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| It is 12:56am, the sixth of May. The year is 2004. Today at the mall I purchased new sunglasses (third pair in two weeks) and a new ring. Tomorrow I drive my brother to the airport and say goodbye for two months. Boo-frickidy-hoo. Yes times. My coffee is not sitting well and I feel the bile rising slowly. Boo puking. Pfft. Saw some new pics I will be posting hopefully this weekend. Yes. I don't know what to say, but I can't sleep and my eyeballs don't wanna watch TV right now. Mistress, would you buy me some berries? I most certainly will. Today I had a mishap with my washing machine. I washed one item... My mother would kill me for being so wasteful, but I didn't have any other whites to wash today. So anyways, when the washer beeped to inform me of the completion of the cycle, I open the front-load door to find my sweater a soaking wet mess. I *hate* when that happens...HaHa Apparently it didn't ring out well enough, so I had to ring it out in the sink. Waste of time... Becuase I really do have better things to do...*looks around* Yes, I do. So I toss that bad boy into the dryer, and after an hour and one half it beeps, and when I go to check, and it's still like totally wet. Like, totally. So I set the timer for another hour and when I check it yet again, the mother fucker is still like 36.7% wet! But I had to go, so I had to wear an almost half-wet sweatshirt, how uncomfortable. I love my new flip flops. Fun times. Thinking of changing my cheveux... again... Mind my spelling, I only took French for 9 years... I think there's a shadow that lives in the corner of my room. I see it often as I prepare myself for an outing or an evening of sitting in my home. My heart is heavy. The hookah that resides beside this computer desk is staring at me with longing desire. I just wanna light it up and smoke the sweet stuff baby. Mmmm. It taunts me. I tried to make a grilled cheese *shudder* the other day, but I didn't want to cover it, and so it wouldn't cook properly. I needed to see it, to love it and to cherish it. It needed to see me too. For as long as I can remember, I have this recurring dream that I am a stick figure being chased by a giant rock, like that in Indian Jones. Damn eh, even as a kid I thought about huge balls. Fucking pervert. In the sixth grade, Alex and I gathered some miscellaneous random art supplies (feathers, pipe cleaners and styrofoam balls) and proceeded to create a crafty cock. Funny how I thought it might look at the tender age of 11. I was soon to be pleasantly surprised that feathers are not (typically) invovled in a man's genital region. One time when I was little, my friend and I took a box of Fruity Pebbles, ground them into the carpet with our toes, and had a crumb fight. The mother was definately not pleased about that one. Have you ever tried to vacuum out the diminutive morsels of a child's breakfast? |
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