high terror alert

dear closer than you think diary,

looking back over the fallen leaves of my life, whenever i start raking up piles of shit i've done over the years- i do hate clean up time- it takes a ton of effort to decide what stays and what goes. i have to reconcile the fact that there is some shit that takes a bit longer to clean up than others, but it all comes out in the wash- usually- and if it doesn't and a hit of bleach wont get it- i'll put it in the work pile man. i feel like a bologna sandwich right now, but there is no bologna in this house because i don't buy that nasty ass shit. i ain't gonna eat anyway. what is the use in it. the pups are on high terror alert tonight. the grump is ready to bark at about anything. i'm ready to sleep and start a new posting week and forget about it.

a tisket or a casket

dear pretty happy with that diary,

on an off week, i don't send a bunch of text messages. i still get quite a few because of the way i have my twitter account set up. i am really starting to get the swing of twitter and it only took two years- imagine that. there are only a couple of people who still have me blocked that i know of, one is the producer at cbs, her name is @kassting and the other one is @eveldick. @kassting blocked me the day before my birthday and i fucking cried when i found out- i admit it, i was CRUSHED. but then, she was the first person to EVER block me, and i really didn't do ANYTHING to deserve being blocked. she sent out a tweet asking for her followers to go vote for some other project she was working on and i sent one back that said, "why? you didn't vote for me?" and @eveldick, you either like him or you don't. i don't and never did. dick cant handle being rejected by a whore. i still find irony in the fact he has a 'dick' in his @twitter name and wants to draw attention to the fact i have 'whore' in mine. at least i can spell 'THE' right.

you get what you pay for

dear writing on craigslist diary,

i has been so long since i've written on craigslist, i almost forgot about all the time i spent there. that is until i looked back at some of the things i had written and oh how that stuff made me smile. i sure wish i knew how right i really was about it all, back then, when i only knew about half and the other half i was just guessing. i know putting the faces (and ages) with the screen names certainly made all the difference for me. i fully understand the threat i was, i am, and i always will be, because i am the little princess that was always the one he was so blessed to have ever had the chance to love and have been loved by. even still, he will search for the rest of his life to find someone half my equal to satisfy a third of what i gave him. eww to the choices he's made herein and thereafter.

i might need help later

dear six hours later diary,

two naps and a hundred tweets later, i am awake again but still in bed- with two dogs right next to me and the feeds goin on the other laptop and the tv on. i thought about sitting up once, but that feeling passed. i just scooped out my eye boogers for the first time today and they were the size of sunflower seeds- in both eye corner pockets. i put them on the window ledge and i'll take care of them later. i almost screamed out in shock when i felt the first one. i think i can see better now that the obstruction is gone. becky is drooling on the unibomber's pillow. i think it's cute so ima let her keep on doing it. she is dreaming because her eyes are in the rapid eye movement stage. she has eye snot too, but i prolly wont do anything special with hers. i think when you have really good dreams your body produces eye snot to remind you that you had dreams worth remembering. because when i look at my little eye snot rocks i've saved from my past, i can remember some of the dreams i had that produced them.

into the ground

dear a month ago today diary,

my life changed so much a month ago today. i will not soon forget that day. just cruising at that perfect altitude without a care in the world and then INSTANT TURBULENCE. it happens. i know it happens. it's supposed to happen. and i sit here and cry and whine when i know it could have been so much worse. i've already had my share of worse though and got it super early in life, so now when shit happens and cant compare to that- it's all just crushing- and makes me re-evaluate everything. it is for that reason i don't know what i will do when something ACTUALLY does happen that matters. i prolly will just fucking lose it completely and my plane will go down nose first. please do not listen to what the black box says.

pass the warning along

dear now then diary,

fucking in about a million and a half years, i don't think ida ever guessed the content of my dreams last night or this morning and since i blabber while i am asleep- i was kinda scared to wake up and find the unibomber missing. i wondered if i had said something incriminating that sent him stomping out. he never gets up before noon, for one, and for two, if i did blurt out something 'bad' then oh fuck, it's gunna be another one of THOSE  kind of days- like yesterday. i looked around before i went to hunt him down, he's been known to keep 'notes' on shit i've said, and i wanted a heads up on what i may or may not have went and said. i was only trying to be the good guy in my dream- which is actually SICKENING and the topic of a whole other post- as well as years of counseling sessions, or a lengthy hospital stay. when i found the unibomber, thankfully, he was only taking a shit and made no mention of anything i may or may not have said. it was at that time a giant wave of relief passed over me and i decided to write this and go back to bed. whew.

down to the taiL

dear ate it anyway diary,

i'm not hungry still from mexican food so i heated up the leftover chinese from last night and then the unibomber wanted the burner. so i thought it was hot and scooted my pan over to the free burner which was cold and i had no intention of heating it up. see here is how i do leftover chinese food the next day, which is fucking actually better and ima just start doing it the day i get the shit, CHINGA IT WORKS FOR MEXICAN SHIT TOO,  you dump it all in a big ass pan and mix it together- rice and noodles- beef and chicken and everything. omg it's so good. so now ima whale.... a happy whale.

no comment (i thought it was funny tho)

dear new fingernail buffer diary,

everybody needs a little time away from their old fingernail files and mine all went into the trash earlier and i replaced them with brand spanking new ones. that was a LONG time coming. i got a new color of fingernail polish too, which i intend on using tonight. believe me when i admit to you, the last thing i needed on earth was another bottle of fingernail polish, but i wanted it- had to have it. i learned something this evening when the unibomber and i argued and i threw him out. he didn't leave- except for to get a fucking pizza. i dunno why he wants to keep bein like he is. i suppose it is easier than changing.

Supertramp

yourDAILYrealiT check (in the mail)

dear my little friends that have no house diary,

i like my new little buddies i've made. i've grown especially fond of this one gal i been calling 'daily.' she likes juice newton and once i found that out, well- i think it was at that point i knew we were twat mates. i'm slowly figuring out where she lives, so that when i get enough money saved up, i'll be able to buy a house by where she lives and stawk her on a regular vacation basis. i fairly certain she's on the west coast, which is good for me because i've been looking to buy some west coast property for a long time now and this will give me another incentive. i found out yesterday we are around the same age, i'm a tiny bit older, but then i always am, and she commented how i needed a tan, which means she is prolly darker and dark skin drives me wild because i don't tan. something tells me she can cook too, i dunno why, but i'll just betcha she can fix all the things i cant and i'll betcha i can make all the things she cant. and check this out... we are both crazy about sex and neither one of us are lesbo's, but we talk about twats- it's crazy. if i could change one thing about her though, i'd make the bitch wear boots and shorts- AND SHAVE HER THIGHS. ima whore that believes women should shave their thighs. for real.

my house is turning

dear bright light morning diary,

the sun is really shining through my window causing my curtain to be fully illuminated. around this time of year my house always turns and makes the sun hit different on it. i used to think the sun moved but i know now how dumb that is. my house moves- because it is much smaller than the sun- duh. i didn't even feel it move this year either- and i fucking waited around this time. i put a big bowl of water on my dresser and watched it and i couldn't tell- but the unibomber said it happened while i was sleeping prolly. i don't understand it though, because my house wont move back, next year around this time, it will just move again. one year i am afraid my house will be turned all the way around- which wouldn't be so bad really- cuz then the sun wouldn't wake me up shining through my window in the morning.

beggin for a pardon

dear rose garden diary,

suppose you promised me a rose garden and up grew a weed patch instead. i wouldn't be upset if it was good quality weed. i am serious. i would much rather have weed than roses any day. there are prolly those who would be upset, but not me. i'd be happy. i saw a handsome man in walmart last nite buying flowers for his little woman at home prolly. i would be upset if my handsome man brought home flowers from the local walmart. you cant smoke those. i'll give you the name of my florist if you want to get me flowers i will enjoy. i'll be putting them in the freezer for a year from october- which is just right around the corner now!

your passport to beauty

dear behind every good post there is a cuntface diary,

up late again with a hair in my chin. i just ate a donut. it was good but the milk was better. fuck me i ain't been full in a week. i really haven't been awake long enough to eat. i got the dog two of the meat rolls, so he's good now for a minute. he really likes that fresh dog food shit. becky gets off on it too, but i don't give her as much. i wanted to change my background tonight and i did and now, i am laughing out loud. sorry for the pause you guys don't know about, but there was one. i laughed my ASS off at work tonight too. i done some ornery shit. i dunno what else anyone would expect from me, but that's fine. i had fun with it- even pissed in my pants a little. my background will change again soon, i promise, but in the meantime- SHOUTOUT CUNTFACE!

i hate toast

dear why even watch diary,

i've got a few extra minutes now that all my polish is off. ima repaint tonight- prolly some hot red color for the long weekend hibernation. i like waking up with red nails. it keeps me awake a few extra minutes gazing at them. sometimes it is hard to make up my mind which one is the most perfect. sometimes i think it's my thumb on my left hand, but then i think it's my index finger on my right hand. but both of my birds are phenomenal in nature so i dunno. and my pinkie on my left hand is so perfect- much more shapely than my right- i think. my ring finger on my left hand has a lump in it but my right one doesn't and my index finger on my left hand has a much deeper curve to it than the other. all my fingers are bent. i don't like air bubbles in my polish either. i'm kinda anal about that. so i don't let the chinese paint on me.

what's that SCREEN name again?

dear petunias on the porch step of the ex diary,

yeah, that number 3 will getcha every single time, and i hate being third. i hate being second. being first is usually better than being last and i say usually because there are exceptions. like being last ain't so bad when you getta go ahead and, "take what's left," on top of what you were supposed to get. and sometimes the greedy fucks have come on through and got what was thought to be 'cream of the crop,' and done left you the goldmine. i like that part of being last. the big end of the stick- the fat end- the tender side of the t-bone. being first and gettin choice is always fun, it makes you feel good when they call your name on the ticket. it's best to have more than one name- so that you have more than one ticket.

the dust roller

dear picking up lint diary,

i never realized how volatile little fuzzy pieces of fabric were. i mean wow. but anyway things are really heating up around here. i threatened to go to the bank and the unibomber blew a fuse. fucking snapped. he started playing mexican music to the big brother feeds and everything. i figured this was indeed a good time to post and then maybe slip off to take a bath and then hope the money i pried from his tight little ass will be still where i hid it when i get out of the bath. i don't like him. i need gas and a meat roll for the dog. how much does he think will be left? he really gets on my nerves and while i do my damnedest to get on his- it never does seem to be quite enough. i could still go to the bank anyway. he's so dumb.

good thing i am still in bed

dear two days in the bed diary,

after sleeping two full days with breaks of wakefulness, i find myself energized completely and still yawning. tell me that ain't the dumbest thing you ever did read in your life ever. i've decided not to go to go back to bed though, ima stay awake, just lay back here on my pillow and make myself comfortable again as i blog for a moment before i try and run a brush through my hair for the first time this week. then i thought i'd go down and put the clothes in the dryer that i started earlier so i might have clean pajamas if i decide to take a bath later- but i haven't thought that far ahead yet, but i wouldn't hurt to start i suppose. it always feels good once i get into the bathtub, but getting in there just is the hard part. now i feel like i may need a nap because all this talking about taking a bath and laundry has all but worn me the fuck out.

poppiN the corK

dear forgetting the words diary,

i just woke up again. what a short but long day yesterday was. now i am starving again. today marks my seventh full month here on the blog. i'll never forget moving in here. it really was strange. since coming here i have visited many cool blogs. some blogs are more complicated than others and i've found that the more simple ones are the ones i like the best. i don't like reading long postings either and i hate seeing pictures of kids. one picture is fine of a kid- but i don't wanna see a whole giant page. ick. even when my kid comes- i ain't that whore who will over post pictures of her. i promise. twenty three thousand five hundred and seventy five stawkers in seven months- i don't quite know what to say about that. hot sauce or sour cream?

screens in the window

dear my mouth is open again diary,

here we are, up two hours and guess who is yawning again. at least i get good jaw exercise. i cant wait til the baby gets here. i'll be able to out sleep her. we can be on the same exact schedule- shitting and everything else. i cant wait to smell her tiny head and hold her feet while she's sleepin. i used to do that to the boys. i love the lips of babies and their chins. i'm getting ahead of myself again though, i've got just a few more months before that time gets here- so ima stock up on all the sleep i can get. maybe i'll try and get up tomorrow- but maybe not.

10 YEARS TRYING TO FEED THE SAME GOAT (at the zoo) I FEED THE MONKEY NOW

dear is it morning yet diary,

i am awake finally. at first i wasn't, but now i am. i figure now that the sun is finally down- i'll get out of bed for a little bit anyway. gosh i wished i'd adhered to this policy all of my adult life. ida saved myself a ton of trouble and heartache and prolly made a hell of alot more money too, if i sit and think about it. how can you harass someone by leaving them alone? that is the question on my mind now. it sounds a bit off, but the more i think about it, i can see how someone who didn't think quite right in the first place could think that way. head butt me on the way down mother fucker, i ain't into beating my head against a brick wall- ten years of making a fool of myself is about plenty for me or anybody else iffin you'd ask them. the message couldn't be clearer had it been written on a white painted wall in my own fresh blood, you would never love me the way i loved you and you never could. it wasn't because of where i was either, you were willing to play around with her, and she is legally married with that gift you were always so glad you were never given. this is a post that will not be around long, i wrote it and it's wrong. i may leave it, but it will change- because like the love i once had for you for so long- has changed forever and now too is gone.

make it simple

dear dying of hunger while sitting in the bed diary,

i have finally realized how i am losing all my poundage without doing anything while staying in the bed all day. i aint eating. i'm doing sit ups too because i am laying down and them sitting back up to get to my laptop to post and then laying back down and then sitting back up to get to my phone to text. you get the picture. i cant lay back now because becky is on my pillow at the moment and i would too because i've been sitting up over an hour now. let me tell you, ima have to get up i a little bit. i cant stay inn bed all day, or wait, the day is over- i already did. shame on it.

cantaloupe heads

dear it hurts it hurts it hurts diary,

tell me why it hurts. it feels like there is a big boot on my chest. it may be time to put my bra back on and call it a day. even my tears are flowing again. and to think it all started with a bear picture. well fuck it. he should have known better. what happens when you take your best steaks out of the freezer and lay them on the counter and walk off and leave them for about 7 full months? what will happen? think about it? about four hours after you take them out of the freezer- the steaks will be thawing nicely and then soon after- they will be thawed completely. then not long after that, those steaks will be room temperature and bacteria will begin to grow. then, a couple of days in the future- the meat will begin to sour and then stink and a few days later- really stink and then a week later OMG, foul, and then a month later- something dead looming in the air. but after 7 months- the smell may fade and you when throw the meat away- you realize how much time has gone by and you think, "wow, i wasted all that good ass meat. good thing i dig fish."

not where he'd hoped to've ended up...
prolly.

lip balm for sore nipples

dear tits diary,

i haven't had my bra on for a day and a half and it feels good, except when my nipples get hard for no reason and that is annoying as all get out. my breasts are sensitive in the nipple region and i think it is because i keep them packaged up most of the time and they don't get roughened up much. i like the feeling of free falling sometimes because my long ass hairs often get wound up in my bra and cause me to itch and that drives me nuts. not only that, but wearing a bra is hot and binding- restricting sometimes- or it can be- depending what you are doing at the time. don't get me wrong though, bras are comforting too, a woman likes having her breasts held tightly and securely to her body in a safe and loving manner. but there are those times when she just wants to let everything go and put her hair down and relax too- for two or three days.

peachy keen

dear every year diary,

when the basement door comes off around this time of year, i know it is about time for the wagon to arrive with one of the few reasons to live in illinois. daddy doesn't dress up in a lifesaver costume when it is his year to go down to the farm and wag the supply home, but maybe he ought to. i went last year- we alternate. in my opinion, these little gems are simply nature's feeble attempt to keep the residents who remain in illinois here IN illinois, and maybe to draw others to come as well. the tomatoes help too, and the sweet corn, and the green beans and apples, but you don't have to drive all the way to georgia for the best of the best of the best peaches in the whole wide world. they are right here in southern illinois. right next to our farm- down at the old hatchery. and these babies are grown in rich black soil, not red clammy clay.

bath time in the puddle

dear every morning when i wake up diary,

there has to be a whore somewhere who wakes up feeling the same way i do, relieved she isn't a whore anymore, yet still clinging to the title like some kind of rodeo queen. it's who i am and i don't want to change, but i'm glad i never really was one. i like the stigma you see, but actually dipping myself into the dirty water where whores go. well, that is a whole different box of fruit.

scratchin on the 8-ball

dear on my chest again diary,

for some reason becky is diggin layin on my bare naked chest tonight. i'm slowly allowing her to resume her rightful position on the food pole. the grump is officially back to his normal weight and i am finally again at my optimal cruising weight when i weighed in yesterday at the doctors office- so i couldn't be more pleased in the weight factor around here. all my clothes are fitting- and even my winter shit's gunna be lookin good this year. last year i had all that added stress (lol) and this year that is ALL GONE. i'm happy with my body because it is so beautiful. it keeps me healthy and strong and alive and it gave birth to the two most amazing children. my body is soft and warm and clean and i am so lucky. i've now realized the beauty in my own skin.

call CBS- he can play NADIA'S THEME

dear immediate response diary,

all i have to do is lay my head near hers and she will lay her head directly on top of mine and i fucking love that shit. i love it even more when her neck smells good. the unibomber is having a full fledged conversation with me right now to which he thinks i am fully engaged because i am bobbing my hair bun as i type and he talks, but i cant hear a word he says. if he asks me for a book report or review i am so fucked- so fucked. my back is to him and he knows all to well i cant hear and must read lips so- that's on him. he keeps his lips obstructed most of the time anyway, double obstructed in fact, with a mountain of facial madness hair AND a puff cloud of cigarette smoke. he's done talking and back picking on the guitar playing the soap opera theme to the live feeds of big brother. i moved from the living room in here to the bedroom to get away from him lol and HERE HE IS... and both dogs. something tells me if i move back to the living room... HERE THEY'LL COME.... and the unibomber too.

pitchin a bitchin tent

dear fuck me forget it diary,

i am not a big fair lover, but it was kinda fun. it's weird i always get to park in the same exact place every year i go, which isn't every year, so that is weird ain't it? and i never pay and all the places around me do pay and i've never paid- all these years. it's like they think i am famous and never ask me for money. i never stay but like an hour and tonight i told the gate master we had to drop some papers and shit off to my dad at the grand champion sale AND IT WORKED! the unibomber and i got in the fair for free and went straight for the dippin dots. then to the expensive freezer meat. seeing that leather ass and t-bone steaks made my mouth water. i always wonder where that high dollar cow will go. what will happen to him? what lucky ass butcher will see the inside of his ass? will they stuff the head? on the way back to the car i got a slice of pizza and a lottery ticket. even though i won $18 dollars, it sure wasn't enough to rent out that cow, not even for a hand job.

eating an egg bonus

dear bring it on home daddy,

undeniably, i am not like your average whore. i am slightly different. i require less, i may produce less, but give so much more. i am full of what makes life worth living. you'll want to wake up in the morning with me and it's hard to decide when to go to bed at night and way more fun to run out of gas. burping the bubbles up is so much fun- nobody likes a time limit- i don't even like to keep score. i just want to lay in the grass and look at your face some more. since you wanted to go all balls out on me- that was the cracked end result and the path you chose to take. ima go to my grave with the "sweetest little pussy any man ever tasted in his life," and you go on and keep your balls farmed out and stay married to your cuntface wife. SHOUT OUT MOMMY CUNTFACE!

the powers of oral presentation

dear long time coming diary,

the light finally did come through the trees. never mind the date, or maybe i did mind the date and that is why it was even that much more exciting. a little secret belated birthday present to myself- of all things. it was sweet though, so very sweet. it was surprising, the gift from the pencil. stripping all the way down to what is normally not commonly expressed in that relationship, but what a warm and welcomed and exciting burst of lovely memories to flood the afternoon it certainly was. powerful and toe curling- magical- mystical- honest.

the car wash sweat cow, $35,000 or a big cheap steak

dear sale of the grand champion diary,

ima slip my overalls on and slide over to the fair tonight and hide my identity and watch the sailing of the grand champion livestock. i love cows and shit. i have the sweetest outfit to wear where not one single person will ever know who the fuck i am either and i'll prolly be on the news. one year we ate a hit of LSD and went over to watch that shit and had THE time of our lives. i'm a little old to be eating the trippin shit now, honestly, but i'll still wear the tripper clothing. the hat i have to wear over my long blonde braids is fucking RIGHT ON TIME. i placed second in the hog calling contest that year, and had i of won, they'da stripped me of my title if they'da found out of all the enhancement drugs i was on. i think acid makes you scream louder. i still didn't win though, and i was kindof glad. i wanted to get the fuck out of there. tonight though- i just want to blend into the background- in my overalls- my big brimmed straw hat- my wide sunglasses- my braids- and my pot stalk hanging out of my mouth- and my handkerchief hanging from my back pocket. you cant be a loser when you're dressed like a winner. wait....i don't think there is a prize for me- is there?

vote for the split cookie breast implants

dear no reason unpolitical diary,

if i had a fucking half a cent for every time i've now found out that the hero lied to me, i would have enough money to pay what little i owe on my house, buy a new car, go on an extended vacation, AND get breast implants. keep always in the front of your mind though, he only had the opportunity to actually lie to me for about five years- so i banked. increase the value of those lies- or give the hero more time- holy bat fuck- we'd be talking BILL GATES (ewww did i say BILL?) slap my hands. i've had an awesome couple of days reasoning with myself and i dont play by my rules anymore. my rules suck donkey dick. all bets are off. it is time to rearrange the furniture in my head. take down that crazy artwork i've looked at for so long and paint some new pictures. oreo's have really come down in price everywhere- haven't they? have you noticed that? you don't really have to wait for them to go "on sale" anymore. they are so cheap and easy to find- anyone can afford them. abraham lincoln once spouted, "no man has a great enough memory to become a successful liar." i'll bet abraham had a much bigger penis than the hero and that is NO LIE. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE!

it's a rush; i know you're crushed

dear and for whatever reason diary,

i thought this year would be different. HA. the little bastards are back. i am talking about the little YELLOW APHIDS for those of you just catching up. i fucking hate them. they always get on my hoya plant, the plant that didn't die, and you guys, THEY ARE ALL OVER THE MOTHER FUCKER AND I JUST NOTICED TODAY. i would have normally prolly noticed by now but i ain't been spending time with my jungle like i usually do on the count of the grump almost died. so i been letting the unibomber water them. because really- i dint give a flying fajita this year. which shocked me too- because the year started out like any other- and then my interest in my beloved greenery just fucking dropped off. i'm hoping it picks  up again for next year otherwise my lifelong addiction and devotion to my plants will have been a waste and ima find good homes for them all and start a new hobby- like increasing my chin hair collection or polishing my groovy rocks. maintaining my rocks can be a grueling challenge, especially when all i want to do is throw them at people. but there are only certain ones i will part with. the special ones will never leave my hand no matter how close a target is. i love my rocks that much.

capsules or liquid or fairy powder in a dish?

dear bringing me up to speed diary,

it will always be hard to understand why things happen the way they happen sometimes, but if you just sit back and accept them- swallow down the medicine you are given, it'll make the pain go away. that is what medication is for anyway- to make things better- right? so that's why we all go see the doctor. i'm glad i ain't a doctor. i ain't a very good puzzle master. figuring out things was never my strongest suite. i can follow the ball, but i never can seem to get it through the fucking hoop. i ain't a basketball player either- it turns out. i cant play football and last time i played baseball- i passed out when the ball came flying towards me. space and time- time and space- i know i fit in somewhere. it will still be more harder for some than others to figure out why things happen the way they happen, especially when some may have the inner powers to change them, but thank goodness there will always be the medicine to make the sting less.

limited edition

dear cake and something snarky diary,

today being the goat's birthday, i'm doing absolutely jack snot shit to celebrate it because i am so done with any and all emotional connection to the goat, i don't even laugh about it anymore because it ain't even funny. he told me something so profound a long time ago (eleven years in october- whoever counted) and it went pretty much something to the exact words like these coming next, "Certain People Come InTo Certain People's Live's For Certain Reasons..." and then the mother fucker (the goat) wouldn't tell me any of the reasons. he left me to figure out this burning question that i always had in my mind, especially when i thought of him. i thought of him alot, at times more than others and always more than i should have, but i liked the goat. i felt safe with the goat. friends i am here to tell you as i sit boldly on my bed, goats are not pets and they belong locked in the shed. that goat bit me and bit me hard is what he did- then he accused me of switching over to the DARK SIDE and then he ran off and hid. it took me all this time to figure out what he meant- he always talks in little riddles. all the times i used to cry i can now almost giggle. i still don't know the reason he came into my life, and frankly i don't need to know anymore. i am certain of that.

stop collecting twice per the weak

dear scrubby feet diary,

it isn't very exciting to sleep at my house on tuedsays, oh my gosh no. especially not since they started up that new recycling program and i am so gung whore about it. i recycle everything now. i really don't even need the regular garbage service, but they make you keep it. the trucks that come are SO LOUD when they get here and when the windows are open, oh wow, it is three times as loud. for a while, garbage dude and i were not seeing eye to eye. i was having problems finding medication to prevent my migraine headaches from stress and lying so much about fucking around with the hero- and that garbage man would pull up every monday and thursday playing LOUD music and wake me up and finally i went outside and snapped. that garbage man don't come around here no more.

ovens in the okaw valley

dear did you get in this diary,

i hate it when people ask me that shit. ima hafto go get in the bank prolly. i dunno. i might not. it could go either way really. do i wanna blow money on shit i don't need? or should i make the unibomber pay for the shit we do need? humm.... let me think awhile here... so on the agenda next, the tomatoes on my counter. i have to turn those into catsup. it is much easier turning tomatoes into catsup than turning water into wine, but it is a terrible fucking process. i think blanching the tomatoes is prolly the worst part. it is the first step that must be completed because the peeling from a tomato will curl up and fuck everything up. i core my tomatoes then too. it's just stupid not to. so ima clean my stove tomorrow and do that. i need to clean my oven one of these fine days and cool nights before thanksgiving pops up and slaps the side of my fat head. i ain't cooking in a dirty oven. and i ain't cooking catsup all day on a dirty stovetop either. eww.

the grump could be borderline personality

dear growl at me again diary,

whenever i lay on him all he wants to do is growl at me and raise his voice like he's gunna try and say something, but he never does anything but run his mouth. sometimes i reach in his mouth and touch his teeth while he's growling- just to give him a dental exam while his mouth is open. he doesn't seem to mind much, i mean, it doesn't piss him off- hell- i can stick my whole hand down his throat anytime i want to. he wont do shit to me. but i'd hesitate quite promptly if i didn't know him, or if he was pissed off at the unibomber for one reason or another- i cant get him pissed off like the unibomber can. there is a lever of hate there i ain't never seen. but the grump chases after the shit so i dunno. fucker has him whooped.

direct withdrawl

dear it's beginning to look alot like shitmas,

in my next life, i will learn how to use a pencil or a pen- at least as a weaPON. i haven't been horny for a minute. so that's good. i thought about cleaning out one of the cars, but that ain't going to happen with the mosquitoes biting as hard as they are. i've only watered my plants a few times this summer, so it's good to know if i really did die or go to prison the unibomber could keep them alive during my avation period. even the plant i thought would die hasn't died- and i've barely paid any attention to it at all. i guess when you leave things alone to heal- somethings actually will- even under the care of someone else that is a compete idiot. but maybe ima idiot too and the fucking plant cant tell who is takin care of it.

hungry like a HERPE wolf

dear dinner time diary,

if my jail keeper doesn't bring me dinner soon ima die. i really am. i've not been fed yet today and i believe this to be a cruel and unusual punishment. not even so much as a cracker has met my lips and my stomach has weird noises going on inside there and i believe to have lost somewhere in the upwards of 7 pounds in the last 11 hours alone. i will dwiddle away to supermodel weight at this rate in about prolly 2 or 3 years. i'm lucky i am a whale. lol. liposuction didn't do shit for me- i shoulda went for the whole body tuck option. i think they start at your hair line and just start pulling. fuck i dunno. when people start telling you that you don't look your age- that is when you know you are starting to look fucked up. fucking it is so weird too, i've been trying to convince folks i was older since the day i knew i wanted to be older and even now. i still tell people i am older because the age i am today is an UNLUCKY FUCKING NUMBER THAT I PERSONALLY CAN NOT STAND. so i add two or three years to it. i'ma do the same thing when i'm 47 too, cuz there ain't NO WAY ima tell anyone i'm HERPES unless i'm in court under oath, where i can lie LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.

at the rest area

dear northbound without a sound diary,

headed for the cheetos i think is what i want for breakfast, unless i change my mind half way in there and get something else. the dipwad unibomber has fried chicken on his mind, but all my birds are frozen- so i dunno what his intentions will be. i need to go get me some new dog shampoo so that the animals in my house can have a different smell about them. neither have fleas and the vet said there is no need to use medicated shampoo if they don't have the need for it. i was thinking the smell good kind was in order. i love the way becky just flops down and folds up like a chair when she sits. i dunno where she got that from. it sure is good to be back home again.

the piece of paper on his head

dear hey now diary,

prince william and my dad are down at the farm getting peaches. i think this is about the latest the little contenders have ever come on- at least in my lifetime anyway- dad seems to think they've come later. so i am awake now. people have been twittering me ALL MORNING. i am really starting to get the hang of twitter and i might even like it. becky is laying to the east of me- which is odd- she usually lays in the middle. i think she wanted the window seat. anyway.... ima strip down. these flannel pajamas are ALL OF A SUDDEN way tooooooo hot.

fast rewind up your behind (in the ear)

dear i wish diary,

he licks and sucks at her ear like there was milk coming out of it and i sure wish someone would lick my ear like that i am not kidding. i would hold still too, just like she does. ima take a nap here in a bit. i've already been up a good part of the morning. don't ask me why either because i sure cant tell you. things popped back into place fast this time, thankfully. i dunno WHAT got in to me. AGAIN. wtf. shake it off. i'm all better now. back to planet earth. saddle up. i don't know why i watch commercials when i hold the remote in my hand. it truly is almost time to start thinking about turning the power back over to someone who knows how to flip the switch better anyway. what about it? if anything proves disastrous, it is someone at the wheel who cant change the tire. it's a good question that deserves some kind of fucked up answer someday- just not now. i am tired. i would fall asleep faster if he would lick my ear prolly, but since he wont, i'll just rub his until i fall out.

cherrios and an anchor weight

dear my kid diary,

price harry woke the unibomber up taking a shower this morning. i was already awake because i had to let the pups out. the unibomber snapped into about 41,000 pieces. now my eye is twitching. then next i got in trouble for clearing my throat, but i was a bit dramatic about it- kinda going on and on and on for no reason. i dunno what made me do it- the kid in me i suppose. i wish i could have farted because ida done that too, just because ima start doing that more now i think. fuck the unibomber. becky has resumed her natural place in the bed again. the bitch gets up here and WONT go. so that means river (aka the grump) is officially 100% cured. and not a moment too soon. his last dose of antibiotics was this morning!

marching to the red beets

dear take it from there diary,

finding out along the way is what i am supposed to know will happen after i decide to realize that is what i am gunna do right? is that a question? i'd think so since the mark at the end of the sentence tells me it is. but who am i asking. it's a dumb question anyway. i don't have any reason to discuss or maintain my influences on anything that doesn't mean shit to me and nothing does really because i wont let it. nothing is something and something is nothing. what else is there. a drummer?

for the pig in the house

dear hi-c orange and some cookies diary,

i deserve a snack after all that work i just did painting my snails. man they look t-fuckingriffic. they are "you're such a kabuki queen" and kinda sorta more pink than i like, but the grump is sure getting fat- like a pig fat. it's like we are taking him to market fat. things are looking good for the fat ass grump. he hunched over and took a massive shit tonight and i know how that feels. i really made a huge fuss when he came back inside too, rubbing him ALL up and down his body and patting him on his head and kissing him on his sweet snout. i get so happy when he shits because i know that everything is working correctly. everyone knows what it feels like when you cant shit, so it has to be the same for a dog. that's why i painted my fingernails pink.

miles per hour per day per the weak

dear lesson learned and disaster avoided diary,

i have little spies that work so hard for me and a prison keeper that keeps me under lock and key. at times i think i have some kind of mental defect and then other times i read the DSM IV and cant find anywhere i belong really. i want to belong to some club- and someday i prolly will, but not this one. not this time- distance drawn and mileage counted. now i have my tail between my legs again. i'm laughing at myself, but not for why you may think. it has long been known- YOU CAN LEAD A WHORE TO WATER BUT YOU CANT MAKE HER DRINK.

old and ugly

dear if you look at me diary,

if you look at me and i seem different today, it is because i am. i don't much like you anymore. you make all my friends go away and call me a whore. the sun is changing in the sky again. i see it through my window every year i see it, always around the same time. the sun changes, but i cant. i do my time here. if i had it all to do over again, believe me- i would. ida worn purple everyday to make you stay away- if only i would have known. the pain in my shoulder gets worse as i get older but i will get relief from it someday. i know that it is stress and it matters none how i dress and it is my own choices that will make the hurt go away.

the funny farm ain't even funny

dear i have decided diary,

i think i know what my problem is now. i just woke up. i don't get enough sleep. ima work on that. there are 168 hours in a week this week, starting 13 hours and 41 minutes ago and ima sleep 141 of them and i am off to a good start. i was asleep at midnight and i was only up for an hour to let the dogs out, post, pee, and feed the grump his delicious nutritious medicated breakfast and now i am awake again. i have absolutely nothing that requires my immediate attention this coming up week- so i will close up shop and set the alarm on tuesday to call my brother in virginia and wish him a HAPPY 28th BIRTHDAY and then go right back to sleep so i donut try to do the same thing to the goat (who is WAY older than 28).  

the school books

dear and just like that diary,

all of the progress i'd made in the peace keeping department has now gone away again. the unibomber is back to his pouting and pissed off ways. he thinks i'm the hero in this family and it sickens me. maybe i am. there are so many differences between what it takes to be the hero and how i am- omg it would be a never ending post to try and list them all. i'm not in some rat race to see how much sex i can have before my pussy rots away and i have to have it surgically removed. i'm not in to driving around for sex. i'm not into seeing how much dick i can get before i die. sex really isn't that important to me, i have to want it, crave it, desire it from a specific individual- want to give that man everything i have inside me- want to take everything he has to give- and that is a process- something that takes much time and effort. for me it takes love. i want the whole fucking package and 22 years later, the unibomber knows it. i am constantly reminded of the reasons i am not worthy of love. after all, i am a retarded whore. i point at the door, i get the boxes- i'm told i cant do this alone. i announce my children are grown now and that wont fly anymore- i am still a retarded whore. my balls get smaller- like they always do and i retreat back into my corner. becky and the grump all pile up and here we are. good thing i've never even met you.