an evil that should never exist

dear aka a giant waste of time journal diary,

look what you've done now. you call yourself a 'brain surgeon?' you always did have a sixth sense about what was going on inside my pea brain. you may as well put your scalpel away, your operating room privileges have been revoked. you are a distracted person professionally and personally and i assume it's prolly still that way, things don't change overnight. i haven't had a shower in almost a year and tonight i am clammy and over ripe. i have no intentions of changing this either, so i know what it is like to be stuck in a rut. it doesn't mean i am a bad person because my armpits are musty, they were musty yesterday too, it just means i am protected this evening from being otherwise cut open by the likes of someone like you. just because you failed as someone who tried to save my life, doesn't mean you had to use a jacked up knife. but you did and i bled out, but somehow i lived. what a changed whore i am today.

that's for shore (and fifteen lesson years later)

dear no turn around diary,

it always cracks me up when you see these signs in people's driveways, "NOT A TURN AROUND," like you're gonna use up their concrete or blacktop JUST BY PULLING IN. it's like, "OK DUDE- WE KNOW WHERE AN ASSHOLE LIVES, oh and, I WONT STOP THERE IF I AM DYING," for fuck's sake. people are fucking weird about their yards and shit, me, not so much. i figure grass will grow back. i'm waiting for the martians to land and leave a crop circle. i love to mow in circles and cool patterns. mowing missionary is boring. i like to mix it up. i used to mow for my drunk friend kelly all the time (for free) because i loved the 'art' of mowing. i love to mow fast, but only if the mower has a sharp wide deck and can handle it. if it leaves a shitty cut because the grass is tall or thick or the blades are dull- you gotta slow down, but this was never an issue because drunk kelly was married to awesome andy who kept that bitch running like a well oiled whore. yes drunk kelly was lucky to've latched on to awesome andy for the time she did and she was damn lucky to've sucked off me for the fifteen years she sucked off me. if i were ever to come across a sign that read, "NO TURN AROUND," i believe i would buy that sign and go put it in drunk kelly's driveway, even though it is gravel.

wanna smoke some hashtags?

dear finally to the point of understanding diary,

here we are almost a year later and a #brick hit me over the head tonight. it didn't #hurt very much, but it made my eyes come open. i cant believe it is my favorite time of year already. i love #fallclothes. i never did find my favorite pair of summer shorts this year so i'm thinkin i musta packed them away in my winter shit by mistake. i want to #hashtag everything now when i get excited. i am such a #nerd. ima go to the #pumpkinpatch earlier than usual this year, prolly next week. i just love love #love going there. it makes me so happy. i am so glad the experience never got #ruined. next year i'll have aubree to drag down there and take lots of pictures i promise i wont #overpost of- unless she is really #cute and then i will. i hope they let #criminalgrandmas in with children because i'll still be a #criminal when i'll take her to the #pumpkinpatch because i'll be sure and go before october 1st. i'll set my #alarm now.

packing a box

dear eighteen wheeler diary,

if it takes eighteen wheels to transport you across country, you either weigh entirely too much or you have too much shit. i'd need a big truck to move all of my shit if i was going to take all my shit very far, but i could prolly get by with a truck that had like nine wheels on it instead of eighteen. i think it is important to leave things behind when you start a new life. i would bring my stove, but i would leave my bathtub. i keep tugging at that stupid hair growing out of my chin tonight. it feels like it's about three inches long, but upon searching in the mirror i can barely even find it. it is for this reason i could not leave my tweezers behind, or my 8x handheld mirror. i would be sure to fit those in my nine wheel big truck for the move.

a bright new future

dear custody battle diary,

i called the unibomber's mother a few minutes ago and asked her to come and reclaim her son. i got to thinking earlier, i've had him longer than she ever did. i think it is time he went on back home. she didn't want him. i upped the ante by offering child support and weekend visitation at my house and she still wouldn't commit. fucking i sure do know why. the unibomber is driving me up one side of the wall and down the other today and i cant take it and now he is playing that same stupid little dumb ass tune on his electric guitar again. you know which one i am talking about right, the one if i hear one more time ima snap? NADIA'S THEME. for fuck's sake. he denies trying to mix wham! in with it at times, but i can hear it, i have an ear for careless whisper. even the dogs leave now when he gets the guitar down off the wall. prince william asked me the other day, "mom, how do you live with all that? we be hearin' it over here." being deaf really comes in super handy. i'll find him an apartment complex someday where all the residents are deaf and he can just live there and be king of that high rise castle. that way when he does decide to finally talk, he can shave off his zztop beard so his new neighbors can tell him to shut the fuck up when they read his lips.

potato wedges

dear potato head diary,

ever notice how all cops kinda look the same right through the forehead and chin? it's the attitude too, i dunno where that comes from. i think it's like the 'body builder syndrome,'all body builders have little dicks. or maybe they do it on purpose as to throw the public off, so we cant actually determine which hero was the one who took a stab at our peaceful day. i'm not a cop hater, but nobody in a uniform has ever protected me yet. maybe it isn't even the uniform i am so hung up on, it could be the badge. my brother had so many badges from cub scouts and boy scouts and eagle scouts, but he certainly didn't turn into a hero. he didn't have the right kind of forehead or chin. but, sometimes his attitude, however, is right on target.

the first kool-aid kit

dear house of cards diary,

violence caught on tape. i wish i had a tape of what happened to me all those times, although the acts weren't that violent, they were pitiful. if i didn't have a family, including children, an elderly father, and an ex husband with a long beautiful cock, ida fallen off the face of the earth- but i stayed around. the air isn't thick enough for me to slip in to and take all the people i love with me. i don't want to learn a new language. i don't need to uncover a new hidden talent and i don't have the patience to learn. just don't stop talking to me. i have been to princess charm school and i kinda flunked out. i was a big event. it wasn't one of my most proudest moments. "yummy, yummy, yummy, i got love in my tummy," and i don't think it matters if i chew with my mouth wide open. sometimes you'll have to explain what the picture means because i'm the one who cant figure things out. if you think i know something, i prolly do, but i wouldn't know what it was even if my life depended on it. if you want me to remember something important, be sure to leave a card at my house with clear detailed directions.

you had your way (i got mine)

dear take me back to texas diary,

i liked texas- when you went there, mostly because my phone worked. my final prayer was answered tonight when the battle finally stopped and the smoke cleared and seven spanish angels came three nights after the full moon and took my pants off and made my legs quit itching. now it is cool beneath my feather blanket as i smoke my last nasty cigarette. the grump snores loudly as my fingers make noise in the otherwise silent room. i enjoy the sound of nothing. pecking by the light of the blue on the flat screen makes me happy, as i pretend it is electric water. if you want to stay longer- throw your coat in the corner and iffin you don't like crackers- i'll make cornbread. but don't worry about it being a sin, you have to be sorry. who's sorry now? the only thing different (lmao) the only thing new (lmao) i got rid of my disease (lmao) and they still have you- oh and cuntface has you too (LMAO)

squirt some sticky stuff (on my eggs)

dear pancake syrup and jelly diary,

hot sauce is a general condiment folks use to spice up their food. i hate the shit. it is sour and not appealing to my mouth. inside of my mouth it takes something much more than spice and sour rotten ick to make me slobber and get all yummified about food. like scrambled eggs- MY FAVORITE- i love scrambled eggs and please don't put cheese in them. thank you. i like catsup, i really do, IN BAKED BEANS AND ATOP MEATLOAF, not on my eggs, but i do love the flavor of sugar and tomatoes. what i enjoy on my eggs is pancake syrup or a big hunk of jelly that has accidentally fallen off a hot piece of buttered toast. mmm..... that will set the taste of a scrambled egg OFF THE CHART. i love strawberry jelly and raspberry jelly and peach jam and i even put eight little packets of sugar in a dish of salsa and oh my goodness. i don't know why my mouth just would rather like sweeter things than other things that are hot and offensive. i'm glad i don't have to smell that shit anymore when i eat my breakfast. SHOUT OUT CUNFACE! i know you're loving that.

two heads are NOT better

dear two is too many diary,

today is an odd date and i am reminded how it could be better to only have one of something because having a pair of things can throw a whore off. for an example of this, i have two sets of keys, but i've lost one set, so i got the other set, and ima use them. now that i have my other set, and i have no idea where the first set is- it's hard telling when i will ever see them again. but if i only had one set of keys, i'd be made to sit here and look around until i found the bitches. two makes me lazy- if i cant get it from one- i'll get it from the other and i hate bein like that. ima reduce the pairs of things that i have and make myself live with just one of everything so i can better keep track of what i've got and what my shit is doing WHILE I AIN'T LOOKING AT IT. because i cant watch everything all at once. damn. so when something isn't present for row call, i'll know which boat not to look in- the extra one- CUZ I WONT HAVE ANY EXTRA BOATS TO CHECK. 

lost velcro balls and a misplaced infant

dear balls in my pants diary,

moving effortlessly would be difficult with two balls in my pants. i don't care who you are, having those in your drawers would definitely not be what i would want to have to work around, so i feel sorry for those that do. there are many other things i would rather deal with than that. so forget about that idea. forgetting seems to be easy sometimes, even in my dreams. last night i forgot the grump at a place where i had been and had to go back and get him in a frantic panic and i've actually done that before (with a different dog though) and that is the worst feeling EVER. i'll betcha it feels just like leaving your kid behind, but i dunno because (thankfully) i never did that. i did 'misplace' my child a few times around the house though, but usually when he was sleeping in that damn car carrier. i always took him wherever i went (paranoid at first) and then i'd do something else and walk off and leave him. if a guy could have detachable balls it would be more comfortable prolly, but then there'd always be that chance he could forget where he left them and balls cant start crying or barking to come back and get them. i'm thinking that's why balls don't detach easily.

CoverWhore

dear my habit diary,

i was using about two hundred dollars of eyeliner and mascara a month. my habit was out of control. if i didn't have my eyeliner on i would wake up in the morning sick and puking. i was a complete slave to my eyeliner addiction. i remember times when i would look into the mirror with eyeliner pencils sticking out of my eye and i would try to make myself put on eyeshadow and couldn't do it. i would say, "look at yourself, look at what you've done, doesn't this matter to you?" and i just felt this overwhelming sense of apathy. i stopped working on my street corner and constantly worried about animals being tested with my cosmetic products. i was arrested after my five year miniature dicked stalker sex offender "hero" became offended by me and my inability to maintain my status as a working free whore and began demanding payment for new eyeliner. now that i wear my hair up all the time, i no longer feel the need to wear eyeliner and mascara OR work the street corner by my house. with high level government officials condoning behaviors of sexually driven motivated heroes, it's easy to understand why the cosmetic industry has so many addicted whores and i happen to know that business is still thriving. lol SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE! willfire be a busy busy boy!

something i can stick to

dear one way only diary,

the only way to get a peek down my shirt is to pay the toll. i have to draw the line somewhere. i suggest protective eye wear, and or headgear for extra protection. what is next? face to face. next think you know... you gotta go... it's a long way to the rock if you don't know how to roll. when i rolled, i used a machine and when i find myself rolling now, i still do. i find the end result is more uniform and easier to handle. i wish we could put turmoil from our daily life into a rolling machine and uniformly roll up the big battles and smoke those when the lights are on and you're not home. sometimes i can hear a bell ringing off in the distance in my head and often wonder if it might be a phone waiting for me to answer. i never pick it up because i never want to answer and i never want to find out what i may have (or may not have) missed. don't bother leaving a voicemail because i wont listen to that either.

taking notice and doing my fucking part

dear so do and some don't diary,

dumping trash is a crime. storing trash behind your house, or in your house- is also a crime. using your neighbor's trash can, or the dumpster at mcdonalds, or even the trash can at your friend's house is illegal and is considered a crime. pulling you car straight into a sideways parking spot is a crime. looking into some one's mailbox is a crime- just looking into it. if you touch the mail inside of the mailbox, that's a bigger crime yet- a federal fucking offense. thank goodness touching some one's car on accident isn't a crime because i did that the other day- again. i got all the way to the part where you put the key in the door before i realized- i was one car over from mine. dammit. i got the right color car. i've gotten in a few times to cars that weren't mine, so i lock the doors now. it scares me when i go to put the key in the ignition and the fucker wont start. 

a moment of community

dear pricking my finger diary,

i was up for about 4 whole hours today. the rain kept me in my bed and quite comfortable and resting like a sweet little baby whore and that was exactly what i needed to catch up on what i've missed out on over the last couple of weeks. plans are something i always look forward to, but rarely ever make them. if you make plans, please don't tell me about them, because i don't wanna be all heartbroken when YOU cant follow through with your plans. i don't have problems following through with my plans for two reasons- i don't make plans i cant keep and i don't make plans.

from putrid to vile

dear staying in practice diary,

waking up in a home that does not smell like a zoo is quite the accomplishment and a step up in life. i believe i could get used to living like this. i would never feel like a monkey again if i didn't smell that horrible barn smell that floated around throughout my house like caged rhinoceros bedding upon first morning onset of consciousness. i vow to never let it be like that again- for as long as i live. i need to get the garbage out to the dumpster before it starts to stink next- i put the dead rat in there yesterday and i cant forget about it. after the living room carpet gets vacuumed and all the furniture gets put back where it goes, ima dig my little toes deep in the carpet and roll around with becky and show the snake what it's like to hang around with people who don't BITE at you.

the creatures in our beds

dear hiccups and sneezing diary,

i woke up this morning with a severe case of the hiccups. that was around 8:19AM and the unibomber came unglued. his woolly mammoth chicken chested ass was so fucking rude about my having the hiccups- i almost wish i still had them now. how could one person treat another person so wrong while they are suffering themselves? i don't understand that, but i know someone who would all too well, CUNTFACE. it would be hard to grow used to the mentality of someone who lives like that on a day to day basis, yet- sometimes i think i have. the unibomber does sleep with his legs spread and that has to mean something.

two turtle doves and guns and twelve roses

dear on the first day of Christmas diary,

oh shit, it is almost Christmas. it will be snowing soon and all that jazz. here i been just getting used to it being summer. i am glad the hot crap is done though. i'll tell you what. i been had enough of that crap. i am really really REALLY looking forward to this Christmas and honestly- it's prolly the first one in like fifteen years. my baby girl will be here. she will be brand new. she will be so beautiful and perfect and she will smell so good. i am going to put her in the stocking and hang her on the fireplace for a quick picture while nobody is looking- but only if it's gonna be safe and if she fits in her stocking cuz if she doesn't then i will have to put her in mine because nine babies will fit comfortably in my stocking if they had a decent air supply. i would love to hear some air supply or chicago right now. that would make my leg feel better prolly.

dead animals in my basket

dear thinking before speaking diary,

usually when i think before i speak i sound like an idiot, more so than if i just pop off and say what ever is just high speed trailing through my head at the given moment. i don't actually rehearse before i do anything either because that takes the spontaneity out of it and absolutely ruins it for me. in fact, that's how i'll sell you, is on our first sail together- i am no salesman. i was successful at selling tadpoles to mrs. swanson up the street in the yellow house- when i was a child, and i got in a whole bunch of trouble for being such an entrepreneur, and i still think my business could have had the market for demand if  i'd had the opportunity to get the word out of my supply. my mother was a mean mother- always squishing my important dreams, or so i thought. i still don't understand the need for such a harsh punishment for bringing the dead squirrel home though, i know i could have brought it back to life with the spell book aunt donna gave me. spells don't have anything to do with the devil, they didn't back they and they don't now.

i need to speak to someone about those teeth

dear a day of teeth diary,

the grump chewed up a toy, the snake chewed up my leg and becky chewed after the wheel on the carpet cleaner the whole time it ran. my scalp is sweaty and wet right now and i am sitting in front of the fan and it's making me shiver from the inside out. i fucking love clean carpet though, but it wears me out to clean it anymore. now that i am completely finished and i can relax and concentrate on how bad my leg hurts, i think i might slip into a coma and die. there is a huge painful knot under the blackened skin and the grump rammed his paw down into the most tender spot- so tomorrow- i'm looking for my snake bite to be a color of black i prolly have never seen before. the color now breeches beyond the rim of the teeth marks and is slowly creeping up my leg. what an exciting afternoon it was. just think though, if i lived on the beach- it prolly woulda been a shark not a snake.

split a nail and punch your mouth

dear bite my ass diary,

cleaning the carpet while my leg was bleeding wasn't nearly as fun as what i had planned for the dead four pound five and a half ounce rat my snake lost her appetite for- after she tried to put her mouth around my whole leg and i proceeded to thump her against the side of the bathroom shower at prolly forty one miles per hour on this- my dead mother's sixty eighth birthday. it feels like a friday. but i'm on my way now- to something. i killed a huge spider after i about got my leg tore off- a spider like i've never seen here in the grand state of illinois. it came from another planet. it is dead now and we are all safer tonight because of this. i am now a hero, just not that  kind of hero. i do not have an infectious disease, for instance, of which i would wish to transmit to others. my house did, however, until earlier today, smell like a zoo, and there is the fact i've been twice bitten now by a six foot python which i call a PET and pay ridiculous amounts of money to feed and sometimes the stupid bitch would rather just eat me and kill her dinner and leave it lay.

fuck me on my leg

chocolate chip mint ice cream

dear complexion diary,

well all of a sudden i feel like somebody out there in blogland might be thinking i am some retarded whore or something and fuck i don't want to put off that kind of notion. i ain't dumb or nothin. i feel like i pretty fucking smart. about things. in general. people don't run up to me and call me stupid usually- dumb ass once in a while- but not often- usually when i'm just like parkin and stuff like that- maybe at a red light or things. but i ain't like dumb dumb. it's not easy being the smart whore, i'll tell you that right now.

50 days+ 2 people = ONE STUPID NUMBER

dear at home again now and excited diary,

my leftover blood worked out famously as i had just enough for my little anniversary voodoo in the cemetery this evening just after sundown. the moon was perfect. the temperature was perfect. even my fresh new mosquito bite on my ass quit itching long enough to allow my efforts to transpire without so much as a hitch. i know everything went according to plan because all the signs were there and my eye twitched. i felt my fingernails grow and now i may paint them again. it will be an easy fifty days until the witches new year when all is revealed and i know for certain, but i feel in my heart i know now. the black candle with the yellow flame- the blood chanted in your names- feel me.

closer to the bone

dear trolling for quarters diary,

no polish again on my fingernails tonight, for a reason. i got a huge mosquito bite on my ass. itchy itchy itchy. that's what i get for keeping my ass out during a cat nap. i am sure the mosquito had all it wanted of my sweet blood. i'm surprised that fucker didn't call upon everyone it knew to come suck upon me like an, 'all you can eat buffet.'  i still think it is wrong for man or insect to feast upon humans, but i could eat a big piece of meat about now. for days i've been craving bloody meat now- a large thick yummy chewy slice on the bone. meat next to the bone is so tender and good. sometimes when i write about shit and walk away and come back i really cant believe the shit i wrote about. but i go ahead and post it anyway- at the time it was written- because i sure ain't claimin the shit now that i've eaten and it makes no sense.

a friend for the hero

dear zip and a zap diary,

that brought everything back. i keep seeing this ugly fucker i dated when i was a kid. he is so nasty. he has a huge head and an ego the size of texas and a dick not much bigger than the one pictured a few posts down from this one (that of mr. loveman's,) but bigger still- i am sure. even though the penis will shrink a bit with time- no matter how much his shrinks- it'll never match the hero's penis- not even on his worst day, but i think until i met the hero he held the title- which remained unbroken all these years until 2005- and there were many chances for it to be broken- let me assure you- it was a fair fight. seeing that fucker today though made me think- what did i ever like about him in the first place? well, he had a cool job- he was a dj at wjmu at millikin and i drove his cool car. but when he dropped out of millikin and his car broke down- i don't remember what happened to him after that. now he sells cars and plays golf so i dunno- guess he's doin okay- still wearin that same old hairstyle he thought worked for him back in the day. i'm surprised that guy didn't become a hero or maybe he did in his own little way- i always wondered if he too wasn't going to end up at least part way gay.

bleeding out to stay together

dear clotting up diary,

sometimes when i cut myself i just squeeze the area around it and make it bleed more to see how much blood i can get out of it before it just stops and wont bleed anymore. it never takes very long because i never get cut very bad, but once in a while i'll make a mess on my shirt and there will be enough to collect for one of my spells later. it is supposed to be fresh blood when you do the spells but i cant go around cutting myself at will, so i'm one that saves blood  and uses it later. it's the best i can do. i've found it keeps in the fridge for a while- so i dunno- that's just how i been keeping it. now my chin hairs and fingernails- you know i keep them all different because they ain't gotta be refrigerated. so YAY on that. i feel like i need to be doing something to prepare for this evening's ritual, but i have everything i need. even the moon is ready. i want everyone to listen to the sound of the september sky tonight. look to the northern sky for one star so bright.

for it is under the mighty star of thirteen my spell-

i shall cast demons upon those whom i don't wish so well.

over the yellow hot flame my red blood shall pass-

on my flesh finger to make it last-

until every single truth shall be known-

to each of you a continuous live of misery forgo

lives filled disdain and mistrust and hatred together

every morning and until dusk and every weather-

you are to suffer till the end of time-

faithfully to each other.



The Heimlich Maneuver® (invented by the henry)

dear you cant always forget what you want diary,

choking is only one way to swallow, and even that is no guarantee what you put in your mouth will make it down to your belly. it works the same way with forgetting too- you may forget something but as soon as you do, well, it may come flying back UNEXPECTEDLY and slap you silly at a time when you least expect it, kinda like choking. if a person could die from remembering things, surely i'd be dead- i've spent the majority of my adult life remembering everything i've done and said and didn't do correctly. i don't know if given the chance- how much i would redo, but there are a few things prolly. but if those few things would change other things, well, then i'd just have to choke and leave everything the exact same. SHOUT OUT HENRY HEIMLICH! 

what is ONE more lover (just another slice of the pension pie?) TALLY UP

dear don't know about you diary,

if my husband cheated on me in the nights before we got married, that would be a deal breaker. yeah buddy. if my husband cheated on me within a WEEK after we were married, i would CALL IT OFF. yup. if my husband arranged to meet another woman on our anniversary, skippy, i would be hot as a bitch. if my husband had a tiny little weenie and thought he was "God's gift to women," i would tell my husband because it would be my duty as his wife. after all, i didn't marry my husband for his sexual capabilities, clearly- not this husband anyway. i married this husband for other reasons i have yet to figure out in divorce court.

R.S.V.P. ASAP (please fuck me behind the garage)

dear looking for something diary,

yup, that was a question. are you looking for something? can i help you? whatcha need? marriage is a union. it's a sacred bond. what's wrong pussy? not what you were looking for? OH FUCKING WHAIL! IT'S A GREAT DAY FOR AN ANNIVERSARY AIN'T IT. slice your wrist if it ain't. it ain't quite an emergency- but it was almost a disaster. the good Lord must call you all the time as much as y'all cut your hair, (shout out #samcro) but whatever- it's a cold day- pretty much everyday- for you isn't it. history is dead and it'll stay that way but i cant imagine daddy's home ever being daddy's home and i cant imagine a vacation with his drone. lucky thirteen... i'm not being mean. later today i'll post the back yard wedding picture on reeder drive. it's sooooo south shores romantick.

let's go to school (it's fun)

dear what is important diary,

saying, "i am sorry," can be difficult for some. that is prolly why they don't do it very much. then you have those people who say it so much it doesn't mean a butt fucking thing when they say, "i'm sorry." sometimes there are those who just have to have it brought right up smack to their face before they will admit what everybody else already knows, but this is me not running my mouth again. for gawds sake. i did toe surgery on my nail the other night and it still feels terribly crowded down there. i don't get that. i think my toe is shrinking again OR my toenail is somehow widening because pain in my toe is uncommon and something i am not planning on getting used to. my hair seems fried and my bangs are uneven and i have one eyebrow that is retarded. but my nails have a great manicure. whatever i am doing it is pretty obvious that it is working because otherwise i wouldn't know what everyone doesn't want to admit because i don't have to smack anything cuz there ain't no way ima fuck up my fingernails running my mouth or trying to stop anyone else from running theirs. i'm sorry.

the approach to the bogey (made me tired)

dear space ranger diary,

what's inside matters. it really does. anything goes when you're up in the air. backless black satin is a great design and material for a pajama dress. people have different ideas about what they want to sleep in. i feel good in whatever i get to catch my slumber in- even if it's nothing at all. so many think witnessing an event in person is better than seeing the same event on live television or on dvr. i would whole heartedly agree if the event was that of afghanistan people sleeping on straw mats, so that you could fast forward to the parts when someone yells out or kicks, but at a different event- like skiing, where someone could lose their life at any given moment- the tv people wont show the good parts and you have to BE there if you want to see that. i cant watch poker, i have though, but just to see how the dudes carry themselves. golf cracks me the FUCK up- the little crusty balls- the little holes in the stiff grass- the long sticks- the word, "four!" why isn't sleeping a sport? people do some cool ass shit when they are asleep. i can enter REM in under 2.5 minutes and i think that is some kind of record. no shit. betcha i can dream the average whore under the bed in a minute.  

lets have some pups here

dear all i wanna do diary,

hearing my posts being read by a man is strange, to say the least- a mechanical sounding man with no feeling. then we have the unibomber- singing 'since i've been loving you,' to the dog and pissing him off at an astounding rate, so i don't know which is worse- a computer generated narrator or the unibomber serenading our animals with led zeppelin. a happy medium would be to let the animals read my blog on their own and as stupid as my blog is sometimes- i feel they prolly could. becky i am sure- would enjoy my pictures and the grump too prolly- fuck who knows, i think he is gay. i brought a bleeding bitch over here in may of 2009 her name was nina, and the grump wouldn't do anything but oral on her and i physically lined them up and everything. he had his red deal out- so i tried to hook them up. it never did happen. he insisted on oral only. she would lick him and then he would really lick her. she spent the night a few nights here and bled in the basement and they stayed friends. we really hoped they fucked while we were sleeping, but sixty four days later that bitch was still as skinny as she was the day she went home from my house. we always wondered after that if the grump might be gay. she seemed like a nice little willing whore.



nina is on bottom (where i like to be)
i dunno who that is on top lol (no comment)



the perdickamint

dear ceiling fans of tomorrow diary,

well another day in bed. i am certainly comfortable with that. i have the intentions on bathing and making pancakes and little weenie sausages. i have the sudden urge for little weenie sausages and i have no clue as to where that came from- seriously. i've been wanting pancakes and i have bacon  in there and i tend to agree with whoever it was i saw that posted on twitter yesterday, they said, "i do not trust anyone who does not eat bacon."

just another sad day to feel good

dear feeling good today diary,

i know i'm prolly supposed to be all sad and in remembrance mode for our country, but honestly- i do that every time i go to the airport and see people reading the newspapers and drinking their coffees before they board their flights. i think about how normal everything was for them that morning before their planes took off. i went to lowe's ten years ago today and got a faucet for the bathroom sink. i know where i was at. that was an image the cashier and i will forever have and we made a bond as we stood and held each other in a way i hope every american had the the opportunity to be held and comforted. now, ten years later- seeing all the shit we've endured as a country because of what happened, i realize we've gotten much wiser, but we've also gotten much colder too. nobody gives an inch anymore and there is hardly room for laughter. everything is so serious now- it makes it so much harder to be funny.

to Mr. & Mrs. Loveman

dear oh dead what can the matter be diary,

when love dies i wish the world could some how stand up and take notice like they do when a person dies. we should all have a dead fuck registry where people have to register when they are straight up done loving/fucking someone so that the next lover/fucker can easily check to see if this is a true fact of not. i mean with so many lying cheating mother fuckers out trolling around- we need a system like this in place for the honest whores who just want to live a life. and there would have to be a data entry process that would have to be unbiased too, i don't trust any man whore to enter his information accurately. don't get me wrong, AT ALL, we women should have our registry too, but just note- ours wouldn't prolly need to be as closely monitored. especially when it comes to information about me, because i ain't gonna lie about shit. all you have to do is READ MY BLOG and you'll KNOW what i liked and disliked about you and your wife. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. YOU WERE THE WORST EVER.

willfire the second time a little longer
(that's what he says)

a new song to fill my heart

dear ledbetter diary,

closing up shop requires an active reasoning behind the choices we make. i don't understand why some folks decide to go and do the things that they do, but then it ain't my job to. do not read between the lines here- or anywhere else- you'll end up hurtin yourself and frankly i don't want to be responsible for such an unjust and worthy cause. i'd never heard the song ave maria before 2005 so when i hear that little tune it rips my very soul from my heart- separating it from whatever seems to bind it together. a few tears will make their way from my eyes and i will remember what i am supposed to. i was, and to this date remain, THE smartest retarded whore i know. no shedding tears over that. iwlya.