I Have a Life, And I'm Living It, Because No One Else Is
I thought I was.
I'm still somewhere between 111 and 114 lbs (but never 110 or 115).
I strap on my ear-goggles and I'm ready to go,... cuz you can't, you won't and you don't stop
I'm in the process of eating six slices of bacon right now.
Speaking of little piggies, though, I managed to fuck up my pinky toe yesterday by dropping a can of biscuits on it.
Ain't that some shit?
Reminds me of the story behind the tiny scar on the middle toe of my left foot.
I was three years old, and Ma had sent me and my sister to get our toys - big-wheels and the like - out of the yard.
It was after dark, I was in a night-gown, and since my sister was 8, and she was letting her do all the work.
I was singing "Beat It" at the top of my lungs and keeping rhythm with a metal, folding, camping-stool deal.
In no time I "just beat it" right onto my foot and I exploded in tears and the darkest blood I had ever seen streamed across the cement.
Mama carried me into the bathtub and I continued to wail at the sight of so much bleeding.
It wasn't until years later that I told Mama what I'd been doing. She just thought her stupid toddler was clumsy. She didn't know I was rocking out.
I was embarrassed, though, and in a lot of pain, which is why I didn't explain things to her at the time. And since I was three I forgot to mention it the next day.
Embarrassed, though, because I wasn't supposed to know things like Michael Jackson (bad cousins!) and because I wasn't doing my job.
I think I'll watch home-movies the next time I go home.
sleep on the left side, keep the sword-hand free
Dad called me yesterday, finally, but I was in the grocery store and though we talked for twenty minutes or so, I really wanted to have a nice long conversation with someone before I went to sleep last night.
I think I'm homesick.
No body was home.
I. Can't. Find. Tylere.
she had a stroke at the age of 24; it could have been a brilliant career
My bosses are leaving for Germany on my birthday. To go to an anniversary party.
"Happy Birthday, Michaela! Have fun with the kids! Don't party too hard!"
I'll call Grandma and Grandpa up from Nuttley, NJ and then I'll let you guys do something special for me.
I'm holding my breath for scanzilla to take me to see David Lee Roth for my birthday. I'm also holding my breath because he likes me a little hyperventilated when he snorts cocaine off of my naked ass, just so long as I don't die, like the Chinese hookers did.
I can't fix what I don't know I broke, the sticks are woven in the spokes
I know a good many Geminis up here, oddly enough, since I only know about seven people. Maybe we'll have a Twins Celebration.
We'll drink Dos Equis.
My Velouria! Even I ado-o-ore ya! My Velouria-ah-ah-ah-ah!!
Why didn't someone tell me my hair is getting grayer by the hour?
I must color it soon.
Hmmmm.
Should I have some fun?
Professional?
All I do is take care of kids and then I'm going to school... so could I do a lavendar?
Like an Anime girl?
Suggestions?
let your guard down, and let the liquor in
