They are rebuilding the Granville el stop. A piece of their equipment caught on fire.
Hey, don't kick that, it's on fire!
I have been living too carefully, lately. I'm 21..I should be dying every weekend, right?
Anyone have advice on how to squander my youth?
Read this:
http://remoteviewing11.blogspot.com/
And this:
Tidepool
pervert's balcony
moon in Gemini
one star
a wish
a shell
slick
like a vaginal
lip
inside each
stone I step
on sinks
in sand
There is so much
action here
Fall sand is
hard and easy
running leaps
at
water's tongue
an icy rock
so smooth
and silver
like the curly
waves
You cannot
have my
ankles
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Thanksgiving. Ok.
My grandma, in an effort to persuade me to get married and pregnant, told me all about my father's birth. (Shriek!)
She asked me, "Why did you dye your hair red?"
"Uhh, Grandma...it's not red..."
Then hung out with the Jessy and Manslave and wee Boab, the shiteing little hound.
Drank tequila in the car and went to IHOP with Jessy and Kevin Cafiretruck and Dan.
Threw some sugar packets, hit on some girls, and got stared at by all the loser boys there.
"Dude, I hear pink haired girls give good head. Huh huh."
Oh yeah, and I'm dying of tuberculosis, still.
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Happy tofurkey day!
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Writing a steeplechase: bad
Pop and bounce: good
Best pink hair ever (besides mine):
http://members.tripod.com/~anxietyny/jeezusjan.html
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Wait!!!!
Stop everything!!!
I forgot to say that Stefanie is awesome!!!
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Yesterday:I fell down the stairs.
I do that a lot. But this time, somebody was actually behind me to break my fall.
Hope his neck is okay.
Today:
First snow. HORRAYYYYY!!!!!
The flakes too thin to make snowballs. =(
What will I throw at the crackheads?!?
Well, there's always eggs...
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It can't be right to get this sick each year.
It is, undoubtedly shortening my lifespan.
What does that matter, though. We are all condemned...
But why is it
my lungs clog with green stuff each fall?
I don't even smoke cigarettes.
It is absurd! The universe is a cold and indifferent place.
Ahh! Listen to me!
I've been reading too much of that damn Camus!
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nothing, really..still sick
|
Home in the suburbs. Hours of laundry. Eating what stale food I can forrage. Freaked out at the pictures in the hall of the ugly kid that used to be me. Will walk to the patch of trees that used to be the woods the ugly kid would play in.
Bud the cat is here beside me. That bathrobe nobody wears still hangs across from the toilet. My sisters still yell that I turn on the burners too high when I cook.
Think I'll make some of my dad's icky coffee. Something to keep me awake. I am sure that if I fell asleep here, I'd have nightmares.
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The offending spike of metal is out of my lip!!!
I'm FREEEEE!
This is like getting my braces off and taking a shit combined!
Swollen, though. Oh well.
I kinda look cute with a fat lip.
|
When there is a stick of metal fused in your face...
nothing else can piss you off nearly as much!
|
This Week:
-From now on I will cream my panties whenever I see Felix the cat.
-When falling flat on your back, be sure to hold your coffee upright.
-There is NO SUCH THING as creative nonfiction, dammit! There is no such thing as nonfiction, period. Not even journalism can be "true". Every story that is written, whether based on "actual" events, researched or in the memory of the writer are still filtered through the subjective perceptions of the writer, and can therefore...
shut up, Al.
-I should have worn socks with these shoes.
-I probably have to quit school. Who was I kidding?
|
Impromptu drinking party on Monday night.
Ugghhhhh! A tummyache!
I have to learn 7 chapters now for a midterm in my History of Everything Boring that has Ever Happened class.
|
I'm like one of those grocery-store roses that smell like lettuce.
|
Today:
Beavers Weave Stolen Cash Into Dam
Got to watch out for those tricky, thieving beavers..
Yesterday:
-Corralled the dirty laundry into baskets (Yee haw!)
-Took down the tent in my bedroom
-Went grocery shopping
-Actually washed those dishes that crowded my bathtub and therby prevented my bathing
Very proud of self.
I should smell a lot better. And be less stressed.
Now all I need to do is vaccuum and wash the laundry and I am a clean human being.
In all ways...I am actually single.
No boyfriends or girlfriends or fuckbuddies.
Which, I won't lie and say is refreshing.
Celibacy is thouroughly boring.
And not fully compensated for by even whisky and writing.
Tonight:
I will read portions of Happy Hour at a creative non-fiction open mic
If you know where and when, be there.
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623
while we are spinning
creation and pain the old
janitor remains
|
What is a hipster?
I was accused of being one.
Don't you need a "scene" to be one?
Shit, the only "scenes" I have are in "take-a-place."
lol
|
I can excell at just about anything I try.
So long as it is interesting.
Failure is never an accident for me...
In fact, it is an indulgence.
Carefully calculated entropy.
|
vague
saw the hexagon grid last night
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~~~~~~Weekend of pain~~~~~~~~
=)
*Lip ring reopened
*Mushroom tattoo on hip touched up
*New big and beautiful scorpion tattoo on right bicep
These should curb my endorphin cravings for a while.
Since due to a bad desicion of mine, my receptors would otherwise be recieving less.
=*(
|
It's a very cold day on Wabash.
|
http://www.acityinsight.net/pictures/photo/legs.jpg
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!
|
Gasp.
10:00 on a Tuesday: the sirens are tested and I, for a moment am not aware that it is a test.
Which reminds me of how lethally important today is.
And what tiny say I have in the outcome.
I drink at midnight.
|
At a Halloween party, at 4:30am on Saturday, very drunk, with 2 guys (one in drag) fighting over me, I, wearing only Saran wrap, foil and a leather bra developed a sick, strange love for
Adam Ant (who was born on November 3, like me).
The lyrics of this song are evidence why:
Beat my Guest
Well tie me up and hit me with a stick
Beat me beat me
Yeah, use a truncheon or a household brick
Beat me beat me
There's so much happiness behind these tears
Beat me beat me
I pray you'll beat me for ten thousand years
Beat me beat me
I'm black and blue baby
I love you
Be your dog
For just one flog
You don't hear me plead
For you to make me bleed
Beat me beat me
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh
Well use a truncheon or a cricket bat
Beat me beat me
A good beatings really where its at
Beat me beat me
hahaha
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I have started the great American modern psycho novel.
Read it here:
http://happyhournovel.blogspot.com
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