giant germ.

i've been pretty much dead again. the flu and two ear infections (my third ear is, as of yet, unaffected). ill tell ya, man, healthwise, between sinusitis, hyperglycemia, colds, teeth-pulling, bronchitis, and now this nonsense (to say nothing of father and joeys' surgeries and whatnot) you can take 2009 and give it back to the indians. i mean, i dont WANT to use this thing just to bitch, but, i mean, it is what it is. wtfuck that's supposed to mean.

finished "when you are engulfed in flames" by sedaris yesterday....underwhelmed. Always, have his books made me laugh out loud, literally, even upon repeat readings. Not this one, not even once. Less about Hugh, more about his familly would be great. It also read as a bit self-referential and self-congratulatory, i thought. Usually sedaris utilises a more self-loathing approach, i thought, so that was weird. obvs, it had strong points, just few and far between. AH WELL SUCH IS LIFE.

i was thinking the other day about how whenever we were little kids our dad would tell us that only white trash uses satellite dishes. Whenever we were driving somewhere, though, lets face it, it was most likely up to where my mothers from, an area some (i.e., dad) refer to as hillbilly country, he would invariably point out each and every satellite dish and note the alleged white-trashness and likely neer-do-well tendencies of said dishs' owners. joey, of course, was very delayed in his speech...he did not begin to talk until he was four or five, if memory serves. some of his very first words? passing a satellite dish, pointing, and EMPHATICALLY yelling "why rash why rash!". Yes, "white trash, white trash", to the beginning speaker. daddy done brought us up right.

pete the p.o'd postal worker.

"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."



hemingway said that. my dad's sick....his heart. headed up to phoenixville now. i don't pray, but....

the giving tree.

my toof necklace!! the picture does not EVEN do it justice shits awesome and makes me feel like a mofuckin voodoo priestess despite my conspicuous lack of melanin. i wrapped wire around the tooth, which is some sick ass deep sea under water weird twisty type toof, put it on a loop, then put a chain on the bitch. still need a toof hookup def need to make some rattly ass charm bracelet with like forty odd teeth hanging off of it. dad has some deer skulls out in the garage ill just take my pliers out one day i spose.

also: scarf thingie that i made. i figured out how to not just make triangles, heather! yayyyy!! anyways shitty picture obvs but its tan and white patterned yarn with a blue/brown/white striped yarn border around the top edge and the down the diagonal side, at which point it is stitched together. so it should keep my neck warm but also if i have another bout of hatchetface-ism then it will also function in that capacity.

speaking of hatchetface......wtfuck whoever votes for the oscars!?! no love for mr. rourke? shits fucked, man, i mean the guy just lost his chihuahua!! RIP loki.

and i am guilty of the same so i know this is some truth telling im about to do but if you say you hate 'hey there delilah' then you are a lying liar. lying liar pants on fire!

everybody poops

this shit? fuckin blows. mouth hurts like a motherbitch and i was so very excited about my little vicodins but ive puked up every one ive taken so far. blood is constantly dripping down my throat and im not allowed to spit and if mr. chuck palahniuk is to be believed....what is it.......a pint of blood before one gets sick? something like that. never really popped much of a boner over fight club the novel and certainly CERTAINLY pop no boner over fight club the movie flim. but yeah anyways this shit is fuckin clown shoes, man. mouf is still numbish so im guessing the worst is still yet to come! oh joy.

went to pull out my cell phone in the surgeons office to check me messages THANKS YALL HOLLA and pulled out my weed pipe instead. approximately the same size and shape mm hmm but very different uses indeed. oopsie poopsie! as if dad doesnt know my lifestyle but nevertheless.

goodnight, moon.

what makes me cry probz more than anything is reading about/looking at pictures from world war two. curious. thats a bunker from normandy. it looks like star wars, though.

my dad meant to call me a douchenozz today i believe cos me and the littlest bandy it about incessantly, but instead referred to me as, while i can only guess at the spelling, as a "douchemah". its almost like the time he was driving me to a show and asked if i was planning on joining in the "nosh pit".

where the sidewalk ends.

my punk band will be called:

taylor moyer is rude.

or

like dolls eyes.

what to do what to do.

if i could blog like anyone it would probz be kanye west. if i could have anyones hair it would probz also be kanye wests though only its current mullet form obvs. or neal cassady if he had a blog. if he were even alive in the time of blogs. hypothetically then i would blog like neal cassady were that the case.

whenever i smoke in the dark i become irrationally fearful that a sniper, seeing the lit end and mistaking me for someone else, will kill me. my dad did get drive-byed with a paintbull gun once. and i have been stabbed. this is a nation wide concern.

number the stars.

Had to write an essay on the book that has impacted us most. Early Childhood Literature was the class. Wrote aforementioned essay, bangin ass essay (though as usual far over the draconian word count limits presented), on American Psycho. The novel obvs not the movie flim. Submitted to the professors' dropbox, copy and pasted to the discussion board..........................until I realized an American Psycho analysis may not be the most apropos choice for a class more geared towards the Berenstain Bears and Where the Wild Things Are. Though Maurice Sendak was on some other shit too, with that shit (he did write Where the Wild Things Are, didnt he?)

No one likes me in any of my classes, which is weird. I understand people not liking and ostracizing me in person, because of my incessant kiss-assery to the teacher and general obnoxiousness. But these are all online, and yet no one responds to any of my discussion board posts! No one! Not one! At all! All semester thus far. But then again one of the hos in my english class tried to say goddamn Twilight was the book that has influenced them most so maybe this shits on some positive. WHAT DO I KNOW. I DONT KNOW.

I was really fuckin happy though about my John Updike essay, it had a 700 word limit............and I ended up through some jest of god WITH EXACTLY THAT. Amazing!

Been so bored I've been going out of my mind. Goofy thoughts abound and, like my father, I have resorted to taking my boredom out by annoying those nearest and dearest, so to speak, even though i have a general disdain of such ridiculous little phrases. Taylor can attest to this. The annoyingness, not my abhorrence of rhyming phrases. And, you know, I gotta say...the old man is onto something. I always knew I loved awkward situations but I never knew how awkward I can make them. Heavy lies the crown, sort of thing.

COCOA BEAN MUGATU is so goddamn persistent with attempting to laze across my laptop keyboard I swear to god if this cat does not get anointed and exorcised soon (or exercised she could use that too) I am just gonna flip.