fuck*

nothing so eloquently displays an emotion as good as the word fuck
it's good for sex, it's good for getting mad, it's just plain good to say. and i say it a lot.

i fucking* burned my head. twice. yesterday and today. i got this new curling iron (it fucking* rocks) it's huge and it fancies up my hair into these gigantic fucking* curls. i look amazing.
too bad i am an awkward jack ass who some how can not manage to do my hair with out hurting myself. no hand eye coordination? who fucking* knows.
so here i am, awesome hair and a burned scalp.

that tops this last week of awesome things that i will never forget.

such as:

February 19, 2008 - Tuesday
ass faucet,
i have been pissing out my ass since saturday.
as amusing as this sounds it is in fact not fun at all. actually i am scared that i am going to manage to pop a roid with all my ass pissery.
i don't know what i have but i know it is awful and everyone in my house has it. miles shit up his back yesterday. i have been doing load after load of shitty diapers. soaking them in the terlet and then washing them on mind blisteringly hot water a few times to hopefuly knock out any bacteria...maybe i'll run them through the auto clave?

To top all of this off i also have been on my period for about 3 weeks. last thursday while sitting in class i felt my crotch burp. not a fart, not a queef. it wasn't even actually any air. it was a god damned crimson tide of pure fucking evil relieveing it's self from my nethers.
as it sit in my small class of 9 and our instructor ushers us into break time i politely request the chance to take an early lunch. why you ask? because i have bled out of my crotch onto my pants and am now swimming in my own effluence. totally destroyed my fucking pants and my cute pair of undies.
i wrap my hoodie around my waist and drive home feeling a slow leek like a faulty oil gasket in a honda civic or some kind of chevy malibu

i go home take off my bloody pants and draws and happen to notice the worlds largest bloog clot hangin out from my junk, it looks like a cow just gave birth.
the fucker is about the size of a pack of smokes and i actually had to grab it to get it out.
i am so fucking gross you can't even begin to comprehend it with 100% of you faculties.
after said giant clot has been exited from my holyest of holys i encounted a steady flow of bright red fluid. it is comming out so steadily that i can feel it. a lot.
i have nothing to quell this beastly flow. no feminine product on this earth could. i don't even think those fucking diapers that they give you in the hospital could do the trick.
that is uless you're a genious like me and decide to put on a pair of boxer briefs grab a size 5 diaper from your kids stash of disposeable diapers and wedge it securely yet gently between your legs. IT DOES THE FUCKING TRICK. i can still feel a constant movement of life force from my crotch, but i am less inclined to care due tot he fact that i am sporting something that can take a whole 7-11 bladder buster and still have room for some doo doo. i wore a fucking diaper.

thats not my lowest moment in life but it's up there with that time i took a crap at the craft store and there was no tp so i had to use a reciept that i found in my purse.

these past few weeks can go fuck themselfs straight to hell

now i have a fucking cold.

dear soulless machiene

today in blog land i decided to get a little voulentary time off of work so that i could go do something that did not consist of some jerk-off screaming in my ear.
i went and had indian food. sweet dreamy indian food. i'm in fat chick heaven.
or i would be if i hadn't been taking appetite suppressants and can't seem to manage to eat portions bigger than a slice of wonder bread.
god i fucking hate being fat.

so in the long run i guess it's worth it. the whole not eating like a fucking pig, getting controll of my diet and chloric intake. who fuckin knows maybe i'll take up jogging or some horse shit like that. probably not, but a girl can dream.

maybe if i drop enough lbs i can get some fuckin plastic surgery. (FUCK YEAH)

dear god forsaken blog,

oh how i have abandoned my blog. i have left it in the attic of the internet and allowed it to collect dusty cob webs.
i have forsaken the blogger for the greener grasses of live journal and myspace.
what a whore i really am.

fortunately for you blog, no one actually reads this. so you wouldn't know what to miss anyway.

*le sigh*

it's been a few months. some time to let my hormones simmer and cool off from having kids. i'm still fatter than i would like to be and have way more on my plate than any one person should. how i manage is far beyond what i can comprehend with 100% of my brain.

the kids are getting along nicely. they are huge and sometimes it is painfully bitter sweet to see them grow from babies to little kids. i miss teeny tiny babies that are completely content being strapped to your side in a carrier all day.

now they run around, play and little miss beats up on her brother. too stinkin cute.

the mr. is still working awful hours and it is really taking it out of him he rarely has more than about 30 min a day to spend with us before he goes off to load his 16 tons. he provides so much for our family at the expanse of never being able to see us. i am so grateful that i have such a wonderful husband who is willing to sacrifice so much so that we can have a nice place to live and nice things.
he's so dreamy*

ok. then.

i am done talking
buh bye

beauty

I'm a people watcher. i can't help it. people amaze me. i break it down to a science. i watch how people interact in day to day life and sometimes wonder how they made it so far.
one of my favorite things to do is sit myself down in a crowded Starbucks and just listen to how people interact. sometimes in these kids of settings you can hear the filthy underbelly of how some people really are.

on one such trip i listened to an older lady (about 60ish years old) go on for about an hour about how bad Starbucks was. apparently they made her coffee incorrectly and instead of asking for a new one she just sat and bitched about how this was some sort of micro-analogy of society as a whole. how Starbucks does not want to make you the coffee you want they make the coffee that they think you should be drinking. her husband just sat there the whole time listening to her bitch. i sat and listened to her bitch and was a little disgusted that all she wanted to do was bitch and not do anything about it.

hey bitch, here's a piece of life lesson for you. get it your fucking self!
i mean seriously. why would you go to a Starbucks and bitch about the coffee for a fucking hour and not do anything to correct the issue?

seriously.

on another people watching adventure i watched as two girls(15ish) spend many a minute in the mirror of a bus station bathroom priming their hair and make up to perfection.

it made me think about being that age. i remember so desperately wanting to be my own person. i was so different from other girls. i didn't dress the same. my body wasn't the same and i saw life differently. but i so wanted to be beautiful. wanted to be seen as accepted for all that i was but outstanding for what i was as well.
with out criticism. i think i hardened myself by being so different.
i would kill myself to please people. to be accepted for who i was. it was so important to me i could drown in a sea of poor self worth. very few people took the time to actually know me, the real me. just like a tortoise the shell was enough to keep people away.
i starved myself to be attractive. i got beat up to be accepted. anything.

i see now. how important it is to be beautiful. not just to yourself but for other people to see you as beautiful and seek out your individual beauty. very few people will recognize it because it comes out very seldom. those who can see it are very special people. it takes a special person to really see someones true beauty.

dear anonymous reader.

oh my shit i have 600-something views to my blog. i wonder if anyone actually reads my shit regularly. amazing to think that someone may have this fucker book marked on their favorites and reads my inane banter.
if you do, thanks. if not, i am not offended.

jessie

i miss jessie



i lost most of my friends when i had kids. most of them disowned me or just don't have time for me. because i don't really drink and go fuckin nuts every night like i used to, but jessie always has time for me. shit, he makes time for me.


( circa 2003ish lots of cocaine and cheap drinks at the boiler room)