no deliveries accepted

dear may the sparks fly diary,

ima say the grill on the trailer behind the truck in front of me was still burning, maybe even cooking food, because every time the truck went over a bump, red burning embers would fly out from under the bouncing lid. i waited for a chicken leg or breast to fly out- but it never did, so i hurried up and gave my car a good punch of gas and got around the rolling kitchen and just in time too- the grill turned over before the next traffic light and i saw a police officer turn around to prolly go back and offer assistance. that was nice- i thought. i've been so preoccupied with worry lately. i can breath again knowing where the poison does not breed. i'm not mad anymore, i am thankful now and i also sit and question my abilities. did i wish it away? did i will it away? God answered our prayers. i love every hair on his head. i love his shit marks on my bed. i love his big golden eyes and the way he will growl instead of sigh. ima be preoccupied still in the days to come- but only because it takes time to be silly and dumb. no more worry and even less fears- this old grump has a fire burning inside of him that ain't gunna go out FOR YEARS.... i shoulda known that.

searching for what i had earlier

dear upset stomach and dirty socks diary,

now that the dog ain't gunna die anymore, i feel stupid for sleeping with the shit marks on my sheets and so ima change them tomorrow. i don't feel like doing that today. i have a sour stomach from eating fucking mcdonalds and going to bed. i will never fucking learn. fucking eggburps. and i went to bed earlier and now i cant find anything i had before i went to bed and omfg i really hate that shit. hopefully i will be able to sleep soundly tonight. i am one emotionally drained whore.

the teeth of a lion bear

dear a lil diddy diary,

the last time i ate those little tiny bananas was in california. and by the way, in my earlier posting yesterday when i said i was in california four years ago- it wasn't four years- it was three years. the year was 2008. for some reason i have talked myself into thinking it is 2012. i lose track of time easily. it seems to slip away so fast. it is painful to remember how fast it all slipped by me. i watched a show on tv the other day about life after death and when some people get really scared they report seeing flashes of their whole life present before them as if they were last ditch memories to take with them- if something awful were to happen. i get these kind of mini flash memories all day long- little bursts of mini-movies that can be triggered by a noise or a smell- or anything really. but i don't feel like ima die everyday- i don't feel scared- or like the feeling of impending doom. so why do i see these little mini movie memories all day? if evil were to touch me again- like it has tried to before- i will survive- i am a strong willed whore. my beautiful fun filled life has been full of much reward and if the past is any indication- it is soon time for a soaking of much more.

fill in the holes

dear things to look forward to diary,

when things turn around and start going my way again, man, it gets scary. here i was all prepared for more change and then by some stroke of God, i am granted a gigantic reprieve. i'll prolly never know if it was the magic mushrooms, or the spells of purity i cast upon him, or if the dumb bitch was just wrong in the first place- but does it even matter? really? does it? i am so fucking happy right now i am pissed. i wont be pissed in the morning, because it will be the first morning i wont wake up mourning and know his days aren't to be counted nearly as closely as they were yesterday morning, but the lesson i have learned from all this... every morning counts. ima look forward to sleeping every night, nap, and morning with my beautiful healthy- even GRUMPY- river joanne. i will never take time with the things i love for granted again. that may sound cheap- but omg- you wouldn't believe what it means to me now.

i'm big on NUMBERS

dear telling me just to tell me diary,

i have fucking had it. if you want my fucking money- just take it, but don't make me suffer and then take it. i've already been through that- for like five years. the people in the town i live in are FUCKING IDIOTS. the worst part about this fact- i let them EDUCATE my children. yes, while i was raised here, my blood comes from the east coast and the west coast and somehow blended and rooted in the midwest and here i am, born a hoosier- raised in the land of lincoln- i dunno- stuck here in the RETARD CAPITAL OF THE FUCKING WORLD, i should wear the crown. i took my dog to the university of illinois and they don't think he has cancer. all preliminary blood testing indicates he doesn't have lymphoma. he has a urinary tract infection -which can cause a fever. river has gained over ten pounds since july 20th when he got his initial DEATH SENTENCE- and it looks like the old grumpy fucker will prolly be around a few more weeks than THE TWO DUMB DOCTORS OVER HERE THOUGHT BY JUST LOOKING. fuck the bitch at fariview hospital for animals- SHELLY L. STEVENS, DVM, she needs bit in the face by a poodle. YOU DIDN'T EVEN RUN A BLOOD TEST ON MY FUCKING DOG YOU SKANK WHORE BITCH. fuck GREGORY SKELTON, DVM, at best friends vet care needs his ear scratched off by a rabies infested raccoon, for not treating my dog like a new patient and giving him a chance to live. YOU HAD A FRESH URINE SAMPLE AND DIDN'T EVEN TEST THAT. AND FUCK the PEOPLE IN THIS TOWN WHO DON'T TAKE THE TIME TO EXPLORE THE TRUTH AND GET TO THE REALITY OF WHAT IS GOOD AND REAL IN LIFE.

a telephonic post from the porch

dear wishes in my diary,

it is true, you can wish for something. and once in a while- that wish may be granted.

ganked and yanked

dear snip and clip diary,

at target last night on the way to the roadhouse- i made the unibomber stop to get fingernail polish remover because that is the only place i still get it. i was the first one to the check out if you can believe that shit, which i am still fucking sitting here in disbelief almost a day later myself, so i dunno how y'all are taking the news. so the little asian fellow is checking me out (not looking at me, just doing his job- i looked like shit) and the girl behind me rolls up (in a wheel chair) and the girl pushing her is a fucking FREAK of a knockout. FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. i'm not even like that and i fucking found myself wanting to see her breasts. then the bitch smiled at the asian boy checking me out (again- not looking at me) and i almost fucking died. what in the fuck? where are her parents? i became INSTANTLY OUTRAGED. the poor girl. here she was in her early to mid twenties and clearly had NOT EVER BEEN INTRODUCED TO A TOOTHBRUSH. while in the bathtub whila go, shaving- down there- i may not be a FREAK OF A KNOCKOUT- and people may not float around all day and desire to, "see my breasts," but when i smile at you, i am certain there is only ONE person who will become "INSTANTLY OUTRAGED." lol..... SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE!

popping out of a cake

dear if i were a surprise diary,

i could really sneak up on people. i would make a really good shocker surprise. "boo!" i could say and anyone would jump. no costumes, no make-up, no gimmicks- i would need none of that crap. you can get the shock of your life. just turn around and turn on the light. i ain't up early today cuz i wanna be, for pete's sake. i got responsibilities and a plan of action. i woulda had to go to the bank, but i don't have to do that anymore, my work as a whore paid off last night. i plucked my eyebrows, trimmed my mustache, cut my nose hairs, (omfg out of control) and did all my facial upkeep i have neglected in doing for all these months. i almost look like a girl again. i even painted my toenails- for the FIRST TIME THIS YEAR. something big could in fact be on the horizon- or i'm trying to sneak up and scare myself. i don't usually give two shits about much of anything, but maybe it is time to think about buying new pajamas.

POWDERED UP

buzzzz.....

to be safely eating chicken

dear bringing me hope diary,

i flew home four years ago today- on a plane- from california. today is the morning i watched the man mop the hollywood walk of fame (part of it) with pinesol and slid a sleeping homeless man two folded up dollar bills under his sweaty armpit. then i couldn't find my fucking camera and dumped out my whole purse/travel bag on the clean freshly mopped sidewalk- and a lady came by and handed me a dollar thinking i was homeless. i always travel in my pajamas. i think it is safer. i've always arrived safely in my pajamas when i fly and jet around airports, so that is how i travel. plus i like to take a nap or shower as soon as i get to whichever destination i arrive- to or from and then put on clean pajamas. i have lots of nice pajamas that look like clothes. i am happy not to be high in the sky today, but i would eat at mcdonalds if they still had the chicken biscuit. i really liked that for breakfast- with two milks. it brings back great memories when i think about eating it.

avoiding the train wreck(s)

dear what it seems like diary,

a whole lotta people had their brights on commin at me tonight- it seemed like, especially down there by the sportsman's club. i ain't been down there for a good while and it'll be prolly a good while before i go back, but i did enjoy sitting where i sat before and watching the toenail moon- for five minutes and forty one seconds. that's all the time i would allow myself and all the time i needed until i got the okay for safe passage into canada. i saw no deer tonight, like i usually do, but i was still lucky as i always am, and i love being amongst the older generation. it may be outrageous to some, but to a bar i still wont come. seeing the cuntface and the hero downtown tonight- i could have accidentally hit them- a true misfortune at that light. oops my foot could have hit that gas pedal and i could have earned myself a damned gold medal. finally at home i was treated like a winner- we went to the roadhouse (WHERE I KNEW IT WAS SAFE) and had a steak dinner!

lighter fluids

dear earn it or burn it diary,

these days it so painfully obvious what i've done wrong over the years. the mistakes stick out like splinters in my chin. i have some regrets. i trusted in my heart because my heart had never led my so far astray before, but there's a first time for everything. jibber jabber.. i know, but it's still so new- the getting used to it part. nobody told me it would be this hard to get myself- oh how do i put this- back where i was... oh maybe- if i wanted to go there. but i don't. i didn't get picked. again. by him. or them. i'll never ask again. i was already picked twice- which was fucking really nice- and someday i'll get those splinters from my chin.

dirty white bowls

dear thirty red sunglasses diary,

eating a turkey lunch meat sandwich at 2:35 in the morning is lovely on a frilly paper napkin and accompanied by a frothy butterscotch milkshake and warm pudding in a glass flower dish. i feel like a princess here in the bed with the fresh clean sheets, except there is a smear of shit on the bottom- which i am so hoping is from river. i am ignoring the shit- for the time being anyway- it really doesn't bother me. it would have a month ago, but not anymore- i am happy to see it. if majority rules then the shit wins- because i am the only one who knows. we spent the day looking at each other- taking turns sleeping. i slept upside down in the bed a few times and he slept right side up. i had to chase him out of the dog food bowl twice- i don't want him eating that shit- so he had a big ole round steak with mushroom gravy. he liked that and it kept him away from the dog food.

wet mornings; blind events

dear little slice of pizza on the side of my face diary,

today i woke up having a straight up orgasm and that my dear stawkers is something i have not done since prolly junior high school. i was moaning and carrying on and the whole bit. i am so lucky i didn't get caught by anyone other than becky, who woke me up thankfully, and if ever i had any doubts it could happen in your sleep- i don't anymore- AT ALL. i suppose when there is a need- the mind will find a way to satisfy that need- regardless. fucking AYE! and i got to meet nancy grace earlier in dreamland- but she didn't like me so much. i guess it was because i was so close to the crime- but i couldn't see what had happened. i told her it was like a slice of pizza on the side of my face and i couldn't see past it. she didn't appreciate my food analogy and chewed me to pieces. i dunno if i like the earth angel as much as i used to. maybe sheeba from illinois can just have her.

do or die; laugh or cry

dear is that how we are playing now diary,

communication is key to the expression and exchange of ideas of feelings. sometimes you have to kick the ball to get it to start rolling. my dad's buddy died sunday while we were having lunch and he went to the visitation last night while i was having dinner. it became obvious to me that my facial recognition disorder came to me sometime after i started smoking pot because when daddy told me the name of his friend who died, i was instantly able to picture the face of this man. i saw his face, hands, wide shoulders, long arms and huge feet. i even could see his hair and the last thing i remember him wearing was his bowling shirt. when i was growing up, my dad was usually about twenty years older than every one's dad and often times kids would mistake him as my grandfather. he's still about twenty years older than every one's dad, but it's weird because most of my friends have already lost their dads. we all have a time limit here. watching river and saying goodbye to him everyday hurts me to a place i will not describe because there is no way possible. bringing my brother back to my dad, i only pray was what i was supposed to do. it still hurts to be the bigger person- even when you're a whore.

up to the floor

dear gifted cunts everywhere diary,

i fucking rock. taking my bed off the frame was the best thing i could have done for anyone, especially river, who used to be known as the grump. he is not grumpy anymore and honestly- he prolly never was. i fucking hate noise. i hate it. it is like air garbage. my teeth chewed the fuck out of some food today, especially that red tomato. it was a goliath tomato. i don't know why people would throw tomatoes. i don't know why people would throw stones either, but we do. ima stone thrower. ima stick pusher, fire starter, stone thrower, rock roller, grudge holder, chip wearing- short cut taking- two faced- bitch. i am lazy and it really is all about me and my dog. these days i could care less how you or anyone else feels about anything. ima do what ima do, wait, ima do what i have to do, just to stay afloat. i would take my dog on a cruise this week if they had one that could promise a quiet stress free trip.

dream weaver

dear the blessed tomato diary,

inside of me there sits the sweetest of all tomatoes, the reddest of all tomatoes, the most perfect tomato, the one i just ate. i've never had a better tomato in my whole entire life. the taste of a tomato makes the world come to life and the first of the peaches are ready. i have to wait until the tenth til mine are done because i want the little contenders. they aren't the biggest of the peach, but they sure pack the flavor and they are good for cooking- they don't mush up. it will sure be hard to watch all of those beautiful tomatoes cook up into catsup, but the sweet ones are the ones that make the best batches.

EVERYTHING i can

dear august of mornings diary,

being pregnant in august wasn't that bad when i did it, but it would sure suck this year. i'd do it again though iffin i had to, cuz what could you do. i'd do it. i wouldn't undo it. i felt like a mommy again last night at three in the morning. it's a feeling that is scary but nice. river, you guys know him as the grump, was very very sick. his fever reached 104.5 and he would hardly move. i gave the old guy some aspirin and put the ice packs on him and wiped him all down with the cold rags. i dribbled eight ounces of water down his throat- drop by drop- and he never even noticed he was swallowing- which i thought was pretty slick. then finally around 5ish- his fever broke and started coming down. i knew we were back on the right path when we went out and came back inside and he tried to hump me. of course i discouraged such behavior, but i promised him if he felt like it later on- we could go a few rounds.... maybe.

Dear peanut butter mother fucker two timing whore LOL

CITY to the STATE

dear sometimes when we torch diary,

sometimes i get that itch and burn going on around the tips of my fingers and i know the cause. i hate to say it out loud because that would bring some certainty to it. in my heart i believe this could have all been prevented if i would have just washed my hands more. now, i am infected- infested- invaded- however you want to say it and i really cant do a whole bunch about it now- not on the surface- not on the level- not in the air- not on the plane- not yet anyway. so i scratch the itch. i cool the burn and i never ever torch you. i pity those who do and laugh at those who will ever long to. fold up like a chair, be sure and cut your hair, men who cross their legs are often seen as more intellectual. the next move is yours, secure the remaining whores, fuck it why wouldn't you run for senate?

dust on the water

dear all the pictures in the world remind me diary,

ima hate to move the cabinet under my tv. that is where i hide things i don't want other people to see. it is like a safe because anything you slip underneath it can not be retrieved again until the whole thing is moved out. it is a biology laboratory cabinet, square, with six 5" wide drawers, all brass hardware and with a few that still have the brass side locks. the top is an inch thick- solid piece of oak- the whole thing is oak- and it came from the old stephen decatur high school downtown, my parents bought all kinds of shit at the auction because my mom was really 'in' to that kind of shit. i ended up with most of it because my dad ain't. my favorite part of the cabinet when i was growing up and now, was the fact that someone had scratched "FUCK" in the side of it and that is prolly why my mom got it so cheap. when we got the new 'picture and picture' sony tv in 1994 that we spent $1,600 on the day after Christmas, i needed something big enough to put the fucker on. so that's what daddy gave me- still full of all my mom's shit. it's gunna suck seeing all the pictures under there, but maybe i got lucky and a mouse will have chewed them all up. it has been YEARS upon YEARS now since i stuffed them under there and everything.

looking straight ahead

dear telling myself something different diary,

i always revert to that same old promise i always make to myself and i usually don't have any problems keeping it, or so i tell everyone. i never admit to fucking up myself. i'm the only one i'll make a promise to that i will have full or no intention of keeping. the grump ate a huge dinner. it was a promise easily kept. he is sleeping again now and pretty hard. i'll be sleeping again soon too. i think tomorrow will be a better day for everyone. i kicked the wall last night and now my foot is all bruised. i don't know why i do that, but it sure ran becky off. i have no reason to kick at the wall, but i do it all the time. in my dream it was a cuntface bitch. funny how that works ain't it. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE!

north to south

dear don't be jealous diary,

when i went to sleep last night, i knew something was strange. the grump was no longer the grump anymore, he was mr. snuggles. sleeping the correct direction in the bed has been a definite challenge during his long life in my bed, if it isn't his ass in my face, he sleeps sideways all day long. last night, we finally had what i consider a breakthrough. mr. snuggles put his head on my pillow and slept like a fat man last night except hardly snored at all. feeding him this morning was like feeding an infant. he didn't want his eggs. i had to break out the big guns. after i told him that i wanted them and got his attention first, i fed him by fork and he ate the whole bowl. i think he would have eaten more if ida had them fixed, but he seemed content after we were done. i've never seen a dog like apples like he does either- especially the red ones.

killin and fuckin and laughin

dear heavy towels soak up less water diary,

how many times have you spilled something and needed more than one totally dry towel to mop up the mess. i don't do it as much as i used to, but i do it enough. rotten milk is the worst to sour in a good high quality heavy towel, you'll be lucky if the smell ever comes out. i know shad guts, or the smell of, doesn't come out of a cooler anytime soon. that's why you should never put shad guts in a cooler, please refrain from doing so at any and all cost. if you have already found yourself  making this most horrific mistake, chalk it up to a horrible fucking lesson and laugh it off. i did. coolers aren't as expensive as they used to be and neither are towels for that matter.

you stopped it

dear secretly i didn't know myself either diary,

keeping something under wraps from myself is often difficult and not the most readily available option assessable, for obvious reasons. but when it happens, it really happens and it is fucking amazing. i believe it has indeed come to the point where it is time to begin asking, how can this happen? i've been really impressed with my behavior lately, the cloud of instability has drifted on over to someone else's head. i want to thank my supporters for the network of security and long term commitments i've received over these past few years especially, during these past two (or three) troubled- stupid years. i owe y'all big time.

not tomorrow either

dear if there was only today diary,

feeling like the end of the road is around the corner, i took a left. i wanted to avoid the traffic anyway. i weighed myself at my dads today and got a welcomed shock, but i am still scratching my head at the number. how can i weigh the least i've weighed in however many years and still feel more fat than i've fucking ever felt in my entire non with child life. i am scratching my head- but it doesn't even itch. i miss the good feeling of joy in my heart. and if things weren't so shitty already, the goat wanted to interject his words of wisdom. fall upon deaf ears, i am dumb, i speak no longer.

how are you?

dear it's always a morning like this diary,

hailow again. how is life treating everyone else this morning? i already want to push someone over a cliff. do we have any of those here? i'm willing to drive a ways. i hate waking up hostile, but sometimes i just have to. i feel like i am trying to win a snowball fight with someone on my shoulders. everything i say is a fucking argument. not allowed to have an opinion around here, i am stupid. i cant understand what someone says most of the time and not because the words are so big, because the words are all muffled up and i cant lip read through a wig of wire. i am sick of saying, "huh?" because i know i wont care, it wont matter, and it wont change my mind, but i cant say what i want to say, which is, "shut the fuck up- i don't give two rotten pussy fucks." i try to ignore you, but you demand a response. i nod my head, but even that isn't good enough. I CANT HEAR YOU. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOU. IT TAKES MORE EFFORT THAN I AM WILLING TO PUT FORWARD ANYMORE. and that's why i don't take a bath, brush my teeth, put on make-up, get dressed, smile, go anywhere with you, look at you, laugh with you, like you, or even spend more than 2.5 hours out of bed per day.

just a plate

a special date