Dear world,

Saturday, June 4th, is my birthday. I’ll be twenty one! And I want to go skydiving for my birthday but it costs money and no one in my family wants to give me the money to go because they’re afraid I’ll die and it will be their fault but I really, really, really wanna go so…. send me money! I figure if I get a tenth of a penny from each person in the world then I’ll have enough to go sky diving for the rest of my life. Now, just contribute a little itty bit and let me jump out of a plane.

Thank you.

Fucking Nature

Ohio’s a beautiful place. Really. While some think of it as a little forest full of a spin off species of hillbilly-rednecks with an inherited dislike for Michigan, it can really be quite nice. We’ve got beautiful rolling hills, thick forests, wild flowers, pastry shops, quaint farms, grand Victorian towns, and hoards of men that help little old ladies across the street, (something I saw just yesterday). We also have a large range of innocent wildlife, like the fucking possum that waddled in front of my car last night at about 2:20am. Or the deer that was prancing around the right lane of route 61 about 2:25am last night. Or the fucking heard of deer that followed him across the street at 2:26am. A few wandering cats and a raccoon later I realized that there must be some kind of kick ass wildlife Memorial Day barbeque going on. Rock on nature but stay off my streets. And… if you’ve gotta be on my road, wear some sexy neon reflectors please.

"Iny weeny teeny weeny shriveled little short dick man"

All at once now!

Do the dance of joy! And sing the words, “ha, ha, ha, ha, my car wasn’t stolen!”

Yesterday I locked my keys in my car. Locked my keys in my pretty new car. Locked my keys in my pretty new car as it was parked on 17th avenue off of High Street, aka: Fraternity Road. The keys were sitting right on the passenger’s seat screaming at every single drunk college kid, “smash the window and steal this pretty car and the shiny CD player and oh, take those roller blades while you’re at it”. My car survived a whole night, a FRIDAY night, on 17th avenue with the keys locked inside in plain sight! Aghh! I am still amazed.

Again!

The dance of JOY!

---

Side note: I've recently become infatuated with a new song. This one's called "Short dick man" by 20 fingers. It's just so random and repetitive that I can't help but enjoy it. I don't recommend it to anyone.

And, as a minor addition: 20 fingers has many other equally nasty songs I'm currently enjoying such as "boom I fucked your boyfriend”, “lick it before your stick it”, and something that’s talking about an “ugly mother-sucker”. I personally like song “choke my chicken”, it has real squawking sounds and a barn dance/redneck rap quality.

FUCK

Tonight I was in a very icky mood. (Still am but also on my way to recovery… read on.) I was quite prepared to cry and scream and rant in text, but probably not actually post, about how I feel ten ways to horrible but then I got home. I walked in all teary and walked right into my brother. I had already cried till I was dry, I was a whole sore throat past the screaming, but still had the rant left in me. I had just started when he told me with a little laugh, “shut up.” And damn, who knew how much that could help? Sometimes I really need someone who loves me to tell me to shut up. Then there was the pretty smell of lilacs, the smell of my backyard in summer, from a big bouquet on the kitchen table. And then my cat, Jack, who was waiting for me on the toilet when I walked into the bathroom to pee. And my nightly ritual of chips and salsa finished off the list of good to end the night.

Recipe for happiness:
1. “Shut up.”
2. Lilacs.
3. Cats on toilets.
4. Chips and salsa.


A new universal truth I have recently learned:

1. If you have a flower lei hanging from your rear view mirror in your car, then you are one nasty fucker. That’s not your natural hair color nor your natural tan. Get your vanity plates away from me and act your age because you’re sure as hell not older than 17. And if, by chance, you are older than 17, then it’s because you’re the 17 year olds mother and you shouldn’t try to look like her because it’s scary and your driving is worse. Also, go the fuck away.

'cause pop rocks... hehehe

Spiteful Loner You are 71% Rational, 42% Extroverted, 57% Brutal, and 42% Arrogant.

You are the Spiteful Loner, the personality type that is most likely to go on a shooting rampage. You are a rational person and tend to hold emotions in very low-esteem; not only that, but you are also rather introverted, meaning you probably bury any emotions you feel deep inside yourself. Combine these traits with your hatred of others and your brutality, and it seems that you would be quite likely to shoot innocent people in a rampage. Not only that, but you are also a very humble person--not a braggart at all--meaning you could possibly have low-self esteem. This is only yet one more incentive to go on a shooting rampage, because you wouldn't care if you died as a result. Granted, you probably haven't gone on a shooting rampage and probably never will, but all the motivations are there. In conclusion, your personality is defective because you are too introverted, brutal, insecure, and rather unemotional. No wonder no one hangs around you, you morbid, cold-hearted freak! To put it less negatively: 1. You are more RATIONAL than intuitive. 2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted. 3. You are more BRUTAL than gentle. 4. You are more HUMBLE than arrogant. Compatibility: Your exact opposite is the Televangelist. Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Capitalist Pig, the Smartass, and the Sociopath. * * If you scored near fifty percent for a certain trait (42%-58%), you could very well go either way. For example, someone with 42% Extroversion is slightly leaning towards being an introvert, but is close enough to being an extrovert to be classified that way as well. Below is a list of the other personality types so that you can determine which other possible categories you may fill if you scored near fifty percent for certain traits. The other personality types: The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 56% on Rationality You scored higher than 43% on Extroversion You scored higher than 70% on Brutality You scored higher than 45% on Arrogance

Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on OkCupid Free Online Dating

Babies everywhere!

Lord, I feel like shit. I’d really like to go on and on about how absol-fucking-utely horrible I feel. I’d love to whine about how I can’t stay awake, how my head feels like it’s filled with some kind of sticky burning substance, how my stomach has been in painful knots for the last 20 hours or so, and how everything else just makes me want to cry (except that would make it all hurt worse), but that’s just kinda depressing and I don’t have the time or strength to type it all…. ‘cause even my fingers hurt.

So, instead I’ll talk a little bit about babies!

Today I met a man at work, (shut up and wait, this will lead onto baby talk) and we’ll call him Joe because I never caught his name. He was a fairly muscular man with long dark hair, big dark eyes, a full beard and a mustache, and had the whole Indiana-Jones-hiking-boots-with-socks look. He was very handsome…and he was also kind of a grandpa. But he looked very pleasing and calm and nice and had a baby in his arms that he offered to let me hold. Anyone that lets me hold a pretty little five-month-old baby girl named Kiylee is all right in my book. He also had the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. So, while I do feel all shitty today, a grinning baby holding Grandpa “Joe” made things seems a little more… un-shitty. Thank you anonymous Grandpa “Joe.”

But now the baby is gone and I’m alone again and feeling like shit. I think I need to treat myself a little bit like a baby and go take a nap. As soon as Vicki gets into work to take over I’m grabbing a pillow and blanket and passing out under the boss’s desk for a few hours.

The internet has been done.

Hello world. I’m sitting here trying to pass the time away in the best way possible—by surfing the net. I’ve hit all my favorite blogs, checked all three e-mail accounts, peeked in on my bank accounts, poked through facebook.com, looked for new updates on favorite sites and now I’m finished. I have nothing left to do. Geoff and I went to Steak and Shake for some late lunch this afternoon. It’s about the first time we’ve been to this place since I got sick and threw up on the street right before we had planned to go back to his place and make out. But we were hungry today so we threw caution to the wind and went. Well now he’s belly up and sick in bed and I’m here… alone… left to my own devices… abandoned with only the internet… the vast lonely internet… and I’ve finished it. I’ve finished the internet. And now I don’t have anything left to do.

204... again!

How very southern, refined and ladylike I feel this afternoon. I’m sitting here all proper with my legs crossed and my very fine skirt on while I delicately munch on a teacake. It’s my first teacake ever. Mr. Man-in-Room-204 had his wife come and visit, and well… she brought me teacakes. They’re very sweet with pretty opaque sugar-lemon glaze. I didn’t think that something that looked like one large crumbly sugar cookie would agree with my taste buds, but it does. I made myself a cup of cinnamon apple tea and I just feel very quaint. If only I had a very small dog right now and a large hat.