| Gently |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:37 pm] |
Enter into a dirty world.
Something you love to hate.
But can't resist.
Show me you can handle this.
Grow a pair
And shoot me down.
Hard
Where it hurts
Where it's dark
Where it's spinning
Where control is inconcievable.
A throbbing
Quick and left to be desired.
Alter the rate of this consumption
And fall down slowly
Powerfully and
Without mercy.
Caved in
Without escape
An excitement
A thrill
That heightens with each new taste.
Each new feel.
Every old comfort.
Nothing makes sense.
Everything seems right.
Flesh is no longer as it appears
Something unfamiliar to behold.
Every angle
Leave a mark
Let it sere
Let it hurt.
A wound left untouched
Heals in color
A way to remember
When everyone else has moved on. |
|
|
| Today |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:36 pm] |
Assholes
Bitches are so fucked up.
Desperate for the cock..
Any cock.
They don't give a shit.
I'm pissed, offended and slightly hurt.
I'm gonna go back to not confiding in anyone except myself and Suzanne.
I had something to do tonight....and I have been trying to figure it out all morning...
And I can't.
So I guess that means I get to get drunk at Asbury Lanes, like always.
Getting a new catalytic converter sucks.
I want my car back. I have no idea how I'm getting to work or therapy tomorrow.
I may have to wake up mad early and take my father to work so I can use his car. If I still lived in Middletown this wouldn't be an issue...but I'm so damn far out of the way now.
Again I say, stupid backstabbing whores.
Keep giggling and pretending you're cute and coy.
Hooker.
------------------------------------------------
Don't expect
A warm reception
I'm not a pawn
In your games.
I won't be here much longer
To step on
To kick in the face
To throw salt on
My wounds
Your wounds
It's some sadistic shit
And I'm tired of it.
Find someone else. |
|
|
| May 30, 2005 |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:36 pm] |
Belmar is gay.
Shore people are gay.
Going to Belmar to sit in a smoky house for 45 minutes
.......
IS GAY.
But hey, at least it was amusing.
Good people.
I really miss you.
It comes in waves.
I hate waves.
It's like emotional sea sickness.
It's nice out.
And I'm stuck here.
My car is at Suzanne's.
My car sucks anyway.
I had dreams about spiders and now I'm itchy.
I had a dream about you and now I'm sick..
With regrets and whatnot. |
|
|
| May 29, 2005 |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:34 pm] |
Walking is for hoodlums
Went to Red Bank last night. Got sloppy. Don't remember part of the night.
Went to the diner afterwards. Saw my man Lou. Sean started shit.. Later said he was joking around with him. Lou, being a nice kid, said fuuuck it.
Bianca ran off with her favorite black man. Left me Sean and Rich stranded in Red Bank, no money, no car...no ride home...
Turned her phone off.
Sean and I walked about 2-3 miles to his house....at 3AM.
I'm wearing 4 inch heels.
Took them off.
Walked barefoot the whole way home.
Sean offered his socks and sneakers.
Haha. I declined that offer.
My poor feet :-(
We saw Lauren, Tiffany and Desiree about halfway there.
They didn't give us a ride.
According to Bianca, Lauren is a little bitter that Sean and I were/are hooking up...
So much for nice hippies :-(
To add insult to injury, when we got back to his house, that douchebag Bam and his heartogram shit were on...
I usually hate that show and that guy...
But I was laughing.
And I was SO ashamed.
Haha Bianca called this morning...
"Are you mad at me? I'm sorry."
I told her I wasn't...she's like
"My brother is so mad at me. He text messaged me with 'You're dead bitch.' "
hahahahaha.
I'm gonna start texting people with that.
I don't know why it was so funny to me, but it was.
I woke up early though. Considering it was light out when I went to sleep....I was home by 9:45 this morning.
Not as exciting as it usually is...
But something always seems to happen when I go out with Bianca
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
HOT TITS LIST
We'll start with my Angie Martinez
Fergie
A few of Liz Hurley, since she's my favorite
The lovely, naked Natalie Portman
Masiumi Max. Hot as fuck and pretty as fuck
Angelina, of course
Liv Tyler. Unique hot.
Nicole Kidman. Don't hate
Now, onto the blondes. Paris. Again, don't hate
My perfectly adorably deliciously gorgeous Gwen
Jewel who I adore so much
Last, but not least. Pammy.
</center>
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hate females who bash men. Knock it off. We're no better.
I'm exhausted.
I promised myself I would only write one bulletin today.
So much for that.
My feet hurt
My head hurts
My ass even hurts
Going back to the men-bashers...ever get in a conversation with someone about a guy or a relationship in general, and after tedious, endless bitching, they respond with
"Ugh MEN SUCK."
Uhhh ok? Maybe they just don't care and that's the only response they find worthy. However, I would like to dispute the whole MEN SUCK phenonemon.
Chances are, we suck.
We are more emotional than men, by nature.
When something happens we react differently...more emotionally.
I guess if we don't see said man reacting the same way, it's an issue. It escalates from there the majority of the time.
We can't except a guy to function the same way we do, physically, mentally and emotionally.
Simple explanation right?
"No shit Jacqui" right?
WELL THEN FUCKING THINK ABOUT THAT NEXT TIME YOU'RE CRYING AND BITCHING AND MOANING
Don't blame your messy issues on someone else just because he has a cock and balls.
Don't get me wrong...I'm not hating on other females. I did that shit when I was 16...I'd like to think I'm beyond that...
But I hate to admit it, I really do find females in general to lack common sense more often than men.
We're fucking messes.
I love you all though. |
|
|
| May 28, 2005 |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:31 pm] |
A shared moon
I was homesick when I was at summer camp for two weeks.
I would look up at the moon everynight and say to myself,
"Mommy is looking at the same moon right now."
Momentary comfort. Split second.
But after that brief reassurance, I was even sadder.
For the first 4 nights I curled up in bed and cried myself to sleep.
I wasn't young. Too old to be homesick I think.
Twelve. A few months shy of 13.
To add insult to injury, I "became a woman" while I was there.
I wrote letters home to my mom pretending I was traumatized by it.
Of course I wasn't. But I was willing to try anything.
She never came to get me though.
On the last day I cried all the way home.
That's how much I missed it.
I made good friends.
One in particular.
I wish I could find her.
Those were the days that I was into Nirvana and Hole and being grungy.
Not many of the girls there were like that.
She was.
Her name is Denise.
I went to visit her in New York a few months later.
Her friend Willie Cheechi played in some "band" (remember, we were 13)...
We became boyfriend/girlfriend...wrote lots of letters...
Then he got creepy and started saying weird shit, so I stopped talking to him.
That was around the same time I started doing record reviews for a zine.
They would send me a shit load of free music, and I'd have to write up a quick review. Lasted for 2 issues and then I believe they cut shit off. Not enough money.
I would love to do something like that again though.
Just for the free shit.
It's getting chilly. I'm sitting out here trying to get some color.
I don't think it'll work though.
My Adult ADD will kick in and I'll have to go inside and find some other way to preoccupy myself.
My friend's boyfriend just told me he had a dream that I was going down on his girl.
I told him it wasn't a dream at all.
I miss my backyard at home. It was huge and it backed up into a farm.
It was weird too. This was the only farm left in that area....and we got it. I think they sold corn. I'm not sure. But it was gorgeous, especially in the fall.
I'm having an ugly day and it's super depressing.Everything just feels blah.
<3
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
fucking liar
Mr. cool guy
I'm too smart for that shit
too smart for you
I could kill you
on your knees crying
don't tempt me
i don't mind
it doesn't bother me.
try me.
Open my mouth and you're destroyed.
just remember that.
Who am i trying to convince?
you, you dipshit.
this isn't about me.
don't turn this shit around.
you're not clever
and you're not sneaky
you're a generic form of what you strive to be
transparent
and everyone knows
your indifference is old
find something new
to make the females cry about
aging
bitter
and not even attractive
you have nothing else going for you
you're not smooth
you're not a catch
you're a "shit how much did I drink last night?"
i'm not bitter.
this isn't about you
or anyone in particular
just know
that i know
--------------------------------------------------------------
that emptiness
eyes half shut
too lazy to make the necassary efforts.
corrections and passions.
it's an addiction
and it's futile.
a way to pass time
time that I have too much of.
I could give you some of mine,
If you could fill this hole
this void
with what you have and what you offer.
I'm hungry for his attention
and I will smother myself in his affections.
it's a false sense of importance
but it doesn't matter.
let me soak in your sanity
and allow myself this hope
for now i can distract myself from this
gnawing
for now it won't really matter
Until i wake up alone again
Swallow an empty space and
stroke what once existed.
--------------------------------------------------------------- |
|
|
| May 25, 2005 |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:30 pm] |
She's a maneater
Watch out boys, she'll chew you up
Decisions...
decisions.
I feel like a cheap little vixen lately.
I could lay my options out on the myspace table right now but it probably wouldn't be a good idea. These people have friends lurking in all corners. I don't wanna offend anyone.
Not like I'd say anything offensive, but I apparently open my mouth too much.
I don't hold back.
One little thing can set off any little manbitch.
Just know that I have Le Tigre's version of "I'm So Excited" stuck in my head.
I have a stye :-(
Which is code for EYE-HERPES.
No I'm kidding. It doesn't have anything to do with that.
But it DOES hurt like a motherfucker.
I had some weird ass dreams last night.
Dreams about certain someones I know working at Sally's (Beauty supply store)...
certain male someones...
certain tough-ass male someones...
selling beauty supplies..
wearing a SMOCK.
doling out professional-like makeup advice...
hair dye advice...
It was cute in a VERY annoying way.
Like an adorable mosquito that just won't leave you alone?
Sorta.
I have yet to see an adorable mosquito though.
Dude I just saw some shit.
My dad's fiance already took his last name or some shit.
Dumb cooze.
"Cindy Rodgers"
Way to tarnish the good family name.
:-(
I'm going out with my father today.
I'm gonna try to convince him to buy me stuff.
Lots of stuff.
Shit from Target. I need things for my room.
And I need some pajamas.
And makeup.
Cause I have eye-herpes.
It's so damn cold and dreary.
I have to babysit tonight...
Which means I have to drive to punk rock bowling alone when I get out.
Which means I can't drink :-(
Which means yada yada yada.
You know the drill.
So what does it mean when you step on the gas lightly and your car makes a low, rumbe type of noise?
It's loud but it's low? Ya know? Coming from the bowels of the tired, overworked, jap engine.
And it's only when there's a certain amount of pressure on the gas pedal. Light pressure.
I'm gonna go shower before my father has a damn heart attack.
----------------------------------------------------------
walmart is creepy but costco is delicious
Suzanne thought it was funny that my father and I went to Costco for lunch.
We're cheap and we love our hot dogs.
A buck fiddy for a hot dog and a large drink.
You can't beat it.
Plus, you get to eat under a rad Hebrew National umbrella.
I think she initially thought I went there to eat food samples for lunch.
I'm not THAT bad.
Yet.
I hate everyone today.
For not talking to me.
Boring and dull.
Is what to call me.
;-)
Just so you know, Will Smith is a douche. But he always makes me laugh.
Does that make me a douche by default?
So I went to Walmart today to get my oil changed.
It's so damn creepy in those stores.
It REEKS of desperation and hopelessness.
It's writtin all over everyone's faces.
Pleading in their sallow cheeks and bitterness seeping out of their lined, creased and haggard, leather like skin.
Even the people who work there seem to be existing in this other realm...a realm of weirdness...slightly remedial.
A walmart existence is definitely unique.
Intoxicating too.
It pulls you in.
My father wants to help me clean my room. Surface clean the empty bottles and shit...
My dad is convinced I'm a pothead though and apparently Armondo left his weed somewhere in my room last time he was over...I have yet to find it but I also wasn't really looking.
My dad will be the one to find it...
and he'll give me a "I KNEW IT! AH HA!" look.
Bastid.
My poor stye :-( |
|
|
| May 24, 2005 Again |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:28 pm] |
I had major problems sleeping last night.
I woke up once every 45 minutes. I finally said fuuuck it about an hour ago and stayed up...I don't have to be at work till 9. It's 7:30.
It'll take me 10 minutes to finish getting ready.
So, here I am.
It's gloomy outside. I'm not sure yet if this is a good thing...
Or a bad thing.
I bet it's cold. Cold and damp.
Disgusting.
Suffocating but destitute, all at once.
I know you know the kinda day I mean.
Thank god I'm working until 7:30 tonight.
My room is such a mess. The less time I spend down here, the messier it gets.
It's a giant closet as opposed to a place I live.
Clothes everywhere. Magazines, glasses of water, empty beer bottles and shoes without their other half.
I
am
a
pig.
As AC Slater would say, "Oink Oink Baby."
I wonder if I miss high school. When I think about it I can't find anything specific that I miss...but I have this odd feeling of yearning. I don't wanna be trite and say it was a time of innocense...cause it really wasn't any different than now (except for 9-11...but that timing is just coincidence. It could have easily happened while I was still in school).
I don't have adult responsibilities per se...so it's not like I miss being so-called "carefree" and responsibility-free.
I don't think I miss the people...the ones I was friends with are still in touch for the most part...
The rest can go fuck themselves.
I miss things like having crushes...
Cutting classes (made the trip to dunkin donuts fun as opposed to habit)
I miss the smell of the hallways
And I miss looking forward to little things like an assembly or a fire drill. Things that broke the monotony of routine.
I miss getting excited to see someone in the halls that I had JUST seen 2 period earlier.
Sneaking into the cafeteria to get soggy ass fries during the first lunch...
I miss last period. Last period had a different feel. It even smelled differently.
I even kind of miss the days I walked to school. The disgusting feel of dew on wet jeans. A cold morning chill on a warm day. Waiting until I rounded the last curve to light up so my mom wouldn't see me smoking cigarettes.
Walking halfway to school to humor my mom and then turning around to enjoy a "sick" day.
I don't know...
Missing school is inevitable. Even if you hated it.
It was such a huge part of your life.
At 23 years old, it was your WHOLE life.
Love it or hate it, it's you.
I can't believe people are actually IMing me.
It's 7:45. Leave me alone douchebags.
I have NO desire to talk to you.
Thank you.
I'm gonna get ready. Stop at my Dunkin Donuts...
Like the old days cutting Mr. Meyer's first period Chem class.
Bringing his ass back bagels and coffee.... |
|
|
| May 24, 2005 |
[Jun. 1st, 2005|06:27 pm] |
Can you love someone's words but hate their face?
Perception is a motherfucker.
I could fall in love with you probably.
And your fucking insincerity.
My little man loves me, unconditonally. All I have to do is feed him...
Snuggle with him...
Dangle string in front of his delicious face.
Talk in a really obnoxious, high pitched voice...ALL the time.
When I'm away for awhile...at work or overnight somewhere...he waits by the door for me, meowing.
The whole night apparently.
When I finally do come home, he follows me everywhere.
He gets into bed with me, curls up and falls asleep for HOURS.
He's tuckered out from all the waiting.
Sometimes I catch him staring at me...wide-eyed, wondering.
Frankly, it freaks me the fuck out most of the time.
But when I sit back and think about it, like right now for example, it's fucking adorable.
I love him to death.
My fat cat.
Sam.
I hate feeling awkward in front of people.
I used to be really shy...
Up until my junior year in high school probably...maybe even my senior...
I've really overcome it in the past 3 or 4 years though.
I don't know if I just don't give a fuck...or if I'm more comfortable in my skin...
Perhaps a combination of both.
Either way, I'm not nearly as shy as I was.
I'm not what you would consider outgoing however.
I'm still an introvert and I'd rather observe as opposed to participate.
I don't want to converse with anyone until I have decided they can pique my interest and aren't total fucking tools.
Snobby?
Maybe....
The truth?
Yes.
I'm not gonna sugar-coat it.
There are still certain people that make me crawl back into my Shy-Shell though.
And I fucking HATE it. I feel like such an asshole.
I work with a woman like that.
I don't know what it is about these people. Maybe the way they look at you.
It's nothing they outwardly, tangibly do.
It's a feeling...almost an aura.
Makes me feel so juvenile and foolish.
I like that Bullshit! show on showtime. Shit's funny.
Obnoxious and funny. Exactly what I dig.
They were disproving Near death experiences today...
The scientific explanation made perfect sense.
They even tested it out...
But of course the people who had these supposed "NDE's" talked their way around it with spiritual mumbo jumbo shit.
It was kinda creepy.
I'm gonna try to go to sleep. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 24th, 2005|08:28 pm] |
Do I call him or no?
This could have possible potential...
And that scares me to fucking death...
Plus, he's not that tall and I'm shallow as shit...
When it comes to height.
6'0-6'3=perfect height.
5'10=ehhhhh
I like how I make up excuses.
Work was long today.
I am hungry and Howie is back from Las Vegas.
I wanna go back to Nevada. LV this time.
I wanna see a real desert.
Not a high one.
Altitude high.
I yelled at this little asian girl today..and she looks at me, hands on hips, eyes slanted (more than usual?) and says
" I AM REALLY MAD AT YOU JOCKIE!"
Hahah you obviously had to be there to appreciate it...it was fucking funny shit though.
My car is making funny noises :-(
Who wants to buy me a new one?
I have a bruise on my eyelid.
Or maybe it's my eyeball.
Who wants to lick it all better?
Blah. 8:15. I'm gonna take a shower.
Eat some food.
Be hospitable in a house that isn't even my own.
"Vicki was all right. but we had our troubles. we were on the wine. port. that woman would get drunk and get to talking and she would make up some of the vilest imaginable stuff about me. and that tone of voice: shoddy and lisping and grating and insane. it would get to any man. it got to me.
once she was screaming these insanities from the fold down bed in our apartment. I begged her to stop. but she wouldn't. finally, I just walked over, lifted up the bed with her in it and folded everything into the wall.
then I went over and sat down and listened to her scream....
but she kept screaming so I walked over and pulled the bed out of the wall again there she lay, holding her arm, claiming it was broken.
'your arm can't be broken,' I said.
'it is, it is. oh you slimy jackoff bastard, you've broken my arm!'
I had some more drinks but she kept holding her arm and whining. I finally had enough and telling her I'd be right back I went downstairs and outside and found some old wooden boxes behind a grocery store. I found good sturdy slats, ripped them off, pulled out the nails, got back on the elevator and rode back to our apartment.
it took about 4 slats. I bound them around her arm with rippings from one her dresses, she quieted down for a couple of hours. then she started in again. I couldn't take it anymore. so I called a taxi. we went to the General Hospital. as soon as the taxi left I took the boards off and threw them into the street. then they x-rayed her CHEST and put her arm in a cast.
can you imagine that?
I suppose if she broke her head they'd x-ray her ass.
anyhow, she used to sit in the bars after that and say, 'I am the only woman who has been folded into a wall in a wall bed.'
and I wasn't so sure of THAT either, but I let her go on saying it.
now, another time she angered me and I slapped her but it was across the mouth and it broke her false teeth.
I was surprised that it broke her false teeth. and I went out and got this super cement glue and I glued her teeth together for her. it worked for awhile and then one night as she sat there drinking her wine she suddenly had a mouthful of broken teeth...."
"we'd usually always have these arguments after we drank awhile, and Vicki claimed I'd get very mean when I was drunk but I think that she was the one who was mean. anyhow, sometime during the argument she'd get up, slam the door and run outside to some bar...
...one time she ran out and I sat there drinking the wine, thinking about it. then I got up and found the elevator and rode on down to the streets too. I found her in her favorite bar. she sat there holding a kind of purple scarf. I'd never seen the purple scarf before. holding out on me. I walked up to her and said quite loudly:
'I've tried to make a woman out of you but you're nothing but a god damned whore!'
the bar was full.
every seat taken. I lifted my hand. I swung. I backhanded her off that goddamned stool. she fell to the floor and screamed.
this was at the back end of the bar. I didn't even turn to look at her. I walked the length of the bar to the exit. then I turned and faced the crowd.
it was very quiet.
'now,' I said to them, 'if there's anybody here who doesn't like what I just did, just SAY something...'
it was quieter than quiet.
...'I've come back to you, you lucky darling,' I told her.
'you bastard, you hit me! YOU HIT ME!'
'umm,' I said, opening a new bottle. 'and you give me any more shit and I'll hit you again.'
'YEAH!' she screamed, 'YOU'D HIT ME BUT YOU WOULDN'T HAVE ENOUGH GUTS TO HIT A MAN!'
'HELL NO!' I screamed back. 'I WOULDN'T HIT A MAN! YOU THINK I'M CRAZY? WHAT'S THAT GOT TO DO WITH IT?'
that settled her for a bit and we sat for a bit and we sat drinking down the waterglassfuls of wine, port.
then she started in on her abusive stuff again, mostly claiming I jacked off while she was asleep.
well even if it were true, I figured that was my business and if it wasn't, then she was REALLY crazy. she claimed I jacked off in the bathtub, in the closet, in the elevator, everywhere.
everytime I got out of the tub she'd run into the bathroom like:
'there! SEE IT! LOOK AT IT!'
'you crazy bat, that's just a dirt ring.'
'no, that's COME! that's COME!'
or she'd run in while I was bathing under the arms or between the legs and say, 'see, see, SEE! you're DOING IT!'
'doing WHAT? can't a man wash his BALLS? those are MY balls, god damn you! can't a man wash his own balls?'
'what's that thing sticking up there?'
'my left index finger. now get the HELL OUT OF HERE!'
or in my bed I'd be sound asleep and all of a sudden this hand grabbing my string and nuggets, man, sound asleep in the middle of the night, these FINGERNAILS!
'AH HA! I CAUGHT YOU, I CAUGHT YOU!'
'for christ's sake, go to sleep...' "
That's one of my favorite Bukowski short stories..
well, part of it at least. I'm not typing anymore out now. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 24th, 2005|12:15 am] |
Can you love someone's words but hate their face?
Perception is a motherfucker.
I could fall in love with you probably.
And your fucking insincerity.
My little man loves me, unconditonally. All I have to do is feed him...
Snuggle with him...
Dangle string in front of his delicious face.
Talk in a really obnoxious, high pitched voice...ALL the time.
When I'm away for awhile...at work or overnight somewhere...he waits by the door for me, meowing.
The whole night apparently.
When I finally do come home, he follows me everywhere.
He gets into bed with me, curls up and falls asleep for HOURS.
He's tuckered out from all the waiting.
Sometimes I catch him staring at me...wide-eyed, wondering.
Frankly, it freaks me the fuck out most of the time.
But when I sit back and think about it, like right now for example, it's fucking adorable.
I love him to death.
My fat cat.
Sam.
I hate feeling awkward in front of people.
I used to be really shy...
Up until my junior year in high school probably...maybe even my senior...
I've really overcome it in the past 3 or 4 years though.
I don't know if I just don't give a fuck...or if I'm more comfortable in my skin...
Perhaps a combination of both.
Either way, I'm not nearly as shy as I was.
I'm not what you would consider outgoing however.
I'm still an introvert and I'd rather observe as opposed to participate.
I don't want to converse with anyone until I have decided they can pique my interest and aren't total fucking tools.
Snobby?
Maybe....
The truth?
Yes.
I'm not gonna sugar-coat it.
There are still certain people that make me crawl back into my Shy-Shell though.
And I fucking HATE it. I feel like such an asshole.
I work with a woman like that.
I don't know what it is about these people. Maybe the way they look at you.
It's nothing they outwardly, tangibly do.
It's a feeling...almost an aura.
Makes me feel so juvenile and foolish.
I like that Bullshit! show on showtime. Shit's funny.
Obnoxious and funny. Exactly what I dig.
They were disproving Near death experiences today...
The scientific explanation made perfect sense.
They even tested it out...
But of course the people who had these supposed "NDE's" talked their way around it with spiritual mumbo jumbo shit.
It was kinda creepy.
I'm gonna try to go to sleep. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2005|09:24 pm] |
Somebody at one of these places asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like it's looks, you make a pet out of it.
- Charles Bukowski
 
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2005|08:54 pm] |
An essence reborn
The mundane tends to excite me.
I look forward to a void routine.
I enjoy a false sense of luxury.
There's a fine line between said luxury and boredom.
I have erased this line...
Sporadically.
Sections obsolete...
Shit gets confusing.
Empty bottles clutter this space
More than you do.
Unfolded laundry which no longer smells of spring freshness
Keeps me warm at night
Not the rough
Defined whiteness.
A sense of dread everytime I inhale the disease
I'm not sure what it means
I'm not sure I care.
I often remove myself from myself.
The essence of myself.
Disconnected, I question this existence.
I forget who I am.
"I'm Jacqui I'm Jacqui I'm Jacqui"
Repeated until I reconnect
Until I reenter as one.
Don't worry...
I don't understand it either.
But it happens
At least once a month
And I'm not the same for the rest of the day.
Get me out of my head.
Get me out of this stale smokiness.
A smothering heat
A potentially deadly noise.
Those same empty bottles
And the thin girth of my disease.
Dead eyes.
A chilling bitterness.
It creeps in when I least expect it.
Ass to the ground...
A clenched river of red...
Yah well fuck you too.
I don't need you.
You're not good enough.
I HATE you, don't you understand?
I don't care!
Lies.
All lies.
No one believes them anymore.
I had them going for awhile.
But I'm tired now.
I need to steady myself.
I need to lean.
To rely
and to love.
I'm ready.
Throw these bottles away.
Alter the routine.
Air out the smothering heat...the stale smoke
and block out the pleading desperation.
Open myself up.
To you.
If not you...
Maybe you. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2005|08:53 pm] |
Someone unsubscribed to my blog :-(
It got shitty out and I need a good book to read.
Things are stagnant.
This is when I crave crisis.
It's not a good thing...but I do it.
Constant, minor crisis..and/or conflict.
I want someone to push me down the stairs...abortions are too pricey and I don't have any wire hangers handy (no wiiiire hangerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)..nah but fo rill, I want some pills.
I can't wait to go to work. I'm damn bored. You better have looked at those webpages I posted before..they're awesome.
Makes me wanna take a road trip.
I've been matchmaker lately...and I'm not sure why.
I'm not matchmaker type...
Maybe I'm attempting to live vicariously through others.
Way to go Jacqui.
I don't know how I went five years without a "companion."
Not even a boyfriend..just someone...a warm body ya know...
I didn't even feel lonely either.
Twinges every once in awhile but they were passing.
I was convinced I was asexual.
No boyfriend, no sex for five years...and no desire for either?
You'd wonder too.
There goes that theory.
Now I'm THAT girl..
That girl who's always whining about being lonely and sad.
I hate being THAT girl. It's so NOT ME.
I'll fuck it up anyway. Anything...anyONE...that comes my way.
I fuck it up. I get scared and fuck it all up.
The degrees of injury lessen each time, but it's still destructive.
I'm gonna brew another pot and make some delicious sausages. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2005|08:51 pm] |
Invisible
Trapped
Indesicive
Alone. Scared.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 22nd, 2005|03:20 pm] |
Aaaand today.
I'm not Spanish I swear
So I've had 4 people ask me if I'm Spanish in the past month...
How do I look Spanish all of a sudden? I get Italian too, but that's a bit more understandable.
I'm Irish...
With a little bit of French, German and Dutch...
No Spanish..
However, my uncle is convinced we have Spanish blood...
He looks VERY Puerto Rican at times (maybe it's the stache), and my grandmother looked VERY hispanic in pictures of her when she was younger.
Who knows...
Last night this kid says,
"So, what are you..Spanish and Italian?"
Huh? I don't see it at all.
Is it because I banged a Puerto Rican kid?
Now I'm Latina by association?
Anyway. I'm bored. That's why I keep yappin.
It's shitty out and I have nowhere to go.
My car drives like shit...it's hardly fun to drive anymore, which sucks...
cause driving is one of my favorite things to do.
My car used to be fun and peppy...and it handled well (relatively speaking...)...now it's sloppy around turns...sluggish....noisy...
:-(
So my Gwen got breast implants huh?
Good for her. Anyone who knocks that shit is a fucking douchebag.
She apparently went from an AA to a C...She looks awesome.
I love Gwen...I think that's why I got all weird about that whole Tila thing...
Talking shit about Gwen Stefani is ridiculous...
She's probably one of the nicest, most genuine people out there..from what I can tell at least and from what people have said that have worked with her.
I could be wrong, but I doubt it.
And people who have shit to say about her selling out...Give me a break...
She has her own style..she didn't bite off anyone (no, not even Madonna)...she's always been extremely eclectic in the shit she's done...
Stop fuckin hating.
So those of you who have been asking where my bulletins have been...HERE YA GO...I'm on a role.
Silly little monkeys. New Jersey, again.
I'm not picking on you I SWEAR...but I just got a message from someone saying they don't consider Newark north jersey...
come on now guys...
I don't wanna have to explain the division again..
Even if you don't believe in the CENTRAL jersey phenonemon, Newark is MOST definitely north jerzzzzz.
Look at it from the parkway's point of view (haha)...goes up to exit what...156? (or is it 160something? I rarely go up that way past 153, unless I'm going to Maine)...Newark's exit is 148...The parkway goes south to exit ONE..ONE..
148 is DEFINITELY north jersey.
Silly little monkeys of mine ;-)
And like I said, I'm NOT picking on you...It just drives me crazy...
The divisions seem so damn LOGICAL to me, I can't fathom people not understanding it.
It's cool though..not everyone is as Jersey-crazy as me...
It's a sickness...
I have a fevA..
And the only prescription for it is........................
Tell me my bebiiiiiies.
Still didn't get in the shower. Lazy bitch I am.
This weird shit happened to me last night...
If you wanna know, message me..
Honestly though, it won't be weird to you unless you know me personally...
So if you know me personally, and are dying of curiosity...message me..
I was kinda freaked out to be honest with you.
Not impressed with the North Jersey crowd
I'm exhausted. I didn't get home until 4:30....and I was sober. Designated driver night....
It sucked though cause I had to drive to Newark and be sober in Tequila Joes....if you've ever been there, you understand my plight. I wanted to kill about 98 percent of the douchebags there. They were "moshing" to gay shit like Linkin Park and the Deftones...and it fucking KILLED me to watch. At one point Suzanne came over (drunk) and was like, "Do you feel like you're on a totally different level than these people?"
And unfortunately I did...and do....
I hate to admit it, but I am a fucking snob...and I was looking down on just about every single person there...
Of course we can rationalize it with the whole "She hates them cause she hates herself" spiel....true or not, you are my peons.
The end.
What a strange fucking crowd though.
No one even remotely attractive....weird ass wannabe-goth-raver kids with shiny shirts and bad eye makeup....
Tubby broads with not enough clothes on....
Sweaty homos with gay tribal sleeves (who the fuck does that?)
....Shit...Not saying I'm miss America or uber stylish...but I was dissapointed in the North Jersey crowd. That's all.
There was an upside though...
Guess what was outside after they closed?
Mmmmhmm..you guessed it..
A HOT DOG TRUCK.
I had 2 hot dogs and a Kanish..however it's spelled.
And I ate it all, left a few bites of the potatoey goodness...
I'm a man, hear me roar?
I was watching this couple last night...they were in the 2 percent I didn't wanna line up against a wall and kill, execution style. They were cute...the girl was kinda funny looking though...and it made me wonder...
How can be so in love and/or so into someone make everything else around you obsolete?
You don't even wanna LOOK at anyone else...nevermind think of them...
Gorgeous bitch with a SPARKLING personality can enter into your life, and all you think about is HER at home...the one you love...
Maybe I'm shallow..maybe that's why I ask this question...
I've only had feelings like that about someone ONCE...many many years ago...and it baffled me then...
cause he was a dick..and a funny lookin one at that....and I would have died for him...
I dunno....I don't wanna be that vulnerable again...but I kinda do.
A vulnerability I have better control over perhaps.
I'm gonna go take a shower...waking up at 1:30 is THE gay. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 22nd, 2005|03:18 pm] |
Saturday May 21, 20053 entries
This restlessness is killing me.
I wanna do something with you.
I wanna see you...and I wanna feel you...
Or at least tell myself that I am.
Feeling you that is.
I think I could learn to like this situation.
It's not boring.
That's for sure.
It's painful but pain seems to be the essence of life...
You can't have your pleasure without it.
The more pain
The more pleasure.
Give me the extremes. The sacrifice tends to be worth it.
The passion is a turn on.
Come and bother me.
Rile me up. I beg you.
Whatever. It's futile.
Tonight I'll tell myself that I don't give a shit.
Tonight I'll be carefree.
Tonight I won't think about you.
I'm gonna have a good time. Without you.
No doubt.
Gay show. That I can't stop watching.
Some big fat dude with red hair and chipmunk cheeks.
He's got a winter's supply of feed in there.
Lucky bastid.
Scraggly french broad. She's desperate to be saved.
Or rescued.Or left alone.
I'm tired.
I'm bored.
My dad is insane.
I'm thinking in fragments.
Sporadically. Kind of in a FAST slow motion.
Make sense? Of course it doesn't.
My dad thinks complaining to the cops was the right thing to do. I thought I'd make enemies. But apparently if I HAD filed a complaint against this cop, it would have actually been effective. I thought it would be one of those futile things that would later be laughed at...but they take it seriously I guess....according to my dad....he knows everything as far as I'm concerned.
Not like I was gonna file a complaint....
However, I am gonna write down all the info...I have 60 days to file if for some reason something else happens.
Oh well. I'm gonna go get dressed.
second
I went to the Red Bank police station...
Which was most likely a bad idea in the long run...now I made enemies with them all...but I was pissed.
I explained what happened to the head guy...he said that while he doesn't condone the other officer's behavior, he kinda understands where he's coming from..or at least where he was coming from initially....Cause someone DID yell "FUCK RED BANK PIGS" apparently...my mouth was moving, I was saying I love red bank cops...he thought it was me...fine...Tell me to go home...but don't start shit with me...telling me to be a man and grow balls...that's just belligerant and unprofessional.
So this guy took my name and shit and told me he'd talk to him about his attitude. He asked me a few times if I wanted to pursue it any further...of course I don't. In fact, I didn't go there to tattle...I was actually kinda hoping this cop was there so we could straighten shit out. I wanted to talk to him face to face...But, whatever....
I know you probably think I'm making a huge deal out of nothing, but honestly, no one talks to me like that...I don't care if you're a cop. If you won't respect me at least respect your job and yourself...That's all.
Anyway, that's about it...got my nails done...talked to some hot cop man meat...
Now I'm home being bored.
third
Guess who made an ass of herself last night!?
That's right...
It was me...
And I wasn't even that drunk...I did one shot and drank like 4 beers. That's IT. Yet I still managed to be a dancing fool, make out with some kid, while his friend took camera phone pictures (grab her boobs dude, do it!), and fight with a cop who is convinced I said "FUCK RED BANK PIGS!" (All I said was "Ooooh a red bank cop, I looove red bank and hazlet cops)....Dude was paranoid. At one point he told me to be a man and tell the truth..
I was like "You're kidding right? I'm 23..I don't say things like 'FUCK PIGS' anymore...I'm talking to your supervisor tomorrow morning."
Haha yah, I said it...He was such an ass though. I was frustrated as shit. I am almost tempted to write them a letter. I don't appreciate being harrassed by some rookie cop on a pseudo power trip...I've always gotten along great with them too..until last night.
I flagged another cop down though and explained what happened...he thought it was funny that I thought cops on bikes were hot...but he "wasn't too sure about those Hazlet cops." He said he'd talk to the other dude.
As you can tell I was really concerned about this. Mainly because I WASN'T sloppy drunk and I WAS fully aware that I was being viewed as some delinquent punk ass....which is SO not me, ya know?
Oh well. Ruined my night.
I met this kid there...well I didn't meet him..I've known him since the Billy Harney bridge days when I was like 13...but I saw him for the first time in like 6 years...kid is fucking hot...I promised him I was gonna call when we left the bar...but I knew it would be a bad idea....(see this is why I don't have a boyfriend...I convince myself that everything is a BAD idea)....he called me at least 7 times within 45 minutes..Bianca told him I was passed out at one point..then he text messaged me at 4AM with "What the fuck."
I feel bad :-/ I promised him I'd call..he even left his dying phone on for me....I'm mean...and he's so hot.
Grimey hot but in a delicious clean way.
I danced with some hot hot hot, gorgeous old ladies last night. They were probably around 40...blonde, tan, big boobs, pretty clothes, young looking faces....I was impressed and couldn't help myself. They were too tempting. Then at the end of the night I danced with this BIGGGG TUBBY broad...the guy who sang for this gay band was actually really hot, so I kept sorta-dancing with him and singing bad songs with him...then this big tub of big mama lard jumps in....Dumb hoooooooooooooooo fuckin up my flow. But what do I do?
I start grinding my ass up against her cottage cheese rolls.
Oh well.
Now I have to get my nails did.
And no, nothing happened with you know who.
I'm gooood and so not interested.
Ok I lie...when I don't see him I'm not interested..
When I do I'm like
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck he looks good...
And he's a fucking dick too, which for me, makes him that much hotter.
But yah....Seperate beds. Good deal.
<3 |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 22nd, 2005|03:17 pm] |
Friday May 20, 2005 3 entries
true romance style
I get on these odd Eminem kicks every couple of months. I become obsessed with him for a few weeks and listen to his ass all day long.
And don't message me hating on him...It's old and I've heard it all before. Don't feed me predictable shit. Chances are he does shit you couldn't even fathom..shit your so called talented underground "hip hop artists" couldn't even attempt.
Don't pull the hip-hop-head-white-boy card and get all upitty and superior.
You're not deemed more culturally aware or admirable because you listen to overrated, mediocre hip hop...hip hop that's SUPPOSED to be good cause it's OUT OF THE LOOP...UNDERGROUND....
Fuuuuuck it. I don't buy it for a hot mothaaaaaaaafuckin minute.
"The more you, put me through,
The more it makes me wanna come back to you,
You say you hate me, I just love you more,
You don't want me, I just want you more,
I buy you flowers, you throw 'em at me,
I know it's sad but it's makin me happy,
The more that you slap me, the more that it turns me on,
Cuz you love me, and I love you more.
It's sick, but who could ever predict,
We'd be doin' the same shit,
We say we do it for our baby but we don't,
We do it for us, it's lust,
Cuz neither one of us trusts each other,
So we fuck 'til we bust,
Then we cuss each other, out,
We know what it's about,
Shout 'til I throw you out the house,
You throw me out the house,
I throw you on the couch,
Punch you in the mouth,
Fist fight 'til we turn this mother OUT,
And apologize after,
Laughter, pain, it's insane,
We're back in the same chapter again,
And it's sad but it's true,
When I'm layin' here with you,
There ain't nothin' anyone could ever say ever do.
Cuz I hate you, do you hate me?
Good cuz you're so fuckin' beautiful when you're angry,
It makes me wanna just take you,
And just throw you on the bed,
And fuck you like I don't even know you,
You fuck other people, and I fuck other people,
You a slut but I'm equal, I'm a mutt,
We're both evil in our ways,
But neither one of us would ever admit it,
Cuz one of us would have one up on the other,
So forget it,
We can make accusations, people spread rumors,
But they ain't got proof,
'Til they do it's just the two of us,
It's you and me, cuz any chick can say that she's screwin' me,
But you gotta believe me to a degree,
Cuz if you didn't I wouldn't be hittin' it,
Yeah I would cuz the sex is too damn good,
If I ran who would I run to,
That would be this soft and warm,
So it's off and on, usually more off than on,
But at least we know that we share this common bond,
You're the only one I can fuck without a condom on,
I hope, the only reason that I cope,
Is cuz of that fact,
And plus I can bust in that,
And that's why...
I could never understand it,
That's why I don't try,
From junior high until we both die,
It's silly ho why must we try,
Is it really so rough,
That we must always call each other's billy goat's gruff,
Try to pull each other's legs,
Until the other begs,
We're liein' to ourselves,
That's the beauty of it yeah,
Cuz we truly love each other,
That's why we always fight,
And all we do is shove each other,
Every other fuckin' night,
And it's clear it ain't gonna change,
It's pent up rage,
We both have,
We both feel like we've been upstaged by someone else,
We've both been,
Someone else's someone else,
Problem is neither one wants help,
It's an addiction and it can't be fixed,
Our family's mixed up,
There's a baby sister in the mix,
And it hurts cuz the pieces to the puzzle don't fit,
And anybody who thinks they know us doesn't know shit,
And they're probably just tired of hearin' it all the time,
On every song, every lyric, and every rhyme,
All the hoopla, all of the whoopdy whoop,
What you put me through, fuckin' whoopdy doo,
But I won't be made a fool of,
If this is true love,
You wouldn't do what,
You did last time,
You wouldn't screw up,
This time,
Cuz this time girl,
I'm tellin you what,
You do it again I'm fuckin you up,
No matter what...
What you say, what you do,
I'ma hunt you down 'til I find you,
No matter where you run, I'll be right there,
Right behind you, in your nightmares,
All the flowers, and the candy,
All the times that you threw it back at me,
You say you hate me, you gon' hate me more,
When you find out, can't escape me whore."
second
I wanna go on a road trip.
2 summers ago I was gonna be a real hippy and drive to Indiana to see Shannon Hoon's grave. I'd still actually LOVE to do that. Not only because I love Mr. Richard Hoon (and it'll be 10 years on October 21), but because Indiana is the perfect destination for a road trip...Anyone down?
Can't use my car. It's getting way too old. A 99 with 166k on it. It won't be happy with that much driving exertion.
I wanna go to Maine too. But you all know that by now.
Fuck I miss my Maine.
I wanna go to Nevada. I don't know if I'd wanna drive there though..not this year at least. Maybe next year I'd do that.
Internet boyfriend is Mr. Road Warrior. I wanna go next time. Just for the backseat highway 66 banging and cactus.
I'd miss my boo-babies though. :-/
Cats don't really appreciate road trips..especially cross country.
Haha Karl referring to Leonardo/Port Monmouth as "the far outskirts of Middletown" is awesome.
It's a jungle out here.
I wish I had a good voice. I'd like to become ..5793575897574573457346746837463874 trite-singer/songwriter. But my voice SUCKS. There goes that dream.
I wish I could be one of those broads that looked cute in a sweatshirt and baseball hat...the whole "I just jumped outta bed and threw this super cute CAP on. Look at me and my wholesomeness!" Giggle giggle.
Oh well.
I'll bee baaack.
third
I have been sleeping like it's my job. It's depressing...but today is depressing, in one of those GOOD depressing ways. Rainy, grey days give me an excuse to do absolutely nothing...
I would probably be doing absolutely nothing anyway, even if the sun was out and birds were bangin, but now my laziness is justified.
I'm reading all these Mother's Day cards Cindy has lying around...(I swear she left them around intentionally...I didn't get her one...intentionally...she doesn't deserve it, from me at least-suck on that lady)...
So yah, the shit everyone is writing...it seems to sincere and heart-felt..and I think it is for the most part (except for Patty's..she's just phony as shit). I think I resent the fact that I don't feel that way towards Cindy...She got cards from in-laws, almost-in-laws, friends, coworkers, her kids of course...
I don't see the side of her that everyone else does. Maybe I won't allow myself to...
I think I hate her the majority of the time.
It's true...I hate her for stealing my father's attention.
But I also don't trust her...and maybe a lot of it DOES have to do with my jealousy, but I'm pretty intuitive when it comes to PEOPLE, and I just sense something that's NOT right...
The wedding is nearing...
Speaking of, I am being INCREDIBLY picky when it comes to who I'm gonna bring. I've had numerous offers (I think people just wanna experience a Jew wedding) online and offline...but I'm procrastinating in the decision making process. I still have a couple months.
Blah.
We watched Whiteboys last night. I forgot about that movie. I forgot I had seen it. Funny shit...that dude's face though makes me cringe...I think I had nightmares about him...or just his face..floating around in my subconcious making weird ass facial expressions.
I love the golden girls but I can't watch them talk about their periods. That's one topic of conversation I always try to avoid...and when I see old broads yappin it makes me ill.
We went to the Yellow Rose diner last night for the first time in like 3 years. I forgot about that place. Still the same...fun people to look at...FunNY people to look at too. A nice eclectic mix.
Erin's brother is a mess. There's this kid he's like best friends with...just got in an accident yesterday...the day before actually...one kid died...the other 3 are apparently all fucked up...
It's crazy though. How quickly your life can just END. BAM, an hour prior, you would have NEVER considered you wouldn't be alive in 60 minutes.
59 minutes.
A countdown that you're not even aware of.
I can almost picture an audience...a heavenly audience just watching that last hour happen..as though it's a movie...I wonder what the fuck you think of right before you die...I wonder if this kid even had time to think...I hope he died quickly...car accidents can be messy...his poor family...
Back to Kevin's friend though...I used to drive his ass home from school all the time...good kid, kind of obnoxious, but good kid for the most part...apparently he's got a punctured lung and they removed his spleen and shit...
I have to call Erin..for all I know he's dead right now..or even worse, brain dead or some shit. I need an update...
Middletown always has gruesome car accidents. Like I said yesterday, we lose at least 2 kids a year to them...Always on 35 and 36 too...well, for the most part.
You got Billy Birk who died on New Monmouth...that's right in between....
Anyway, enough of this. I don't even wanna think about it anymore. Whenever this shit happens I get this fucking horrible sense of dread that I will be next...why the fuck not either? I drive like a fucking dick, especially when I'm in a rage...it really makes me watch myself when I'm behind the wheel...at least for a few days..then I'm back to my old ways.
I kinda wanna put my tongue ring back in...I haven't had it in for at least a year. But just NOW, this instant, I missed it..It made me THAT much trashier too..which is the look I'm going for. I wonder if I can pop it back in...the hole probably isn't totally closed. I'm gonna try. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 22nd, 2005|03:15 pm] |
Damn more from Thursday May 19, 2005
I'm tired of car accidents...and people I know being in them. This town is doomed...We lose at least 2 kids a year to local accidents.
Work sucked today. Boring as shit. I'm in a NASTY, whiny mood.
You people and your Star Wars are so fuckin weird.
I can't figure it out.
I still love you though.
I had an awesome session with Mary today. She's the funniest lady ever. Best therapist ever.
I've been doing so well, mentally. Aside from the whole lonliness thing, I've been feeling great...Feelings of lonliness are normal...It has nothing to do with my "depression." Maybe therapy was all the medication I ever needed. I wish I had known that sooner.
I'm gonna go over Sean's with Suzanne and watch White Chicks or some shit. Tonight is such a movie night. Shitty out...cold...damp and miserable.
Or maybe that's just me.
I'm tired of drinking but I crave it. The taste. Which is a sure sign I'm an alcoholic. Seriously. It is. I think I'm craving an ailment. Any ailment. It gives me reason.
Fucked up, right?
That's typical of my mom.
Like mother like daughter. Thanks a fucking lot Ma.
I keep thinking about how much I'm going to miss Carnivale.
:-/
--------------------------------------------------
I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go from here.
Information is thrown at me from every angle.
Raw data
That I need to decipher, by my own terms.
My own illusions.
Seems futile. But I think I have a grasp.
I'm hard on myself, but it's beneficial.
I strive to find truths.
Many truths...
But specifically my own.
Unfortunately I try too hard to find yours...
When you won't even allow yourself to look deep enough..
Under a cloak of defenses and pretensions.
The pain is numbing.
A numbing I have become accustomed to.
The pain I actually enjoy.
It truly does help you move forward...
In your quest, or whatever it is.
A quest by any other name just isn't as important?
I don't know. But I could convince myself of that.
Here's my cause. Here's my declaration.
Choose to ignore me,
But don't ignore yourself.
You don't believe it now, but you're too important to just whither away.
You're too important to me...
I need you for my own selfish reasons.
Just try.
Why do people keep calling me? LEAVE ME THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK ALONE.
If I didn't pick up the first 3 times I am not gonna pick up now....
Christ.
I need to eat something..delicious and gorgeous...round and chalky...before I fucking kill someone.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY
---------------------------------------------------------
I hate when I wake up and miss the dream I was having...I wanna force myself to go back to sleep and let it continue. I've been having "comfort" dreams lately. Everything in them is so comforting, even conflict. Frequent conflict I might add.
I still didn't give Erin back her car. Basically, what I did is....abandoned her and her baby at an apt with no phone, no car and one bottle. The bottle thing is no big deal..she should actually be using a sippy cup now, but regardless, I'm an awful person...It's called laziness. I was up at 9 and could have easily hopped my ass on the parkway and switched cars. But I'll wait till 2, right before I go to work.
Dude there are fucking gremlin stuffed animals all over this house. It's creepy. Cindy's dogs look like gremlins too. Weird motherfucking rat dogs.
I'm so sleepy. I'm tellin you, that damn Soma fucked me up for a few days. Made me all weird and tired. And dude, I broke it in half...Erin actually told me to...Miss Pillhead who swallows 7 pills at a time had me break something in half? That's when you KNOW it's strong.
The temperature in this room right is 66.6
My order at BK the other day was 6.66
What is going on?
I was at a traffic light yesterday in the STRAIGHT LANE..there was this kid behind me, but in the LEFT HAND TURN lane...and there was a broad pulling out of a parking lot, right next to us....I don't know WHAT this dumb bitch was thinking, but I watched her look both ways as she was pulling out, inch out of the lot and then BAM drive DIRECTLY into this poor kid's car...it's not like his car WASN'T directly in front of her...put a nice dent in the side of his shit...
Stupid fucking female drivers. I'm tellin ya, we're BAD.
I need coffee. I'm gonna write an anthem about coffee...Like an ode to coffee type of deal. Ya know? I'm down.
My father was off yesterday...I was off yesterday....he went out on the boat...I didn't. Dumb bitch didn't tell me he was off...he never goes out on the boat without me. We just put it in the water on Sunday too...DAMN HIM!
I have to go douse my insides with hot delicious coffee and then take a shower. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 22nd, 2005|03:13 pm] |
Thursday May 19, 2005(2 entries)
Fuck, I'm kinda drunk and typing on a keyboard I'm not familiar with. I keep making typos. I hate this keyboard.
I have a mud mask on...it's making my eyes water.
Dead Sea mud mask. Heard its supposed to be the shit. We'll ee if I wake up all broken out tomorrow morning.
Punk rock bowling tonight. Lou, if you read this, I DO heart you...no doubt. Cool kid, cool kid.
You're gonna teach me how to Salsa baby. Monday night.
I was craving fried food. Made 3 sausages and a hash brown...Mmmmmm, cured my drunken cravings.
I'm sleepy and I hate this keyboard. It's hard to explain how a keyboard can make a world of difference when all you do is type all day. This shit sucks.
I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you.
Don't forget that. Please. Know that.
If anyone is looking for a roommate in Middletown PLEASE let me know. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. I need to get out of here. This is my own personal HELLHOLE.
The DJ at the bowling alley tonight played a lot of Le Tigre and Adolescents. I loved him for it.
There's a stuffed gremlin in the corner next to me, STARING at me.
Frankly it's freaking me the FUCK out.
I kept buying Boffo drinks tonight. Then he dissapeared. Where did that drunk bastid go? I'm such a sucker.
I still have Erin's car...she's probably pissed...and I'm slightly drunk.
Oh well.
I'm still hungry and Sam is "scratching" at the door like he misses me. I should go downstairs and go to sleep. My poor, lonely fatty bo batty man.
Gooodnight.
I love you.
I miss you.
second
My stepbrother (Howie, not Ivan) who lives in Florida is up here for a few weeks. Remember my stories about their father? The beatings, the mindfucks? Well, Howie was engaged to be married to this GORGEOUS girl...in fact, this girl was beyond gorgeous simply because she seems like a GENUINELY good person. Sweet as hell, but not prissy, always smiling but not phony...I dunno..anyway, *I* would marry her. Howie ended up breaking the engagement...Sounds shitty but it was actually good. He went into therapy because he was so afraid of becoming like his father. He goes to about 3 different therapists a week. The kid never hit anyone or anything but apparently his lifelong fear is becoming not only like his father but like his older brother...Ivan. Mmmhmm..A lot like my fear of becoming a fucking psychopath like my mother. Well. he still talks to Sarah (the PERFECT ex-fiance) but apparently she has HER doubts now...so yada yada yada he's all depressed, he's up here to think shit out...
I've probably only said 4 words to the kid in my life...he's shy and kinda weird..bordering stuck up...That's how he comes across at least...However, for this family...he defines NORMAL. He's probably the most sane of the bunch...which is why he moved his ass down to Florida...Kid makes at least 400k a year...he's 26...he's on his way to that Billionaire's Club.
Anyway, I just walked up the stairs (from my basement retreat) and almost knocked him out with my door. He looked shocked..Not only did he almost get his half naked ass kicked by a door but the towel (the only article of clothing he had on) that was around his waist began to slip down. It was kinda awkward actually..like I said, we never talk...
"Oh hey, sorry, how are you? How was your flight?"
I try so hard to be chipper and cheerful.
"Hey, I'm good, you? Flight was ok."
Mmmhmm. That's probably all we'll say to each other for the next two weeks.
Cindy was so weird the night before he came up...FRANTICALLY cleaning shit around the house like a King was coming...She has a lot of guilt regarding Howie..I'm sure that has a lot to do with it. She must know he resents her, hates his brother and hates NJ.
Fucking crazy ass family.
Now that I bored you all to tears with more gay family shit...
I took half a Soma last night...
SOMA COMA..I didn't even fucking drink. But I passed out. I was tired as shit to begin with but christ. I slept for a full 12 hours.
Blah.
I should be getting my car inspected...but
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK it.
I hate when people IM me as soon as I sign on...or vice versa...
Hint hint....
Thank god I get paid today.
Haha dude, I keep describing things as wicked...like I'm from BAHSTON...Internet boyfriend would be so happy...however, I am SO ashamed. I'm gonna slip internet boyfriend some drugs and tattoo his ass with the state of NJ and a life like portrait of A ROD right next to it.
Whenever something happens to me, people never let me live it down...
Like when I hooked up with a crackhead...I was know as CRACKQUI for a few months...
After I got slipped GHB or whatever it was, I get at least 2 date rape drug jokes a day.
Haaaaaaaah wait till you motherfuckers see what I do to you.
GHB..not to be confused with GBH..what does GBH stand for anyway? It was always fun making shit up...
Great Big Hair
Great Big Homos
Haha that's all I remember.
So, Matt informed me Doublewrapped.com will be up and running...within hours :-O....I better write some kind of "witty musing" quickly. I'm gonna take the laptop down to Sandy Hook..or Atlantic Highlands...and inspire myself there...I have the best time writing shit when I'm OUT somewhere...Shit isn't as boring, makes more sense.
HOLLA.
:-X
I dunno though....If I have to think of something to write, it doesn't work...It almost literally has to FLOW from my brain to my big man-hand fingertips....I was considering doing something with journalism, but I'm not sure I would be able to do that for that exact reason.
Great writers can think and ponder and create masterpieces...
Random bloggers, like myself, just gotta let it flow...and create "witty musings." Haha.
Now I have a mission for the day. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
jerseybroad's journal