Sunday, May 29, 2005
Saturday, May 28, 2005
2 more days
i'm looking at the shit all over my desk and thinking about how on june 29 when i come home from europe i am going to look at all this shit and it's going to look all weird like what is all this does this belong to someone else and it will probably make me cry because i'll be tired and confused. yes i can predict the future. SO if you know me in the real world of reality you should come over on WEDNESDAY JUNE 29 at like 9 pm and distract me from like breaking all my shit or something.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
six milion ways to die so i chose
i was standing on the counter changing a lightbulb and an intense wave of euphoric calm washed over me and my eyes went out of focus and i could feel my heart humming all warm. i was electrocuting myself and it felt fucking amazing. i wonder if i was walking down adams and it was all sunny and beautiful outside and i was listening to music and looking at all the people sweating in their black suits and all the school kids running out of the art institute and climbing on the lions and falling down the steps and someone walking past me just pulled out a gun and shot my heart. i bet it would be fucking incredible. i wonder if he was breathtakingly gorgeous and smiled at me if i'd be like all exhilarated if i wouldn't even see it coming suddenly i would just be on the ground and staring into the sun. it would totally be thrilling and calming at the same time. i wonder what it would be like to drown, if you reach an ephiphany as your lungs fill do you float out of consciousness or do you open your eyes wide before you die. NO. if you jump off a 30 story building how long do you feel while you hit the ground? touch the third rail. |
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
living in the land of the lost
i don't believe i didn't bring my camera to work today.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
the greatest love story of all time
i've been writing this story with this guy for a few years. i wonder how his story goes. i know he has one because sometimes when i'm near him i can hear it. sometimes i can almost read it through what he remembers and what he forgets. i remember everything. sometimes i'll be driving in my car listening to music and i feel like he can see me and i wonder if he's writing the story right then. one day i was at a party sitting in the grass and i heard my name. when you call my name it's like a little prayer. we ran at each other and i jumped on him and knocked him down and we fucked in the middle of the field until we had so much grass in our hair and we couldn't breathe. i think there were people around us but we were blurry eyed and didn't care. i don't want the blue fairy to breathe life into my story i don't want him to be a real boy i want to have a story that is all mine god doesn't write beautiful stories like i do. "> |
Saturday, May 21, 2005
not really any gayer than any other poem i've ever read
POETRY IS FUCKING DYNOMITE
old bulimic girls vomit while wet eyed virgins rub handjobs
before the street lights come on
and navy boys rape slutty rich girls and fight
over special edition drugs.
in the next episode you blow meth
off the edge of your black dad's cock.
it looks fatal in lesbian perceptions.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
elgin. it's so hot right now. elgin.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
set adrift on memory bliss. not.
i had an enemy in high school. i mean, it didn't even matter because nobody believed it anyway. seriously, i was such a bitch in high school everybody probably thought my vagina had teeth and if we had fucked it would have shredded his cock beyond repair or something. my vagina would be like fizgik or whatever from the dark crystal. AWESOME. how come it was easier for me to remember that i was wearing yellow underwear than it was for me to remember that i made out with my enemy?
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i know my name is steven
so then on saturday i came home from the liquor store and jessica and mike fucking jones are having a fucking candle light dinner on a picnic blanket in the middle of the living room floor. i was like, woah, what the fuck!!! is this for real??? that shit was surreal and i had to get the fuck out so i took off on a delightful vacation to the wonderful city of elgin illinois. i get back this morning and she's gone, her blog is gone, i think her secret dog is gone, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!
the only thing i can think is that mike jones has kidnapped my roommate. because seriously, she didn't even leave a note and that is so unlike her. but the thing that sucks is that since she's an adult or whatever i can't formally file a report for like three days or something and the police are so not taking this seriously. plus i don't think they even believe me that mike jones was even here. and that fucker must watch a lot of forensic files because there is no fucking evidence here. i even shined a black light all over and i got nothing.
don't worry. i'm going to get to the bottom of this if it kills me.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
i love my dead gay job.
i am going to make myself be the happiest worker on earth. today i changed my password from dirtydeluxe to dirtydeluxe! with an exclamation point. this way i will probably start each day super excited instead of like the opposite of super excited. i'm also going to set goals for myself. like my goal for tomorrow is to see if i can jump over my desk. one time my grandpa tried to do this and hurt the hell out of himself. he was like seventy years old though. but i'm going to do it in heels. so we'll see who comes out the victor, me or my dead grandpa. HA! good thing i don't believe in heaven or i might worry that he would be looking down from the clouds crying tears of shame as i kick his ass in the great 2005 desk jumping contest that he never knew he was in. i'm also going to start walking around more, like with papers in my hand and shit. everyone will be like look at that girl, she is so fucking busy! i will be like, yes, i am so fucking busy i can't believe it but i love it though. then i will get a raise. i'm really starting to love my job just thinking about it. love it so much i want to marry it! time to go do some quality chair spinning in the quality assurance lab!!! |
Sunday, May 15, 2005
i have been conditioned
today i woke up next to a super stealth assassin. last night when i went to bed with him i thought he was a normal guy but today i see that my awesome extra sensory perception has failed me again. he told me he liked me and that it was a shame i wouldn't want to stick around now that i knew he killed people for fun and profit. yeah right, i love that shit. it will be just like the professional, except he is younger than me, and not french. awesome.
i liked him so much i decided i would keep him on me at all times. i folded him up and put him in the pocket of my favorite jeans. i let him out when it is time for him to do his job. then he comes back and i fold him up and off we go. i am his getaway car and his getaway driver all at once. basically it's fucking amazing.
i will stay with my little assassin, until he dies or won't have me any longer. he is everything i ever wanted in a killer. he is johnny mayo, and i love him. i never thought it would happen, but i have been conditioned.
Friday, May 13, 2005
eugenics gone wild
holy ralph lauren eighties revival, pink button down shirts with the collar up and asymetrical tucked/untuckedness with bright blue too small v neck sweaters and weirdly cuffed jeans??? this is the kind of shit that makes me wish i had a 5 year old son named bradley so i could call him biff and make him wear little outfits like that. i would totally buy him a power wheels midnight blue super eighties style corvette and teach him how to crush up his ritalin so he could snort it at the lunch table with a hundred dollar bill, which he would call a hondo because he would obviously be so fucking cool. he would probably be like a child prodigy (he is the spawn of me, after all) but i'd ruin the hell out of that by giving him nothing but bret easton ellis and jay mcinerny to read. i'd buy him the rules of attraction and less than zero for his fifth birthday but i'd probably hold out on glamorama and american psycho until he was like eight. that's the story of why i'm on the pill for life. |
Thursday, May 12, 2005
i'll put your lights out like the clapper
it doesn't even have to have any bullets i'm pretty much just going to use it to pistol whip people anyway.
maybe i would be like the mata hari of bounty hunters 2005 style.
maybe i would be like a vigilante. i would hunt down child rapists and they would wake up with me sitting on their chests like a cat. i'd look into their eyes and say "shhhh" and then i would pistol whip them unconscious. when they woke up they would be bound to their beds spread eagle style with an unbearable throbbing in their left temples and trickles of blood spilling down the side of their faces. i would put on fantastic plastic machine and dance around the room in my blue underwear, throwing confetti everywhere. it would be beautiful. then i'd sit down and cross my legs and smoke a cigarette and point my gun at them. i'd make some good aiming faces and little gun noises, travis bickel style. then i would throw confetti all over them and cut off their thumbs. no more opposable thumbs for you, you sick fuck!
i need a handgun.
i could wear it on a garter with a skirt. then when people were looking at me like on the train or something i could lift up my skirt a little and show it to them. then i could wink.
if i had a handgun then when people were talking about shit that was boring instead of pointing my imaginary remote at them and changing the channel by telepathy i could point my gun at them and blow their boring heads off. by telepathy, duh, there's not going to be any bullets in it, aren't you paying attention?
if i had a handgun i wouldn't have to rely on brute force when i was interrogating a suspect.
or date raping dan. whatever.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
it weighed on my mind
on hannukah my brother used to light the candles. i was scared to light a match. i was scared the candles were going to burn our house down. once my pajamas were so staticky that they sparked. it was blue and it popped. i thought i was going to spontaneously combust. i couldn't sleep.
i couldn't sleep a lot when i was little and even when i slept i didn't really sleep. it was the kind of sleep that happens in a car. one night i was sleepwalking and i hit my head on the metal corner of my bed. i went into my parents room and told them i had a headache and my mom felt my forehead with the back of her hand and told me to go back to sleep. then she realized her hand was covered in my blood.
my mom told me that seven was the age of reason. i was scared to turn seven. it weighed on my mind.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
you can tell a lot from a kiss
The sort of pathetic, but not in a sweet way, punch line to my worst kiss ever, is what the guy said to my roommate a week later in the elevator. My then roommate, who incidentally is the dumbest person I have ever met, was most likely doing something obviously vein like checking her make-up or new tan in the mirror, when she asked him if he was going to have sex with me. Apparently he was as perceptive as he was good at kissing, because he shrugged and said, “Probably.” Seriously, he said that.
I was telling my friend Mark this story once, and I was laughing really hard. I wasn’t laughing hard because I’m that funny, but because we were sharing a bottle of tequila, and I was that drunk. I stopped, though, when I realized he wasn’t laughing. Instead he was like, “Wow Erin, you’re really shallow. Did you ever think maybe he hadn’t kissed as many people as you?” What?? Pretty much, he had just called me a shallow whore, because I thought some guy couldn’t kiss well. Obviously Mark wasn’t a good kisser, or he wouldn’t have said that, but it didn’t make sense anyway.
You can tell a lot from a kiss, but sometimes all that matters is you know you never want to kiss that person again. A kiss should be like a romantic expression of what you boil down to, or whatever. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then a kiss is worth a thousand pictures, but I only need one to sum up that boy I met my first year in college. Imagine kissing a turtle crafted from wet cardboard. Gosh maybe Mark was right…
Actually I know I am not shallow because I am made of love, but the best looking guy I have ever kissed, probably the best looking guy I have ever met, definitely was not.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
fatal flying guillotine chops off your fucking head
giant unicorn balloons are fucking awesome. sometimes they fill a room with so much joy that spontaneous homo erotic acts occur by magic.
i was everlastingly peeing out all the vodka and cranberry blueberry juice i had drink drank drunk when the door came crashing in and who stood before me but the venerable rabbi isaac goldstein. he was like suck me you dirty whore, and i was like i get claustrophobic sucking strange dick! then i finished peeing and i used my sick ninja skills to leap onto his back and force his head into the toilet. FLUSSSSHHHH!!! he loved that shit. then he tore off his shirt and screamed “savor the flavor bitch, i’m god’s gift to women!” as he ran into the night.
benny the mooch was there and i think when he saw me he got confused or something because he introduced me to a. sinatose who i have known since like 1998 when i accosted him hauling sod at planters palate and told him i loved his fine injun skin.
Janine took us to hey wanna sher-a-punjab? or something. me and mandy had an eating contest. she didn’t know it was a contest so I pretty much won. she was so pissed she date raped me later. little did she know date rape totally turns me on and i was only pretending to be passed out. so i pretty much won again. fuck yes.
look at my hat, seriously i think i’m so fucking cute when i’m drunk. too bad there were no cheetos and even if there were they probably would have been doritos. the nacho cheesiest.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
B-A-N-A-N-A-S!
at all.
i pretty much had an ultra delightful morning, which is hardly fair considering all the pain and suffering that is going on in the world, so i am listening to probably the awesomest song ever if today was opposite day, like for pennance.
i was going to link to it, but then i realized it is pretty much the equivalent of the brown note or whatever. seriously though, if my ears weren't bleeding i would probably be all LOL LOL ROFL LMAO LMFAO LOL (!!!) because the lyrics are like the funniest shit i've ever seen.
if only i had the funds for a japanese school girl assassin to leap onto the stage at the next MTV awards grabbing gwen stefani's scary white hair in one had while severing her head with a single swipe of her sword. blood would spring out of her neck like a fountain. it would rain down upon all of the harajuku girls.
i will put bindis all over her head and sell it on ebay.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
i am always like an action hero in my dream. like first it's just me driving around in some super awesome seventies style car with people shooting at me. one kid rides his bike up to my car and tries to shoot me in the face. of course i grab his gun out of his hand and pistol whip him with it all while driving, because that is what action heroes do. there was a car chase and i drove into this crazy hidden tunnel where i had to make my plans to escape. the tunnel was made out of bricks and it was kind of wet and algae covered but there were all these people down there sitting around at these tall cafe style round tables playing cards and shit and they all wanted to help me escape for some reason. also this super powerful guy who was like running the whole show was down there. he was pretty much crazy about gambling and he was making bets with everyone about everything. i think i was like fortifying my car with scarp metal or something and making plans with all these tunnel people about how i was going to escape. i'm pretty sure some important guy had a hit on me for some reason. i don't know why. i wasn't even from there, i think i was lost. i ended up coming up with the brilliant idea of making a bet with the crazy underlord of gambling where i bet him i was going to die that night. it was like a gentleman's bet or whatever, because seriously that guy loved gambling so much he didn't even care if there was a prize. of course that guy didn't want to lose the bet so he and all his thugs protected me so i could make it out alive. i must be a fucking genius in my dreams. |
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
seventh grade
we watched april fools alot, and denomic toys, and sat around in her birdie chair waiting for boys to call us. we could sneak in and out super easily. one time we snuck out to meet up with the son of her confirmation teacher. he had a portrait of a suffering jesus over his bed.
we also did stupid stuff like taking black and white pictures of hamburgers and thinking we were artistic or something.
one time we were at the pool and we saw this super fat little kid. like the fattest little kid ever. the kid totally had tits so of course i called him tittie boy. like a hundred times. i think his dad might have been video taping and i'm pretty sure he captured me on tape, calling his son tittie boy. too bad if i somehow went back in time and i saw myself doing that i probably would have pushed myself into the pool. i hope i didn't scar that kid for life, like he went home and started cutting himself and now he's an unemployed bulemic cutter or some shit.
kids are so fucking mean.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
the first boy i ever kissed had blond hair and a gap between his teeth and he could run really fast. it was at a block party so it was way too late but all of the grown ups were drunk and wearing shorts and not paying attention to us and we were playing ghosts in graveyard and it was dark but everyone had their christmas lights strung up from their porches to the streetlights like a canopy, even though it was summer. we were hiding under someone's porch and it was dirty and it smelled like wet leaves, probably because we were surrounded by them, covered in them. he was precocious. i was kneeling on the floor getting some cereal out of the cabinet when my mom came in and told me he was dead. that was like three years later. i was eleven. i kept my head in the cabinet for a really long time trying not to cry. it made my throat hurt. then i ate some cinnamon toast crunch. it was beautiful outside that day. i put my sleeves in my mouth while i cried. for some reason i thought it was really important that everyone thought i didn't care. his best friend was never the same. i walked around outside a lot and looked at the sky. i don't think there was a single cloudy day that summer. |