Thursday, November 30, 2006

who said you could open your mother fuckin' eyes???? HUH???

this is an email i sent to my sister the other day:


How was your thanksgiving?? Yeah, I know. Mine was boring, too. Not really. I went to mom and dads house and ate cajun turkey and a lot of other yummibles. Actually, the turkey I could've done without, but he died so that I could eat. So, I ate and was thankful.

I spent the night with (older sister) that night and got to spend some time with (thing 1 and thing 2), something I hardly ever do. I found out that (thing 1) seems to have a very hard time with her basic abcs, so we spent all morning long reading books. I'd stop at least once a page and make her sound out at least one or two words. Recognizing each individual letter, what sound it makes, then cramming it all together. She seemed pretty pleased with herself after 2 or 3 books. She got very excited if it was the same word from a previous page that she'd already recognized. (thing 2)'s favorite was the Oscar the grouch golden book. You know where he gets mad because you're reading his book and he wants you to go away so he tries to convince you to close your eyes so you cant see anything. Then on the next page he says "hey! Who told you you could open your eyes?!?!?" (thing 2) would squeal and giggle (AGAIN!! AGAIN!! AGAIN!!)every time we got to the next page and snatch the pages back. I probably read that part of the book at least 10 to 15 times. It was very cool.

I called (apartment 1) apartments the other day. As it turns out, you have to put down one of your kidneys and your appendix to even get started. Which I still might, because I don’t really "need two kidneys" and lord knows I don’t eat enough raw meat to justify owning an appendix at my age. But we'll see. A guy at work gave me two numbers of some places on his street and I called on them today. One was very adamant about not having any pets, because they'd just put down new carpet and had no fence and were old and crotchety. The OTHER place I called is a duplex. Sorta. It is a duplex but it's set up more like an efficiency in that it is very small. Its got a separate dining room and kitchen area, and then the living/bedroom area is in the back. They're wanting 375 for it, compared to 340 for (apartment 1), BUT this place is only one road over as opposed to (apartment 1) which is downtown Shreveport and I work in Bossier. AND I asked the lady about my cat and she said "OH, we just LOVE cats. I don’t think my husband would charge a deposit for that. I mean, what can a cat really tear up??" little does she know. But that's cool. I can work with that. They're gonna be out of town next week, so I'm gonna go look at it the week after that. Sooo, I'm really hoping this'll work out. Its in a quiet neighborhood and the lady seemed Very friendly. So, we'll see, I guess.

Didn’t mean to be so long winded. I'm sure your eyes are probably bleeding by now from having to read all this, so I'll jump offa here and let you get back to your regularly scheduled life. Talk to you later…


and that pretty much sums up my life recently...i think.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

white trash devil child

good morning. i woke up this morning to the sound of the alarm. i got up, tinkled, and let the dog out to do the same. i snuck back to bed for a possible two to three more hours of catnapping. suddenly, there's a knock at the door. well, now who could that be?? i say who is it, no answer...who is it, theres no answer....who..................sorry, i got lost in a weird al song i'm sure none of you have ever heard, so let me come back. so, i go over and i open the door and just as i suspected; there's some big fat hermaphrodite with a flock of seagulls haircut and only one nostril. ah, man i hate it when i'm right. yeah, i just really, really have that song stuck in my head today. anywho, so i got up to see who was at the door because i hadnt heard a car, but heard a black man talking. i'm no racist...or not like i used to be....but things like that just dont happen where i live. i opened the door anyway and there was a nice elderly jehovah's witness standing at the door who i swear could be morgan freeman's twin brother. i felt kinda awkward as he looked me up and down with my wild, matted, slept on hair. my black mascara stained eyes, my tribal design "wicked" tank with no bra, and all the way down to my black toenails. we exchanged uncomfortable pleasantries as both the dogs got into the house and he went on to explain the pamphlet he was giving me about who john was really talking about when he was prophesying about the anti-christ. turns out its not bill clinton afterall. i really have heard that many times. so, i promised him i'd read it and he left in the direction of my parents house. i'm genuinely interested to hear that story later. i just hope he didnt get shot. so, i've started reading said pamphlet and so far i'm not impressed. now granted, its been a long time since i've been to church or done any serious reading in the field, but said pamphlet suggests that the anti-christ isnt a real person, but more an idea. if people do not believe in christ that they themselves are the embodiment of the anti-christ. which im having a bit of a hard time with. i'd go into the reasons why i say that, but i'm no longer educated enough to state my case, so i'll just leave you with i got to meet morgan freeman today...

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

How Desperate is Desperate??

i finally decided this past weekend that no affordable house is going to fall in my lap right now. and considering how well i manage money, it would probably be easier and cheaper all the way around to just move into an apartment. so, i've been searching online for the past day or two. trying to see what i could find. i remember going to one particular place prolly a year or two ago with a friend of mine. i remember the efficiencies being 310 and the one bedrooms being around 350-375 at most and a 300 pet deposit. so, i got the number and called today to see if rates were possibly still the same. not quite. the efficiencies start at 340. for a one bedroom, it starts at 430. and the pet deposit is 500 mother-friggin dollars. is it even possible for my 6 pound cat to inflict 500 worth of damage on ANYTHING??

so, i've been asking myself for the past couple hours. how desperate is desperate?? i can afford 340 a month. but for 3 tiny rooms?? jeeze. how the hell do normal people live in the city?? i want to move out. badly. i go between the ex's house of frustration and the sisters house of...well, frustration. hmm. thought that was gonna come out a little more clever. guess i overestimate myself sometimes. i want to be out and independent, but damn. maybe buying a house wouldnt be so far fetched. so, i guess i'm gonna look around a little more, but if i cant find anything better...ya know.

ass rapers.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

The Eight Irrisistible Principles of Fun

1. stop hiding who you really are

2. start being intensly selfish

3. stop following the rules

4. start scaring yourself

5. stop taking it all so damn seriously

6. start getting rid of the crap

7. stop being busy

8. start something

each of these has a little behind the scenes inspiration what not if you follow the link to the site. nifty, i think.

and holy shit. so, this is what people who are too smart sit around and do in their spare time. hmm. i never knew. sooooooooooooooooo funny.

and i think that's enough stumblin' for this afternoon.

Friday, November 17, 2006



just thought this was worth reading. go home and pet your dog.

Dogs Like Pussy, Too

"Dats" are going to be what i call them. supposedly a cat mated with a neighbors dog in mehiko or guadalahabajara, or someplace like that, which resulted in puppy looking kittens. which to me just look like dogs. cute dogs, but simple pups just the same.

puppykats, on the other hand, and dog-like cats. resembling puppies in personality rather than appearance. very, very cute. expensive, but cute.

and other than that, i'm having a pretty damn boring day. somebody email me and cheer me up...

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through our house
was blasting the "St. Vitus Dance" by Bauhaus;

Torn fishnets were draped on my forearms with care,
And two cans of Aquanet applied to my hair;
My thoughts were of graveyards, and horror and dread,
Black visions of pain and despair in my head;

And Bianca, whose face was as pale as the moon,
Had thrown up her arm for this evening's swoon,
When out by the gravestones there came such a clatter,
I sprang from the coffin to find out the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a ghost,
Expecting to find a dark devilish host.
The moon on the breast of the uncaring snow
Threw ominous shadows on objects below,

When, before my tormented eyes did traverse,
But a gorgeous black Crane & Breed carved-panel hearse,
With a gaunt, shrouded driver, who filled me with fear,
And eight skeletal creatures that might have been deer.

More rapid than vultures his coursers they came,
And his deep Andrew Eldritch voice called them by name;
Now, Murphy! Now, Morgoth! Now, Torment and Woe!
On, Dreadful! On, Lovecraft! Mephisto and Poe!

To the top of the gravestones where fog wisps its breath!
With a weight on my soul I consign you to death!
As dead leaves that before hellish hurricanes fly,
When they flutter like giant bats' wings to the sky,

So up to the crypt-top the coursers they leapt,
While dearest Bianca, like death, still but slept.
And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof
The clicking and scratching of each bone-white hoof.

As I drew in my arm, and was whirling around,
Down the ebony chimney he came without sound.
He was clad all in black, and he looked oh-so-goth,
A billowy ensemble of crushed velvet cloth;

His boots were knee-high, quite buckled and zipped,
And the Spandex and fishnets 'round his legs were ripped.
His eyes glowed with bluish fire, deathly and cold,
A black eye-liner'd face neither youthful nor old.

A broad lipless mouth drawn with torment and hurt,
And his sorrowful face was as white as my shirt.
A smoldering cigarette tight in his grasp,
Its smoke curling eerily 'round his cloak clasp;

His gaunt frame was topped with long ebon hair,
And a sharp scent of brimstone and cloves choked the air.
His arms were outspread in the shape of a cross,
And I quailed when I saw him, feeling sorrow and loss;

He narrowed his eyes with a twist of his head,
And I felt the full weight of his angst and dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
Left some Dead Can Dance CD's; before I could ask,

A single tear fell across his aquiline nose,
And then, like an angel, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his hearse, to his team he then hissed,
And away they all drifted like early dawn's mist.
But I heard him intone, ere he vanished from sight,
"Gothic Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Drunk Blobbing

nessecity is the mother of invention:

you just go ahead and expect a few more misspellings. quite frankly, i cant really feel my fingertips. (nor my tongue) i discovered a new favorite mixed drink tonight. no, no. not orange juice and vodka. the old screwdriver staple. but TANG!! tang and everclear. goood lord have mercy. weeeeeeeeeeeeee.

i think that's all that needs be said.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

one surprise too many

i thought hard on all the bad ways i could update my site today. all the bad things i wanted to say. but i realize none of it now is really worth saying. who's mind will i change?? or even enlighten for that matter?? no one. mine is the only one that matters and i consider myself enlightened enough for all of you. yeah, all two and a half of you. so, i'll just say, um, i do hope the best for you. yeah, i say that knowing you're not going to read it. but it's fun to pretend sometimes. i dont really know you, but i hope that someday you'll find someone who you'll allow to. i shouldnt be a beggar, and i wont be anymore. some of us are just slow learners. very, very slow learners. and i think that adequately sums up every single thing i need to say.

other than that, i think my new help that i finally got at work is about to be fired. i say fired. laid off?? business has been unusually slow lately, even for this time of year. so, another one bites the dust then, i suppose. she's really the best help i've had in a long time. she's a hard worker, she has no problem with comprehension, no problem well, with anything really. a generally pleasant person to work with. and i'm sorry to see her leave if she must. sad sad.

my sister ran over her own dog the other day fracturing a shoulder blade, three ribs, and a pelvis in a pear tree. ouch. not much more needs to be said. poor puppy.

Monday, November 06, 2006

this song makes me wanna pick up smoking

We suffer everyday, what is it for
These crimes of illusion, are fooling us all
And now I am weary and I feel like I do

Its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart

The size of our fight, its just a dream
Weve crushed everything I can see, in this morning selfishly
How weve failed and I feel like I do

Its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart

Now that weve chosen to take all we can
This shade of autumn, a stale bitter end
Years of frustration lay down side by side

And its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart

Its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart