerouac throwback that no one in town understands. You are right about it all being drivel. You want us all to believe that your writing is so high-tone that you deliberately write in disjointed, misspelled, and childish prose to confuse everyone and highlight the ignorance of all the people surrounding you. If you have such disdain--then do us all a favor and get the F**k out of here and put a drain on someone else. You can write a zillion poems about what I have written and it still will be true. That is the real bitch, ain't it?

You aren't smart.
You aren't Shakespeare, Shelley, Keats, or Byron.
You are a pain.
If you revel in being a whore, then move to Nevada where it's legal.

still steamin!

dear steamy days diary,

i love arguing with my dad. he knows i am right. plus, he started it just to argue because he knows i cant stand glenn beck. i feel the same way about mike fuckabee too, but not as strongly, because he ain't on the tv everyday yet. i liked rash limbaugh for awhile, his voice i could tolerate and the pretenders did his opening theme song for the longest, but i never took what he said as gospel. don't get me started on bill o'really. over at my dads i saw a red cardinal today. we made eye contact. he was a fantastic red with an orange beak. he didn't fly away for a long time, this cardinal, he just kept looking at me with his beady little eyes and bright florescent beak pointed at me. it was a showdown of sorts, an eye stare off. i won. but when i got out to the car that bird had drawn a picture on my windshield, so i think my dad must have had some bond with that cardinal bird. i decided that dumb fucking bird must be a fan of glenn beck as well, because it drew a big SHIT PICTURE on my windshield. i hope that pretty ass bird doesn't lose his job this week.

GLENN BECK SUCKS

dear i am worried about my dad again diary,

having a fit is how i left my dad's house earlier. we argued and fussed on the porch like two kids. he stood there and told me today that the FOX NEWS NETWORK is the only news he watches because he TRUSTS them AND went on to say if GLENN BECK ran for president HE WOULD VOTE FOR HIM! all i can say is I CANCEL MY DAD'S VOTE EVERY YEAR- SO IT IS LIKE NEITHER ONE OF US VOTE. so i hope that just makes everyone feel better. then i get the unibomber to go vote for me. but i have learned over the years, that doesn't mean he votes for who i make him vote for. the unibomber is a dickhead. omg. my dad. glenn beck. who knew and HOW did this happen. i mean just look at how normal i turned out and now this has happened to my dad. it has to be his age. he's getting older every year, we all are, and i wonder sometimes, you know, because we all know how FOX NEWS is. ima keep an eye on him and his birds over there. AND ima tweet glenn beck and tell him i am soooo glad his show is ending next week. my dad is sad, but he'll get over it. i just don't want mr. beck to get any political aspirations.

intimate and special times

dear know me that well do you diary,

how well do you know the person you're with? how long have you been with them?  if you just met last night, it would be understandable if say- you didn't know what kind of cigarette they smoke- or if they didn't like cottage cheese, but after twenty years- little details like this ought to be second nature. observance is key. retaining what you observe, kindof useful- if you want some pussy from me. fuck even the hero figured that out pretty fast. pavlov's dog wasn't stupid, even his mouth would get wet when it heard the bell. don't try very hard now, i wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, but you do realize it would take twice the effort with someone who wasn't such a "whore." in the future, i'll buy my own cigarettes if i want to smoke. but thanks.

clink clink CHEERS!

dear another failed marriage diary,

listed in the paper today- another failed marriage. can i get a moment of silence for mark and nancy. ok now shall we make a toast to mark? TO MARK- YOU ARE ONE SMART AND SEXY MOTHER FUCKER. YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN- SINCE LIKE 1986. YOU'VE BEEN SUCH A QUIET GUY AND SO RESERVED AND YOU DESERVE TO BE WITH A WOMAN WHO WILL TREAT YOU LIKE THE CREAM FILLED DADDY YOU ARE. YOU ARE THE JESSE JAMES OF OUR TOWN (only better cuz even you could do better than katvond) AND YOU AIN'T COVERED WITH TATTOOS. I HOPE YOU FIND A BAD ASS BITCH WITH A ROCKIN BODY AND (not the fat babysitter either with the hairy tits and a mans name) MOVE ON WITH YOUR LIFE ASAP. just sayin.

lick a cracker

dear yep that's the car wash diary,

boy that roger is a smart cookie/cracker. but i suppose he still has yet to read the other post i left for him yesterday on the other blog. ANOTHER HINT OUT TO ROGER. my dad called whila go- he wants me to report over there for lunch. i aint had a fucking bath in two days. ima do that in a minute. i got to see a full grown mosquito a second ago and the stinger on that bitch was almost an inch long. no wonder my whole leg or arm or neck swells when them fuckers bite me. they can get clear down to the bone. i guess i never really took the time or had the chance to really view one up close like this. dead it is. happy i am. i still cant believe roger knew right away that was "the" car wash, but i want to make sure roger knows i do in fact have ALL my teeth. sometimes i just think it would be much more convenient to be able to take your teeth out and put them in the glove compartment(like a wedding ring)- or throw them in the dishwasher instead of brushing them.

the label in my pants

dear quiet day screaming in my sleep diary,

i slept much better than the previous two nights, yet still tipped the shit on the ''shit scale." something must me eating at my subconscious. i was a dripping whore in my dreams last night and moving AGAIN from a house where i no longer live. i was; moving items that were not mine- in a truck that was not mine- with children that were not mine. the only thing that was familiar was my old house, the feeling of being a wet nasty whore and very much regretting it, and becky- who came running back through the door she's actually never ever been through as soon as i called for her. i never had the feeling of being a whore in that house, only in this house i am in now have i had that feeling. it is one of the worst feelings i have ever experienced in my life and no woman should ever get used to that. i remind myself daily of the label i now wear because of the mistakes i made in my past. i don't mind it so much anymore, the label, because i know i am retarded now. it's okay to be a whore.

this is about the other carl

dear other carl diary,

so it's been a year now since my other buddy carl died. last time i saw him was the friday before father's day. i remember it well. fucking sucks. i hate losing people. i  know it's supposed to be something i am used to and all, but it never gets easier. i missed the funeral and shit. i didn't find out til after it was all over. suicide. i don't even get it, but in his case i do. but i still don't. i went and had lunch on his grave. some people are more brave than others and some people can fight longer than others and for some people to lay down and die is their way to fight i suppose. i guess when it comes down to quality verses quantity and you've already lived eighty years, the prospect of the cure and the disease and the burden on your family and the cost is what helped poor carl decide. and that my friends is a fucking shame.

this is about susan

dear this is fucked up diary,

i ain't sure of the year, prolly 95, but it was fucked up. i'm almost positive it was 95. i could be wrong. who cares, it's still gunna be fucked up if i am a year off. so it is again june 26, 95- and i lived next to pat, the lady who died- i just posted about her an hour ago and she's the one who died a year ago today. well susan lived on the other side of her- next door. susan, pat and i used to hang out in the front yard and talk about stupid shit and susan just had a baby and she was so beautiful- a  little girl she had- with beautiful redish blond hair. i was always so jealous- i'd wanted a girl- but since my baby had lived six months- i'd had my tubes tied and i was done. anyway. june 26th we heard a noise, and soon her husband flew home and parked in pat's front yard. we knew something was terribly wrong because pat would never allow parking in her yard. pretty soon the ambulance came and the coroner and we found out that susan had shot herself in the head. i never understood that, never saw that coming and pat and i never spoke much about susan after that day. her husband and kids moved out of that house- it was prolly easier that way. it's strange somehow that pat and susan died on the same day. i know (and am so thankful) pat didn't plan it like susan did- but it's cool in that weird way.  

this is about pat and carl

dear my dead neighbor that married my old landlord diary,

so when i moved into my old new house, i introduced my old next door neighbor to my new landlord who was old as fuck and refused to remarry ever again unless he found a virgin and was very open about this. i happened to know a 70 year old virgin who was catholic and this worked out famously. the two married after a 'micro-courtship' and she died a year ago today. i found out a DAY to late. omfg i was crushed. my old landlord died the year before, but really he should have been dead long before that and everyone knew it. he killed all kinds of people on the highway in traffic accidents, always calling them, "acts of God," and he'd be the only one ever to walk away. that fucker would hit them head on. i ain't lyin. when we would see him coming- or a car the same color even- we would fucking turn- and that is NO lie- miles away even. nicest man you'll ever meet- but not on a highway. he outlived his son too, who was healthy as a fucking horse. he and my neighbor were married ten full years. i dunno if they ever had sex.

dark pictures from the light side

dear slow day fast night diary,

yup. slow day. didn't do about shit but went to walmart and that's about it. talked to my dad for a bit. watered my ferns. you should see them. one word- WOW. my hostas are blooming. my mums are thinking about blooming. my jade tree is coming out of its funk. my cactus are doing great, quick SHOUT OUT TO THE GOAT- i haven't thought about you in a while. i always think about the goat when i think about hoover dam. don't ask- don't tell. don't worry- i wont. when i go out there this next time i want to see that new bridge they got built and finished. i saw it when they were starting the bitch way back in 2000, then i saw it in 2007 when it was not even half way done, and now i want to see that sucker now. we got pulled over last time i was there. it fucking sucked. but it was cool. i cant remember why exactly, but it was for something dumb i did. prolly the smoke coming from the windows of the mustang. fuck that car was fast. no tickets and i got to keep my stash. whew. i could text the goat while i am going over the damn dam, but he'd just get the wrong idea and besides, i don't know if he accepts messages from the dark side anymore. so i prolly wont. in fact, i know i wont.

dirty pictures amuse me though
driving or not.