the end of the day... cheetos i'll lay

dear last post before midnight diary,

yesterday when i realized cheetos taste better when you lay down and eat them, i know now i will never sit up and eat a cheeto again. the fuck if they don't taste completely different. i just feel like a new person for knowing this- like my mind has been opened up to a whore new world of experience and opportunity. you know what else i miss? the city sidewalks of west hollywood. i cant wait to taste the air there and smell it. it turns something on inside of me that makes me taste completely different- like a cheeto layin down. when i get to california- i instantly turn into a movie star. omg people always scream at me too. i wish i was lying. i'll never ever forget this one man, he was homeless on a bike, yet wore a suit with shiny shoes- he damn near killed himself to make sure i heard him call me a BITCH. i can almost see that man's face, but i couldn't pick it out of a crowd. he was an angry man- the suited guy on his bike riding somewhere that day. i cant remember if i responded to him or not, but iffin i had to guess, i'd say i did and it prolly went something like, "get a car!"

container yourself

dear today could be the best day of my life finally diary,

yep. i've done a lot of work for this day to finally fucking arrive. fuck me in the ass twat. oh and i remember the first time my other first other dream came true, how happy i was that day. then when my second dream came true, that was so fucking bad ass- i could hardly stand it. then you guys wont believe this and it is so hard to believe myself, but i got to do something hardly ANYONE ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH gets to do, i got to change clothes, literally slip on a new name tag, LITERALLY, and RELIVE MY SECOND LIFETIME DREAM ALL OVER AGAIN! i mean come on people! who gets that? so to have a day like today- roll around ON TODAY's DATE- well i dunno.... it baffles me. i won five thousand two hundred and twenty eight dollars- eight years ago today. i bought my mom a headstone for her grave- she'd been gone 20 years that year. it was another dream of mine crossed off the list. today on this, the 27th of august, i find myself satisfied finally. for i know my simple retarded words have echoed throughout this land. i have been set free of my duty today. my job has actually been completed, my mission accomplished. but i don't have to stop doing what i have grown to love, for i am now driven with this inner passion that i feel could carry me until i am at least the age of 97. i can now just blog with the sole purpose of entertaining myself and not trying to warn the world of the evil and nasty ways of the little willfire weewee. everybody already knows because the information is already out there.

alphabet me soup he wont text back

dear you think i am stupid diary,

for one, I DON'T GET UP at 7:17AM on weekends or during the week UNLESS: (a) my house is on fire. (b) i have to be in court. (c) i cant sleep. (d) i'm hungry (e) i had to pee or the dogs do (f) i'm hot (g) there is a gay man knocking at my window wanting his tiny dick sucked. (h) i heard a different noise. (i) my dad needs me. FOR TWO, i don't even know why you would send me a text, it seems pretty suspicious to me. I THINK YOU WERE: (j) asked to send me the text. (k) forced to send me that text. (l) possibly coerced into sending me that text, (m) paid a small fee to send that text. (N) JUST FORGOT LIKE I DID, AND SENT THE TEXT. (o) bribed to send the text. (p) loaned your phone out to a gay mother fucker who is working so he could send his own gay texts. AND TO WRAP THIS UP, i may be stupid, or even a slight bit paranoid, but these are the following reasons I DON'T CARE IFFIN I AM: (q) the pictures you sent to prove who you were supposed to be last year- i didn't like. (r) and beins the hero caught a glimpse two days ago- i could see that stirring up a need for his needing contact IT ALWAYS DID BEFORE, i ain't gunna risk it. (s) i told you to leave me alone. (t) do i need to threaten you? (u) do you fully understand. (v) there are at least 17 other women you can text. (w) some woman demand payment before services are rendered. (x) i didn't know (you) the cheap bastard would pay. (y) but i do now. (z) the end.

*a warm thanks to the person who noticed i forgot the stupid letter 'N' this post was revised at 3:41PM CST. for real- it was

my uncle bill

dear family tree of nuts that hang diary,

'lilly leanne' is what i first named becky when i realized she wasn't a 'berkeley' like i'd planned to name her. then after a couple of long days of being 'lilly leanne,' that name didn't fit her either. so then i got to thinking about all my cousins, i had a bunch growing up and my favorite uncle was uncle bill. uncle bill had seven kids and two that were grown. there names were, amy, becky, cindy, david, erin, martha, nancy, steven and thomas. the two grown boys, steve and tom- they were from uncle bill's first marriage and we never saw those two except at funerals. martha and nancy- born to the second marriage, were around more- but still not like amy, becky, cindy, david, and tiny erin- who were all children by his third and youngest wife franny, who looked like a child herself. i'd like to think ida named becky what i did even if ida never known the hero ever in my life, but he did used to say that name so much back in those sinful ugly days. becky was my favorite cousin after all, the one closest to my age and my favorite one with whom to play. i just don't want anyone to think i named her for any other reasons than the ones i've stated- plus i can name her what i want- she's my dog anyway. and when i got her- she wouldn't stop necking me. i said... "gimme that becky!"

roll rite over on top of me

dear managed to do it again all night diary,

how badly i told myself i needed the early retirement last evening for sleeping, but i went straight into twat mode and sat here like some freak until i got called a 'BITCH' because some stupid non gender specified twatter decided to mis-interpret or mis-read my twit. instantly my blood pressure rose and i had to eat a piece of cake with whipped cream. people are so fucking stupid, but thank goodness i am used to the high stress and i can deal with it. i have ways. i sure do wish irene would fly on over to my house. we haven't had ANY rain in 60 days. things are dried up and dying around here.

hope this helps explain

dear in the event diary,

let's say the stars all aligned once october 1st. then we'll say the stars continued to stay lined up through several octobers and unaligned abruptly and now are SCHEDULED to realign again on OCTOBER 1, 2012. would that be a scenario that would be tough to buy? it ain't hard for me to sell. i got the proof on paper. i've always been so fond of the month of ten. since i was a little girl it has always ALWAYS been my favorite month of the year- even over december or my birthday month. late september and every day of october and early november is the greatest in illinois. i love long sleeves and shorts AND BOOTS. there is no possible way the judge could have known the day he releases me from my CONDITIONAL DISCHARGE on october 1, 2012, that i'd met the hero SEVEN YEARS to the day earlier, but ima be sure and tell him when i go to court of the irony. so, thanks to the "day counter," i know i have 365 + 35 + 1 days left now.

design flaw

dear itching my boob like a madman diary,

every time i stand on top of the world while wearing my pink bra with flowers on it- my boob itches. it's a tight little bra, my pink one, and the way it's made is retarded. it comes together right across the center of the cup and right across my nipple and just fucking drives me insane. usually by the time i take it off ima bout ready to fucking make my tits bleed with sandpaper. i didn't bring a change of clothes when i climbed up here to stand and wearing no bra as i look down feels funny- but i'll do it if i have to. there is a slide to get down from here- thank goodness- and actually it is the trip down that what brings me back up to enjoy the view. i think i will wear my black bra next trip up there and throw my pink flower bra over the edge.

the plunger

dear i took the room on the shelf diary,

taking a backseat to the closet space i don't have, i made lots of shelves all over my house. bunches of stupid shelving units that you prolly wouldn't see ordinarily in a house of my size- it makes it bigger. if i had my way- i might just have a row of shelves around the ceiling- maybe two rows of shelves around the ceiling. then i would not just store things up there- but display cool items alone up there to look at AND collect dust. i believe a certain amount of dust keeps a person healthy. it really does. if things are too clean- your body cant fight off the 'ick' in life. it's kinda like washing your hands all the time- i think. i like my home to be modestly lived in with a even plateau of dust, clutter and decoration- with shelving and the daily necessities running the gamut of pulling it all to a head. as long as i know where all my shit is, and the dust on remains undisturbed, i know it hasn't been fucked with since i dusted it last and that's what makes me happy.

indifferent to pressure

dear reporting issues diary,

say i was having an issue, who would i report that to? you guys? great. i knew there had to be someone willing to hear me out. i don't seem to have issues like other people do and i am a bit concerned at a toll this could have on me at a later date. the impact, everyone has one now and then, but i'd like to prevent issues. it ain't a game if mincing words, and i hate playing truth or dare with a liar. in the meantime, this issue i have- my strategy is to find someone to just take my report, record my word, and dare to give me the policy of truth. 

jingle on the key

dear moderate to profound diary,

it just blows me away how stupid my bangs are. i have a long piece that is socially awkward and doesn't seem to fit in anywhere. i have heard everything from star wars to californication's theme song tonight amplified and ima have to admit- it's like having a concert bedside. i hate concerts because i've had really bad times at several over my life. i might go see reba mcintyre or JUICE NEWTON iffin i had the chance, but i believe in my heart- i don't wanna see anyone who sings anymore. i think the stereo is fine for me. ima eat a small piece of cake- i was going to make more pudding- but the unibomber made a cake. ima squirt some whipped cream on it and think about sailing away.

where can i get some LADY JIZZ?

dear free food diary,

quite the imagination, my son has, for a boy. i always thought boys were dumb and most of them are... except... my two sons and my two fathers. prince harry came up with just a master plan tonight, claiming it's already worked for a family he knows. i am hoping it will be some time before i have to resort to such measures for our family, but it is nice to know the option is available if we were to ever need it. all you have to do is go to arby's, lol, and order anything you want- he says- and then call them up when you get home and tell them you opened up your sandwich to put arby's sauce or horseradish on it and you found "lady jizz," on your bun and they will send you gift cards and coupons and all kinds of stuff in the mail. now why didn't i think of that? fucking aye genius.

leave his shit alone

dear i got my eye on you diary,

she stops to look at the pile of shit in my yard that my dog left next to the driveway behind my own vehicle. it seemed to bother the lady that my dog decided to shit where he did. this woman thinks she is the yard police- governing my yard no less, at 1:30 in the morning. how did she even see the pile of shit? did she smell it? did it draw her from her fucking bed i wonder? is she related to cuntface? the bitch couldn't see me watching her have her UNRULY reaction to my dog because i was hidden behind my decorative tomato plant- which took over my entire porch (that miracle grow soil fucking kicks ass kids NO JOKE- i originally got it for my flower bed and this year planted one tomato plant and W.O.W.) and i just sat and listened to this stupid bitch rant to herself. the grump ignored her- and i was glad- ida hated to had to have pried him off of her- he hasn't had a new toy in a minute.

caught up at the beauty shop

dear which direction to go diary,

occasionally, the unibomber does get a haircut. one would swear it pains him with each snip, but he will get a clip every few years. it took about eight months of not shaving my legs to get him to finally shave that horrible beard he fucking grew off his face. he looked like a fucking terrorist and the fucked up part of it all- when he finally did shave it off- I DIDN'T NOTICE. i'm pretty sure he noticed i didn't notice, but bless his terrorist heart- he never said a word. i've been held captive here for many years, but waking up to a bearded captor like that month after month began to take a toll. the hair deal is working on me like that again now. it is scaring me. even though i have the facial recognition disorder- i have other triggers that will cause me to recognize you and a hairstyle or mustache and shit like that are huge triggers that help. i can recognize a penis though. i hope one of those never run out of the woods and hold me prisoner. i'll sure be able to pick that lil bitch out of a line up.

fatboy french fry neck

dear everything i touched tonight diary,

it seemed like i had the touch. i mean it was all right there in front of me and i just took it. it was like a little treasure hunt really. a scoop here- a scoop there and pretty soon- my pockets were still about empty. it was fun though, treasuring around- kicking my feet and making my presence known. having my sudden and quite severe hankering for extra crispy crinkle cut french fries and a cherry shake made with chocolate ice cream tonight- i couldn't get them in my mouth fast enough as i saw the fat ass hero pass on his big smoky road king. so that's what a road king looks like with a big fat daddy hero sittin on one and i thought, "wow, cuntface is lettin him troll around ALONE during RUSH HOUR," and that's when i got to see her too! in the tahoe. so that's what a happily TRUSTING married couple does when big fat daddy hero wants to take a ride now and cuntface doesn't- she grabs her keys and OFF THEY GO! i really enjoyed my dinner as i talked to the police officer from 4:51 PM until 5:25 PM in KFC parking lot so i could have an alibi for my whereabouts three minutes after any 'incident' could have happened. i helped a brother out and a brother helped me out and i didn't even have to go on a treasure hunt. i also got a free warrant check and i know my record is clear. so GET ON THESE NUTS AND SUCK. oh you would like that though wouldn't you. then forget that idea. SUCK ON CUNTFACE! SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. ENJOY YOUR PRIZE!

if the ever was a doubt

dear let there be none diary,

everyone should indeed... have a FORD escort lmao just sayin (wood & water don't mix).

the end.

sittin on the dock of the bed

dear second time around the wake-up wagon diary,

allaboard! i am awake again. i am not quite sure what that will mean yet. but it is true. i talked and  laughed in my sleep this go around- and woke myself up doing it. ima fucking retard when i sleep and i even disturb becky. she gets up and leaves and prolly goes somewhere quiet to sleep- i would imagine. what would be worse do you think? seriously? someone who snores their ass off or someone who laughs and talks? hey- if i'm pissed off at you- for real- just wait until i go to sleep and come over and we'll talk about it. when i wake up i usually do feel different about everything and come to think about it- i'll betcha that's prolly why. i'll have to sleep on that and tell you later.

a dry town that stayed wet

dear in the town where i used to live diary,

in my dream this morning, i was in the town where i used to live and there had been a huge flood. i had gone back to see the damage to everything and things were pretty bad. i found my way to the bowling alley, where a few people from town were gathered and drinking and smoking- by lamp and candlelight- as no power had been restored yet. i was immediately greeted by my old best friend- drunk kelly- almost the second i walked in the door and she was true to her name- drunk. somehow i got tricked in to admitting to kelly that i would have prolly went by her house at some point before i left, which made her feel good that i cared, and me embarrassed that i admitted it out loud in public in the way i had. this dream was different in the sense- i got to leave the town where i used to live that i came to visit in my dream- in my old car i used to have when i lived there. it was also true to form as well- because sometimes the passenger door wouldn't stay shut on my 79 pontiac firebird and i would run the seat belt through the door frame under the door panel along the bottom and that is exactly the way i had it in my dream. that car sure was fast.

big letters suck

dear i've lied to my people again diary,

it is so easy to be dishonest to those people. i told them i was going to paint my nails and watch king kong. i am watching the kong, but haven't so much as touched my paint yet. ima do it though, but it's an overlay. it'll be a fast job anyway. i 'lie' to them people all the time- to the point i got this one girl thinking i'm a COP. oh dear. i wish there was some way i could reassure her that isn't the case, but the more i try and do that- the more i'll prolly sound like one. i've had some really strange visitors to my blog lately- they've come from weird traffic sources. now, i dunno what that means, and it prolly don't mean nothing, but i just want anyone to know- i ain't skirred. i went back and checked and my postings are just as random and stupid as they were when i started january 18th. i only use the big letters when i am YELLING or when i say God. i don't like the big letters. they're so formal. 

oops i did it again (lmao)

dear call me brittany diary,

usually the unibomber lets the dogs out when he is awake because it is really unsafe for me to be seen at the door but since he was already playing his guitar to the big brother feeds, i, being the beautiful and kind whore that i can be every so often, got up and let them out. it was my third time out of the bed for the day- i was kind of excited to be up. so, i made myself a nice tall refreshing beverage while they were out strolling- and then i was ready to go back to bed. i opened the back door. there are no animals to be seen. so i yell in my normal yell voice, "animals, get in the house!" and no animals respond. so i again yell, "GET YOUR FUCKING ASSES IN THIS HOUSE NOW OR IMA BEAT YOU BOTH WITH BATS YOU STUPID FUCKS! really fucking loud and here they both come trotting happily to the door. i shut and bolted the door and came to bed and found the unibomber just laughing his ass off. i said, "what the fuck is up your ass?" and he just said, "look what time it is," and i looked and i guess it is kinda late to be screamin talking all normal to my animals.

WHAT WOULD CHARLES DARWIN SAY?

dear flossing my teeth diary,

while flossing my teeth a few moments earlier, a big leaf did fall out of my mouth. i was not only surprised at the size of the leaf that came from my mouth, but the speed in which it came out of there. that fucker was jet air propelled- i am almost positive- yet i dunno where it got its ignition. you will all most certainly assume it must have flicked off my flosser pick, but i can assure you- it came from the complete opposite side of my mouth. i suppose on the off chance it took a bounce off my lip and projected on out- yes, a possibility, but as wet as my mouth was a leaf that size, I THINK, would have stuck to the side somewhere along the way out. where did the leave come from? the origin of the leaf. fucking that is what is fucking eating at me too.

from WHORE to BITCH

dear i'm the one who stays up all night long diary,

i like having the freedom to switch my days and nights all around because it isn't fair that i had my life snatched away from me and after i fought so hard for it. that and to know the hero still continues in the SAME nasty behaviors as he did with me, EVEN AFTER ALL THE COURT DATES and explaining to his WIFE and looking the JUDGE IN THE EYE- he still does the exact same shit. i wont even so much as ENTER a chatroom and haven't since 2005, and twitter was the hardest thing to ever catch on to but- i like it now- it is safe- AND FUN. i no longer think i am special anymore- that was really hard to quit thinking- now they've been calling me a bitch lately- and i never saw that coming- but i think i could get used to it!

business as UNUSUAL (usually)

dear something is wrong in the bathroom diary,

not only is there a clean smell coming from it, i hear an unhealthy noise, some kind of banging noise and my imagination is running wild wondering what that could be. both animals are here with me and far from alarmed, so i suppose i wont worry that much- but still- it is the bathroom you know. i feel bad for it. the mayor in our town is a fat ugly fucker who has now decided to run for higher office. i dunno why he would do that. but whatever. nobody even ran against him in the race for mayor so it ain't like he won something by becoming our mayor. i have a hard time being behind someone who lets our city employees put their PENIS on the internet and join SWINGERS groups online, AND allows other city employees to BEAT THEIR WIVES, and get DUI'S, i mean, fuck i know we are all human, and I AM A WHORE, but where do we draw the line? decaturfireman changed his name to willfire AND RIDES FREE AGAIN. i'm still trixiethewhore.

dialing for dollars

dear idiot firemen and rescue personnel diary,

i've been trying to get some much needed rest all day and fucking fire trucks have been going by. i'd like to commend the idiots earlier because they honked before getting in front of my house- but these last fuckers had to be stuck  up the hero's ass. i was conversing with my friends the other day about how much i do so enjoy NOT having to worry anymore about that kind of stress, in fact i feel the opposite now. i know some of you are just getting on the bus so let me explain what i mean. for instance, before i would worry about someone falling OFF a ladder, and now i just hope someone does. before i would worry about kinks in the hose, and now i hope it gets clamped in half. i used to worry about fringe on his coat, and now i wished i had sewn in puffy flamable lint pockets. oh the stress i could undo, you don't have a clue, i would not be stupid again. but here i am, happy as a clam, hibernating until my day comes. AND IT WILL COME, TWEEDLE DEE DUMB, and until then ima sleep and twiddle my thumbs. AND GET WOKE UP BY IDIOT FIREMEN.

*please note: this poster does not think all fireman are idiots ONLY ONE W.G.W. this poster has high respect for all first emergency responders who truly are dedicated to their jobs and do not use their positions to find women (and men) to stick their dicks into. this poster feels that using a heroic job to 'woo' women ESPECIALLY while you are married to a cuntface psychotic wife is immoral and should be punishible by law. thank you. shout out cuntface. herpe infested BITCH.

old world charm

dear new box of q-tips diary,

a fresh box of q-tips is always a treat. but once you open them fuckers and let the humidity in- the remaining 498 of them bitches are all but ruined. what did they do in the old days before sandy q. tip invented q-tips anyway? fuck me- i couldn't live without them. i use them bitches for everything. i go through about a box a month prolly. i use quite a few on the grump. i wash his ears. right now them suckers are showroom clean, but i get a little water cap full of ocean water nose spray and i use that solution to clean out his ear cracks. for a dying dog, i'd say he sure is doing pretty dang good.

my dog pisses on a wanna be palm tree

dear one of these days diary,

how much will it take before enough is enough? i mention the word "california," in one of my few final postings before i shut my beady little eyes and BOOM guess where i spent my entire dream cycle. in my dream it always looks different though- there are only palm trees in certain places. the road to my aunt and uncle's house has palm trees lining both sides of the street. if you tilt the camcorder up as you are driving- you get that famous hollywood shot. i think it's tweedy lane if anyone wants to google earth it. we have a palm tree in the back yard now since the unibomber trimmed it to look like one. i'll take a picture and update this later for y'all to see. i ain't doing it now on the count that i barely have any clothes on and i'll get bit up by mosquitoes and prolly die of the west nile virus.

i'd love to get wet today

dear hot for a minute diary,

i just saw the damn forecast for the rest of the day, good grief there has to be a mistake. it says it's gonna get up to 100 degrees today and it was so nice yesterday. then weather dude said it was gonna rain and we all know that's a lie. i feel like going outside right now and rolling down my windows and washing the car because i know we ain't getting any rain. we need it so bad. the weather fucker even said, "hail," and i really had to laugh then, hail.... hail no. it sure would be nice to get some rain and i'd love to be wrong. but rain? i'll believe it when i see it.

going UP

dear giant 80ft crane diary,

that seems like a pretty big unit to do some heavy lifting- an 80ft crane. my mom took a picture of me sitting in a crane potato chip box when i was a toddler. it was prolly one of her favorite pictures, but i dunno for sure- if i had to guess i would say it was. i really don't have anything i'd like to use that big of a crane for, but if you did insist on bringing one over- i'd lift the roof off my house and build another story on it and then set the roof back down. that is all i can think of. i think that is how they build on houses in china- they build UP not OUT. i dunno, i've never been to china. i've been to california alot and i'm getting ready to go out there again. because i want to and because i can. that is- unless an 80ft crane shows up.

tap lightly- with your nails

dear raggedy ass impala diary,

turn around and i will show you where it's all at. now that you are turned around, ima get the fuck up out of here. it's all about callin a bluff and i ain't about to give up on my hand ramp. important dates on the calender are coming up again, but you aren't about to catch me on that one. i knocked all the wind out of you the first time we went through all that. every time you catch me ima lie my way out of it. wanted for gambling debts, arson and theft, he blew up a wagon load of explosives and sharks. he was a territorial partner and not one anyone would want to butter up with. it was an urgent request from his father that someone let him know what those men were after and their intentions with that woman. don't spill that stuff and take your dress off please- and your bra. move the chair and do not touch the glass with your finger.

do you own a car?

dear crispy new sheets diary,

as per requested, a new set of sheets were presented to me as a replacement for the old ones and now they have been applied in an appropriate fashion. i love resting a clean head on clean sheets and pillow cases. the turn down service here in this facility sucks- if you want it done right- you have to do it yourself. i prolly wont leave that much of a tip this time.

let's not panic

dear hard thereafter diary,

i think after the act of sexual intercourse the male member should deflate and go away. i just think that's how it should work. it seems like it would make a woman feel like her job isn't finished when you get done with a good pounding and look over and see an ultra large glazed mr.big fat leg just laying at there looking at you. i have this 'friend' who has this problem and i just don't know what to say to her. my 'friend' says she isn't allowed to touch the enormous thing after they get done fucking either. it just sits there and that is what i think i would have the most trouble with. i could not just sit around and look at something THAT SIZE (my friend says it's THAT BIG) and NOT get SOME use out of it. i taught the unibomber to cover his damn thing up at least, to be considerate.

nothing but a heartache

dear becky come back diary,

i know how it feels to have your one feeling hurt and i hurt becky's little feeling all the time. she doesn't have a steel coated feeling like the grump does. i swear- he was raised in a military environment and you can scream at him at the T-TOP of your lungs- it wont phase him. in fact, the grump will fucking talk back to you and run his mouth- often provoking an argument and one he WILL have the last word on. that just must be the difference in between boy dogs and girl dogs- the intensity level at which you can yell at them. i try not to say anything to her now when i need to yell and i've begun to point instead. well, i just tried that and she looks like i broke her heart and screamed louder than she's ever heard anyone scream ever in her life AND she left the room and WONT come back. all that i have left is the happy grump- who is belly up and loving his time alone in the bed here with me. it's a heartache. 

always wear a badge on your head

dear police donation people diary,

my ass is itching and the phone rang earlier and they want me to donate again to some police organization. i cant do it. i'm glad i saved the number in my phone from the last time they called so i didn't have to answer this time. the guy was really super cool about it last time he called though and sounded super sexy. i am NOT a badge chasing whore, i avoid badges and guys with cop haircuts even, because authority makes me anxious. i don't trust anyone with the power to fuck with people and their quiet lives anymore because i've seen how that shit can work man. mother fuckers can and will hide behind a badge- even a boy scout badge. i saw the hero tonight on the way home from dinner, it was an awkward moment in our vehicle- the unibomber not seeing the hero as i didn't see the hero as classical music played loudly on the stereo piped in from XM. the unibomber said nothing and i said nothing and neither of us turned the music down at 5:47PM on the north side of target- as the hero sped into the blinding sun towards the, i'm assuming, awaiting cuntface. i do so hope they make knee pad badges because driving into the sun looks dangerous.

the clouds came and then... they left

dear it was going to rain diary,

whether it rains or it doesn't, the weather always does change whether you want it to or not. it was a miss for the mist for us, it was, we didn't get shit this time as far as precipitation, but as far as perspiration, i fucking stink like a drunken funk, or a skunk, because i apparently forgot to smear antiperspirant under my left armpit. duh. it is time to wash my golden locks attached to my head again anyway. sometimes when i lay awake during the night and stare straight up at the ceiling above my head- i think about things and remember voices of people who are no longer here who are dead. it doesn't creep me out and sometimes i even laugh when i remember funny things that were said. i just wish there was some way i could get as comfortable as i was sleeping with my mom in her bed. time finds me now- a sweaty cow and off to take my bath. going to see timmy tonight- the unibomber's childhood friend.

more suited for the goat

dear feeling of sorrow diary,

i've been feeling a tiny bit bad about the way i was so mean to the goat. part of me wants to apologize, yet the bigger part of me says, "leave it alone you retarded whore." so i've decided to leave it alone because i really don't use that abusive language towards myself that often and mean it. plus, i know the goat got what he deserved this time. true enough, i was harsh, but sometimes you just have to be that way. it doesn't matter how anyone construes it either, you cant harass someone by leaving them alone. it doesn't work like that. it sure would be nice if it did. but it doesn't. not in this instance anyway.

itchy zebras in the air

dear scratching my leg in bed diary,

so every morning when i get up and let the dogs out- when i open the backdoor- here's the deal. THERE IS ALWAYS A CLAN OF HUNGRY FUCKING MOSQUITOES WAITING TO CHARGE ME THE SECOND I OPEN THE DOOR. it's like they know about what time ima be there EVERYDAY and they hang around and wait for the first sweet blood they can find.... MINE. i've always had an issue with mosquitoes and their taste for me. as a child- i could not go outside at dusk. i am so careful too, i really try and keep an eye on exposed skin when i have the door open and yet every morning one or two will get me. that's why i am up today, as a matter of fact, because i got attacked and when i came back to bed i couldn't stop diggin. i'll paint the swelled up bites, just like i did when i was a kid, with clear fingernail polish- and it helps for 19 seconds- then it itches again. and when did the mosquitoes start looking like flying zebras anyway? i do NOT remember stripes. ima start wrapping myself in a net before going to the door.

that's what whores do (i guess)

dear i had to stop that diary,

cleaning out my drawer was fun last night. finding all the things i've lost and accused others of stealing always has the potential to knock me down a few notches anyway- at least for a few minutes- which it did. i found everything i wasn't looking for and really nothing that i was, yet at the same time- i found it all. i know where all my good tweezers are now, all my fingernail tools, my dental piks, my facial tools, my mascara, my diamond earrings, my lids to my glass bottles, all THREE of my barrettes (omg at once even) and i even found a receipt to a shirt purchased in vegas on july 29, 2009 at the harley davidson dealer. i had a flashback too when i found it. we had just eaten the BEST mexican food ever- it was so frickin hot outside and i made the unibomber go in and buy a shirt and the boys and i sat out in the parking lot because we didn't want to go in. i hate motorcycles and i was too full. i believe i called the hero while the unibomber was inside picking out his shirt. i believe he was working at PPG industries answering the phone. i believe we talked until the unibomber got his right leg into the car and then i believe we hung up. but i believe he called back later.

numb knees

dear water drip diary,

did i ever tell you about the mouth that sounded like a water drip? i hope this ain't a challenge because these directions suck. this is not a jump jet- it's a junk jet. my knees are asleep from sitting on them and i'd be a fool for not waking them with the most direct of ways, but here i sit, on my knees like an idiot- in no hurry to move. i'll pay for it in about four minutes when i do move and i'm temporarily paralyzed semi-permanently. my toes are already burning. i almost cant take it. if i could do it all over again i'da looked for and found a mouth that sounded more like a snow blower, rather than that stupid water drip AND i woulda sat different from the time i sat down like this from the first place because my legs are gunna fucking fall off. omfg.

everybody wangchung tonight

dear making a candycane diary,

every time the unibomber takes me on the motorcycle- when i get off of the dumb thing it feels like there are 41,000 tiny bugs dragging their penises across my forehead making it itch terribly and i don't like that feeling much and i could go without riding on that bike for the rest of my time here on earth and i wouldn't suffer from missing a thing. not my cup of tea; bugs in the teeth, tangles in my hair, wind in my ears. that and the unwritten rule of waving to other bikers who pass- i don't do it- and i am not going to either- just as soon as i start that'll one will be the fucking hero and his cuntface bride. CONTACT. yup, i ain't wavin at a mother fucker. not even in another town. you never know where that mother fucker has gone and hooked himself up on the sly. i might wave and be courteous on vacation, lol, seven states away.

how 'bout that shit?

dear got somewhere to be diary,

in addition to having nothing to do today, i had nowhere to be either, so i didn't go anywhere- except to the kitchen earlier to get four peaches- which i brought back to bed and ate after i peeled. tough times call for rough measures. it is quiet up in the house tonight and things are moving slowly. i cant believe it's the end of august already. i'm so ready for the trip. the circus people next door are moving this week. i sure wont miss them. now i don't even need to go on a fucking trip.

shocker

dear unexpected diary,

things creep up on you and then can 'wow' a whore unexpectedly at the last 19 seconds. 'shocker' diary. i like the sounds of that. let's just name this post SHOCKER. iffin i had hail damage on the backs of my legs i would be sad, but i don't so that ain't something i hafta worry so much about. i do have some red spotting on my chest, but i'm pretty sure that is the skin damage and a direct result from the one dark tan i had in the summer of 1992. i really have a hard time when i stick things like (wrapped) straws or pencils behind my ears. i will look for these items until i give up and go get new ones. eventually i will teach myself to quit putting shit up there behind my ears, because obviously that is a killer hiding spot even i don't think to look. i haven't been up yet today, but i am ready to get up- i think. i guess ima try it and see how it works out. i can always get right back in bed if things get too difficult.

good Night john-boY

dear mary-ellen diary,

so with today being john boy's birthday and all, i thought pancakes would be good for when i finally do feel like eating something. i ain't hungry yet. i always wonder why i have to remember every body's birthday for. i remember when people die too. i dunno why, i just do. i quit going to funerals though. i found a better way. you call the funeral home and you have them save a fucking little service card with the dead person's name and shit on it- and pick it up later when all the crybabies ain't there. see, death to me is different. i was raised different. i guess since my dad was BORN in the cemetery and grew up playing in the one where his parents and brother and aunts and uncles are, i have a different perspective than most. we often took fried chicken and had sunday picnics in the cemetery with my resting grandparents. i read in the newspaper the other day how the cemetery is a place, "children shouldn't play and dogs shouldn't run," but i adamantly disagree. bringing love and life to the dead can set all spirits free. and if i wouldn't have taken my own children there- they might only have known their precious grandmother and great grandmother through me.

snooze fest for some

dear my problem diary,

so i didn't sleep worth two shits last night, or this morning, or however you want to specify the time range and ima blame it all on becky. that makes two nights in a row she has played havoc with my sleeping time. when the grump was dying, i made her sleep in her crib. before the grump was dying, he wasn't allowed to sleep in the bed, only becky was. now the grump doesn't get kicked out of the bed anymore and well, it's become a challenge letting becky and the grump and the unibomber all in the bed at once. if i had my choice of bed mates, i'd choose the grump at night and becky and the grump for naps and the unibomber as needed. nobody slept in the big boy bed. imagine that. maybe i ought to.

my dalight savings timeshare bed

dear right on schedule diary,

i am now on my way to sleep in my bed where i always sleep because i am fucking tired with heavy eyelids that hardly want to be open anymore. the big light above my fat head is on- which means someone will have to get up and turn the bitch off because it ain't gunna flicker off by itself. i don't have to pee, but what do you bet it will be me who gets up and i will make a super big production of the whole deal. when i wake up i will go back to sleep because i wont be ready to get up and i'll be so glad to have the whole day to sleep quietly. goodnight judy laptop and rudolph remote control. if i had peter the pellet gun i would consider the big light my new target. damn ima have to get up to go back down. thanks for reminding me to set andy alarm though. i would have fucking forgot.

the deal breaker

dear oh my head diary,

if you have ugly feet, especially ugly toes, the deal is OFF. even if we didn't have a deal- we wont be making one. i got a 'thing' about sexy feet. feet are important to me. i like feet. feet are cool. you can have an arm missing, but please have both feet. i like the taste of toes in the morning. you may just as well turn on a man and beat him over the head if he refuses to share his feet with you and i've had a stingy footed man before and they ain't fun. i wanna be on my man and his feet- don't hold me back. i want to check them suckers out before any "i's" are dotted and before any "t's" are crossed.

going to the underground dental storage clinic

dear what the smell diary,

that space between your lip and your gum is a tender space in your mouth and not the place to store things. it seems like anytime anything gets stuck up there it fuckin hurts pretty bad. every single time i see a person that when they smile you can see a large part of their top gum above their two front teeth- it reminds me of my mother. the hero had that gum deal goin on too, plus he had a fake tooth and my mom did too, so his mouth reminded me of hers for just those two reasons. if the hero was dead he would be just like my mom except he will never be my parent, that, and he is a shitty parent to his own daughter (spooky kitty) and was accused of molesting his step-daughter (kidney). my mom was a great mother and never once molested me, nor was she ever accused of that. so thankfully, for him, those are only the two reasons i found similarities between the hero and my mother.

when you get what you want

dear you don't want what you get diary,

up in the sky there is a bunch of air just floating around waiting for my head to relax up in it. i'd spend all day up there if i could find a way to hang on. there are no 'oh shit' handles in the sky. carry me from my bed in your safe arms but let me hold you on the way. let us go beyond where the imagination tells us us to stop. let's park the car sideways where it says to pull in straight. why don't you go down instead of goin up. when you roll play- pick a character you can more relate to.

your plan always sucks- just put the crib back

dear big boy bed diary,

it wasn't my idea to move the crib out of here, to take it away from the angel babies is cruel- i think- they've been had it now for two years. becky especially loves to sleep in there and the grump, he will sleep anywhere that has a fluffy blanket or a warm body to snuggle next to. changing things is sometimes difficult for me to accept- especially when i didn't see it coming again. i didn't think they were ready for a big boy bed yet- and becky- she's a girl. sometimes it feels like when someone wants to change something- to me it's because they aren't happy- like they want something more or different. that is what hurts me because sometimes i think i am happy and then things change really fast without my knowledge. damn.

ooooh that smell

dear oh by the way aunt candy diary,

the grump had his bath last night. hook, line, and stinker. i can tell he is back to his normal everyday self now because i cant love on him anymore without his mouth running the entire time in protest. i also have to begin loving on him from a sound sleep- it just gets me further. he smells so damn good this morning it's all i can do to keep my nose out of his special corners and he really hates that shit. he is so clean today he looks three shades lighter than usual. the grump hates to get in the shower, that much is true, but once i get him in there and wet, and then break out the shampoo and start rubbin all over his sexy body- he turns to putty in my hands. he loves it. he loves the warm water. i dunno what his big hang-up is about getting IN the shower is, but i wish he would get over it. you just do WHATEVER you need to do AUNT CANDY. we'll be waitin.

long stroke

dear unibomber tv diary,

the unibomber watches some stupid ass shit on the tv. i am not kidding. where was i at when they were casting all their retarded roles? if i wasn't fit to play the role, i could have at least wrote a better script- more interesting- talk about piss fucking poor. some of it is so bad- i put a pillow over my head and pretend i am asleep and before i know it- i am asleep. that's a little trick i learned when i was a kid. i wished it worked during sex while pretending to cum, it did once, but that was like sixteen years ago and if i remember- i was pregnant. i put the pillow right over my head and fell right asleep after i pretended to cum. it was so nice. sometimes i wonder if the unibomber watches the movies he watches for the men in the movies because they're always the same dudes in the films he turns on. i can tell too, when he wants to get friendly after a gunfight or big cattle raid. fuck that buddy you ain't riding me like a horse. i mean, i don't mind doin it on all fours, but i always end up with my ass in the air and that shit hurts. i'm just always thankful that faithful pillow smashes between the headboard and my head and i always kinda laugh to myself because this is the kind of fucking a whore only dreams about. thank goodness you don't need a hero for everything.

main steam stop valve

dear row boat diary,

a man was killed on that ship a long time ago, i found out, and if there hadn't been a knock in the engine hull there wouldn't have been a vibration. the system you got on that ship is what killed him. the crew is designed to run the ship just like the machinery that runs the ship. i know who killed the little man and i ain't sayin. look over here when you're talking to me- if you don't mind. don't say nothing about what i told you though, i think that engine has a ghost in it. we ain't all  made of brass like you. i kept books for mr. shoe once.

splish slash he might snap in the bath

dear goals like in soccer diary,

so my new goal this week is to do fifty one posts and build up one more posting per week until i am all the way back up to where i was before the grump almost died and shit. i am having a hard time just jumping right back in so acclimating myself by one per week seems to be the slickest method. yawning is on the menu this morning, i cant seem to quit. one after the other they seem to just come- rapid fire. i have yet to give the grump his evening serving of meatroll, and he has tried to remind me eight times but i keep ignoring him. if he was an infant- he'da been totally squalling by now and surly the police would have come and removed him from my custody. i don't feel bad yet because i've been purposely holding off so i can lure him to the shower when he is weak and malnourished and exhausted, which should be any minute because he is sleeping peacefully next to me and his tummy tum-tum is squishy and easily pressed in. he's hungry. ima give him a bath and reward him with a big warm meatroll dinner.