Dear Raymi
You’re only ever interesting when you’re naked. And
even then, only a little.

Oh, and a sincere Fuck You for your “Made in USA”

made in usa what?

The stuff you’re selling. Nothing wrong with that
offhand, but the “Made in the USA” banners you have
plastered here and there (to what, cater to brain-dead
nationalist american trash?) wins you that bit of
hostility. Idiot.

fuck you loser
i had nothing to do with that made in america crap
that’s cafepress, not me

i think i overheard the neighbour doing it with a lesbian hooker today that or she was slamming herself against the wall and moaning for no reason other than television being exciting hotness. i put the tv on mute to hear better then i felt lame and pervy but then i felt even more lame because i was watching what a girl wants. what a gaylord.

do not mix dill doritos with ghetto onion dip.

i will be posting pictures later of things that are not very interesting.

on saturday i turned into dance master 3000 and now i have more bruises on my knees. at one point i was trying to do some showgirl style jump in the air and kick out your leg nonsense and my legs went out from under and i fell on my ass. it was great. we were celebrating derelicte’s birthday. it was a surprise party. i blew up ten katrillion balloons and by the end of the nite they were all popped and i of course was drunk and hostile about it and everyone ignored me and kept popping away.

finally bought the new beck cd and it’s awesome despite him being a smelly scientologist et al.

i have been meaning to move out with ward for a long time now but all of a sudden a room has been made available to me for the summer in good ole tdot so i’m taking it and hopefully that will inspire ward to move out of his mom’s place by august.

here is an excerpt from one of my stories that will go along with a bunch of other subpar bedtime stories for manic depressives. enjoy.

I like the crazy girl

I like the crazy girl.

She just moved in next door.

She has black hair and wears dresses that she is too old to be wearing. Dresses my little sister wears to birthday parties with mary janes and white tights.

The crazy girl’s name is Melinda.

I watch her sometimes from my kitchen window when she is in her backyard.

She sings to herself and bounces a ball against the fence and calls to a dog that is never there.

I try to catch her eye when I take out the trash or get the mail and she looks at me coyly and kind of smiles then starts murmuring to herself that makes me realise she hasn’t seen me at all.

I let Ralphy out for a pee and Melinda ran to the fence and leaned over to watch him.

So I went out and stood on the back porch and watched.

Melinda held out her hand and Ralphy licked it and Melinda went hysterical with pleasure. I walked over and patted Ralphy on the head and said hello to Melinda.

She looked at me and said nothing.

Hello Melinda I am Paul. I like your jumper.

Melinda covered her mouth and turned to run but some of her hair got caught on the fence and ripped out of her head. Melinda barely noticed.

The next day there was an envelope taped to the fence where our little meeting was and Melinda’s hair was gone.

There was a poorly drawn picture of a dog on it.

Inside were several drawings of a man on a porch, taking out the garbage, in a car, smoking and also one of the man with a girl on a swing holding hands and cute little hearts floating all around them. The girl was suppose to be Melinda and the man was suppose to be me.

I felt amazing, though, a little bit perverted.

Melinda is special, perhaps we may be close in age but who knows mentally how old she truly is.

I sent Jody over when she got back from school with some candy to make friends with Melinda. An hour later she came back with Melinda and a note from Melinda’s mother.

Dear Sir, my daughter is autistic, please send her home the moment she is out of line. I appreciate the candy. Your Jody is a very sweet girl. -Margaret

Jody gave me a look and rolled her eyes then ran off to her room and slammed the door.

Melinda and I stood in the living room together.

How old are you Melinda?


Melinda, I am 27 years old. I live here with my little sister and my grandmother.


I raised two fingers to represent twenty and then seven.

Melinda nodded and pointed to herself and whispered twenty-four.

She stepped toward me, took my hand and whispered, I am not stupid.

I told her I knew that already and said that I loved how she sang and she blushed.

She sat at the piano and I joined her, side by side, we did not look at one another nor did we say anything for a long time.

I know that you are lonely. She said to me and I nodded.

I know that you want to leave this house and go far, far away.

I know that you want to take me with you.

Melinda turned to me and put her fingers on my mouth and I was finally able to stare deep into her big green eyes that see things I could never hope to see.

This girl lives in a different world, one that I may never enter.

Melinda poked the tips of her fingers into my mouth and dragged them around on my tongue and I let her. Then she played the piano and sang along in some beautiful mumbo-jumbo I had never heard and would probably never hear again.

Then out of nowhere, she stopped.

kiss the girls is a stressful movie to watch. everytime the bad guy is in the scene i yell out ten different ways to kill him and run away. like this one part where the chick is playing the violin and therefore not drugged or cuffed to the chair, the second the dude turned his back i woulda shoved the violin bow right through the back of his neck and then slammed my violin down on his head, fucker!

anyway, i have ketchup chip blisters all over my mouth.

really? ‘cos i have been in a cave for the last several years with my eyes shut and my fingers in my ears.

tonite is survivor. my boobs are pre-menstrual heavy. being sick makes you have chronic bad breath. i just watched some of the heidi fleiss movie. fascinating. how did that actress get her mouth to look all retarded like that and pale. she holds it in a way like there are a million teeth in her mouth.

oh yeah another strange thing cid did during our super fun sleep time was rest his mouth on my fingers and then his teeth.

maybe i should call some existential detectives who investigate coincidences.

i’m sorry, people who liked i heart huckabees are retarded! i can’t get over it, the ones who rave about this movie. I HATE YOU!