And I was all... and then she goes...and I was like...

I'm going to update my audio clip in my profile regularly. For those who listen to it. The problem is that it starts playing before it loads completely, so you have to hit play again or pause it for a second or two and hit play again. Ah, the little annoying trivialities in life.

I need me a big ol' fatty-J right about now. If you know what I'm saying. And even if you don't, frankly. I'll still need one regardless of whether or not you know what I'm saying. Do you know what I'm saying? Or no. Because it's really important for me to know. Ya know?

I know, I know.

Not that I have anything to do with big fatty-Js or anything. Hey, you guys know the (relevent to the subject) Sublime song? Yeah.

"She was living in a single room with three other individuals. One of them was a male, and the other two... well the other two were females. God only knows what they were up to in there."

Weekly? Daily? Monthy? A fucking quote already.

Every time you vote Republican, God kills a kitten.

[vol. 3]

andanotherthing or two:

When I make an obscure movie reference, and someone else in the room gets it. Love that. Like if I said "Damn, it feels good to be a gansta" and someone goes, "oh I love that movie."

Hot chips and salsa you get at the good Mexican place.
People playing with my hair.

Taking a bubble bath with my iPod hooked up to my speaks (good acoustics for my tra la laah-ing).

When really spiffy people comment on my blog that live kinda near where I used to live (hi guys).

Brits calling body parts "bits."
Bits in general. heh. heh heh.

Weird Things Me Likey [vol. 2]

Mmm corn chex. Can I get an 'amen?'
The smell of the air before/after rain or snow.
Really good hard rock.
Really good hard sex.
Mozart.
Capt'n Crunch! (Okay I'm a cereal junkie and eat it twice a day sometimes).
Men.
Hot showers and fluffy bath towels.
Running around my apartment naked as a jaybird. Singing. With a bowl of Capt'n Crunch. LOL

Weird Things Me Likey

Okay how's this for freakyweird. I like that sound the checkbook makes when you rip a check out of it. And if you notice, it's usually three sections as the person moves their hand along to rip further down. Trrr trrrttr ttrtrrtrr. Or something in that general vicinity. But anyway I like it.

Okay so I notice the things people never notice. I see it as an opportunity for unanounced enjoyment. Humph.

Why do I have Cat Scratch Fever in my head? Hmm lemme think.
Perhaps because I was on this particular blog where a particular Doctor by the name of Clooney explained why a person may have night sweats in a helpful and striped-glove wearing doctor's appointment. But I digress. Aaah to read the banter of someone with a brain and a sense of humor. There is life out there!

I also like the sound of my boots on the sidewalk. I have these leathHOLY CRAP I just heard what sounded like a gunshot. Wow that scared the bajeezus out of me. Going to go check that out now. There it goes again. . .

K it's five o'clock now. I never did figure out what that gunshot sound was. I guess it could be... oh, say... a gunshot, perhaps? Nah. Probably fireworks. In November. For No Reason. In The Afternoon.

Okay so it was a gunshot.

I suppose I've clacked away on here long enough. Off to frolick amongst the faeries.

Oh, and I'm thinking about posting a Quote Of The Day, because I have a collection of bitchin' quotes. And possibly taking them from readers and posting them. Or something. Haven't worked out the details yet.

Confession:

The Lights Are On... But You're Not Home... Your Mind... Is Not Your Own...Your Heart Sweats... etc.

I Might As Well Face It I'm Addicted to Blogs. Not my blog, other people's. I hit that little 'next blog' button and lose track of time. There are a couple in particular that I return to a lot. Wow, it would be cool to be someone else's To Be Returned To blog. Of course, in order to achieve said status, I'd have to write something interesting, rather than my daily trials with my neighbors and the crazy caller guy. Hmm.
Anyway, there's this one in particular that I go to all the time that is an audblog, and the girl is like... me. Her voice is exactly like my voice, and her way of speaking is like mine. Little details that I know I do all the time. It was really creepy the first time I hit the little triangle 'play' button - I had no idea that I was about to hear myself saying worlds I'd never said.
I remember my first couple years out of high school, I must have gone through this phase where I looked like a million other people, because on a seeminly daily basis, someone would tell me I look exactly like someone else they know, and tell me how closely I resemble them and how weird it is. I learned to just smile and nod, not having ever seen them before in my life.
Do you suppose there are Other Us people running around living oddly similar lives? I think it's a definite possiblity. I've only seen myself twice, though. I looked up once at the grocery store and saw myself walking down the aisle in front of me. It was FREAKY. She was even dressed like I do (not that it's uncommon, but still).
Sometimes I wonder if my friend-equivalent to a soul-mate is lingering just inside my 'six degrees' and if I go to a certain place unplanned one day, there they will be. It'll be like we knew each other all along, and conversation would be easy.
I don't know. Stranger things have happened.

Dooodlydooo I'm off to cook some form of sustenance... tra la laaa

freewrite

I remember waaay WAAAY back when I was in high school (sigh) and my creative writing teachers had us do this free-write thing. I loved doing it. And when I'm trying to get my creative mojo on 'go' I use that technique. Sometimes it works and sometimes it just makes me want to rip up the paper. Here goes, and I'll type as fast as I can (sorry in advance for the typos):

You know if you think about it typing is like letting your fingers trip. Like they are tripping along and the keys are the roughly textured concrete, probably burning in the summer sun with my luck. I always did that as a kid - stubbed my toe by the pool and the end of my toe bled and it hurt like a motherfucker when I jumped back into the water. That's funny now that I'm older and wiser that I was getting in the pool with an owee that may have been bleeding. That's like... illegal in terms of consideration for others. Hey there's another issue I have with people - them not giving a flip flying fuck about anyone but themselves and not having REAL feeling inside themselves about anything, much less anybody. I actually feel a lot of sympathy for those type people because they'll never know a real relationship because real doesn't have to do with one person. It's the interaction between them. I know a couple people that are only in relationships that have some benefit to them in some way. That's disgusting. Man I'm hungry. Would love a caramello. That sounds good, all that ooey gooey caramel running all over the place. Isn't it weird how you crave shit? Especially us women. We're notorious. It's fun, though. Out of the blue I'll really want some pumpkin pie. Shit phone ringin wonder if that dude

Nope. Shit. Now I can't get my flow back. Oh, well. I suppose I'm off to go work on my painting. I've been working on it for two weeks, and it's not going in the direction it's supposed to go. Perhaps it'll be better for it.

Is There Anyone Out There?

Hello Reader. I was wondering when you were going to show up. Would you mind posting a short hello in the comments section? I'm curious if anyone is seeing this as the days go by.

I've started writing a short story. I do believe my schitzo neighbors will supply me with all the plotlines I could ever want. The woman, The Nagger. Now she's accusing Mr. LazyAss of flirting with my other neighbor, this cute girl downstairs that I believe is like... latin or something. She's really nice, and I get why it would seem like he was flirting, but frankly I don't see it happening. But all it takes is the suspicion to cause an uproar.

All the stomping is about to piss me off, though. I'd much rather hear the moans and groans than the accusatory sarcasm all fucking night. She comes off as such a bitch on her good days, much less when she's up to her crow's feet in bitchness. Must all the surrounding apartments share in the misery? I guess it's good blog fodder.

And now I'm getting these bizarro phone calls at all hours from some guy in my zipcode. I looked up the number on gooooogle, and it shows his name and address. I don't know him. He never says anything. I usually let it go to voicemail, and of course he hangs up after it beeps (agh), and if I DO happen to pick it up, he hangs up before I can tell him to fuck off. I don't get it.

Irony... phone....

Just my sister. Damn. I was getting all geared up to give the stalker dude a piece of my mind.

Don't Assume

Not all women are the type that don't like sex. Some of us want laid. A lot.

And you know what else? Some of us don't want 'lovemaking.' Some of us want bent over and f*cked.

Well. Now that I got that off my chest.

Saw a nasty fight between my neighbors. Again. Or should I say 'heard' a nasty fight. Funny thing about apartments... they have paper-thin walls. First there's a raised voice, then silence for a few seconds. Then another raised voice, and then some stomping and banging. Then colorful words fly back and forth. Luckily I think they are non-violent. Emotionally abusive and all that jazz. So he's completely incapable of picking up his beer cans and she's a nagging bitch that is "wound tighter than a fucking clock." On and on. It's kind of interesting sometimes, though.

And the thing is is she's a total bitch to me. I'll pass her in the breezeway and she's like... holier than thou. And he's hot, so what's up with that? I mean that kind of hot where after they walk past and smile a hello, you find yourself releasing a little whimper. Or is that just me? Well anyway. He's hot, she's a bitch. So common it seems.

I need to go shopping. My fridge has some cheese, a grapefruit, and milk. A girl can't live on saltines, apparently.

Ugh.

You know how when you get sick your face feels like a sweltering-hot swollen thing stuck to the front of your head? And you've gone through so many Kleenexes that your nose feels like a big open wound?

Um, yeah. That's pretty much where I'm at right now.

I was driving down the road feeling like a Sudafed commercial, probably the one where the dude is a giant nose. And then I ran over an innocent leaf.
That leaf never did any harm in this world. Just an innocent thing floating around in the November breezes and *BAM* I ran right over it. How thoughtless.

good grief

Ever have one of those days where concentrating is as impossible as flight? My mind is simply refusing to stay in one place for more than 30 seconds.

*DING* times up. Off to something else.

Can't Wait for '08

Yeah so I'm trying to overcome feelings of anger. I've had a recent loss of adoration for my fellow Americans.

"I'm sorry Gay Person. In this world that is so full of HATRED and violence, I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to allow you to express your LOVE because, well, it's just not the type *I* happen to believe in. I've not experienced it, therefore it's not valid. Your request for treatment with decency has been denied. Have a nice day."

It Is Bullshit.

To any gay, bi, transgendered, or otherwise person reading this right now, please don't feel that just because such amendments passed so overwhelmingly, that all of straight America feels that way.