team yacht club

dear thinking you're something diary,

let me flip this around. when you play on the same team as the other players on your team, one would imagine that everyone is kinda playing towards the same goal. let me spread this out, since i really am a retarded cunt and everything. it might have been raining on the day i was born, i don't even know, i never checked the weather reports from that day like someone who knew me prolly would have figured ida done by now, but truly i haven't. i wasn't even born in illinois, so it'll do no good to look here. what disturbs me most about being a team player is knowing who your teammates really are. most of the time you can depend on the blood, but outside of the blood there is muddy water. if you think i am writing about you, bitch in fact i am, and i keep score. let it be known that i do not trust you. you should not trust you. a thumb and a hammer are two different things and while you may have all the candy on the playground now, your bag will soon be empty.

the tooth and uterus funeral

dear the reason diary,

i just now realized i never posted in my diary on this date so ima do what i have only done once before and go back in time and fix what i can fix because i can fix this. i woke up brave on this day, assuming ready to face what i had to do is to be considered brave, i in fact did what i had to do. when i set my mind to something it usually is pretty easy, but breaking off that final piece of whatever it is i always hold on to, well that's the part that always leaves me in the state of dragging ass. i let another piece of my body go- i threw it in the garbage today. i am ashamed. tooth number 18, the most beautiful tooth that had no cavities or fillings had an infection under the root and could not be saved. first my uterus and now my tooth. there isn't much left of me now.

standing invitation

dear when i die diary,

i may not go to Heaven, but at least crack open my grave plot i bought and put me in there. because if i spent that money and someone decides they ain't gonna put me there, well, that will piss me the fuck off. i always figured i'd prolly have a funeral, but i don't really want one. i've been to a bunch of funerals in my life, a bunch, and the best one i ever went to was my aunt mary's funeral and it wasn't even in a church or funeral home. it was an OPEN casket funeral- right IN the cemetery. i think i was even smoking a joint. aunt mary died on her birthday- how bad ass is that shit? her husband (uncle glenn) died on her birthday too. i suppose this posting could serve as notice about how i want my final affairs to be packaged and shipped. however, i'd prefer to have my suitcase closed.

hunting season

dear getting the complaints filed diary,

having no recollection of previous events has helped me retain the knowledge thus far. we cant forget the possible brain damage sustained in the skull fracture. i am not a lesbian. the gun that misfires wont kill a bear, but if you're not where a bear might be- you wont need a gun to fire. fuck a bear. i never did like it when you got in my head. and now i am sad because i have shot you dead.

it always does

dear you think that now diary,

but it will change again.

'polly want a cracker?'

dear fortunate diary,

unfortunately for some, there are places we seem to go less often that other places. what i've come to realize, is i've done alot of unconventional thinking lately that has caused me to become more and more uncertain about things i've been so sure about my entire fucking life. like, for instance- where i want to grow old. i had that all figured out and then, including now, i am not so sure anymore. i'm only glad i don't have to wear a uniform with my name embroidered on it, telling the world who i am. for i am not that proud, my pride gets in the way of the smaller things- like begging.

knee high thigh socks

dear that ain't no male diary,

i need to tell you something, but while not every insult requires a response- i'll let it go. i hate it that i know what everyone still wont believe, but maybe that's a good thing- we'll see. it is good to be the secret keeper. it gives me some extra power- like i need anymore of that shit. as of this moment i have all of the pick-up i need to keep me moving right along down any type road i may come across. even the dirt roads are no match for my travels. i don't like to keep people waiting, but i don't work at the post office. 

the annual bonus

dear end of the slime diary,

the bottom of my refrigerator was disgusting. you know, the under the drawers part. there was a dead fly and juice and mold. yikes. it was a sad situation, but it is all clean now. maria called me tonight, i'd almost forgotten what her voice sounded like, she is coming tomorrow to be my housekeeper for the day once again. finally, freedom from the filth. there are so many great benefits to living in a clean house. finding things is easier, loosing shit is harder, and everyone has more space to move around. i need my space, even when my head is up in the clouds.

the pecking order

dear times ain't changed diary,

i hate to talk about people who don't deserve it, but when my kid (prince harry) was little- he was a stawker. he's just like his mom. he would wait until i was asleep and then come and crawl in bed with me JUST ABOUT every night. then i would roll over and there his little skinny body would be..... sometimes i would just scoot him closer and cuddle him to me and other times i'd drag him by his head back to his bed. i've recently come to realize, things haven't really changed that much in my bed. except it isn't my kid that sneaks in when i'm sound asleep anymore, it's my autistic dog. the dog who wont allow petting or affection, the grump, wants to cuddle when i'm asleep. this is very easily handled however, because the moment you wake up and reach out to touch him to celebrate his closeness- it startles him and jolts him back to reality, as if somehow you've violated his space. i can deal with this behavior.

the TV made me cry

dear things diary,

i am to report everything here and sadly, very sadly, there is nothing. so i will make something up to fill the void. that way there will be no disappointed stawkers at the end of the day. i have been thinking again. sometimes it hurts me when i go through this process- but not this time. i am not a rapid thinker when it comes to thinking about things that require answers and in the instance in which i am recording here, of course, no answer will be necessary, therefore, the speed in which i allow myself to think may be sped up a bit- which is causing me mild but genuine pain- but not hurting me yet. i did cry yesterday for a few minutes- but not because i was thinking.

sound proof sky vents

dear sounds around the block diary,

i knew i should have worn shorts yesterday after i shaved my legs and now i get woke up by thunder. i did feel like spring all day. i like the wind because it can bring change. it cracks me up how becky concerns herself with the business of other dogs blocks away. she's in the living room now all worked up at a dog barking at least two blocks over. i think that must be my grandma in her. i cant help but wonder how many other dogs he has all stewed up out there- i can hear quite a few little snarks in between his. it could be the thunder setting that barker off. i know it caused me to wake up, but i didn't start barking.

closing up shop

dear sixty four days diary,

making the announcement today holds significant meaning for me. what i did and what i was then, and who i am and what i do now- well those things are much different, yet i am who i have always been and who i will always remain to be. once true to myself, i am here to play my part. what is inspirational to me are the conclusions i am left with after using the methods of deductive reasoning i am so dutifully self trained at. some things don't ever and wont ever change and i'm prolly one of those things. stocking up on the extra gifts now, and the rest will be left to your imagination. i think you'll be ok. we all will.

community services

dear secret garden diary,

i keep reminding myself how close we are to garbage day when my dumpster cans will be empty again and ready for the next big load. i am loving this whole recycling deal. the grump buried the smallest piece of cardboard in the yard today and strutted around with a dirty ass nose- i had to dig it out of his secret garden just to see what was so damned important. it killed me to find that tiny piece of cardboard- so i called him a, 'crackhead.' he didn't like that very much and growled at me and tore up the slipper i'd given him earlier. i got him two more of the black kong balls he loves yesterday in st. louis and he likes to lay on them like eggs. i've never seen anything like it. he keeps the old red kong ball by his mouth and the two new black ones under his body as if they were to hatch. i don't spend time in the secret garden and i think everyone knows that. i'd rather go to the zoo.