i am the cat whisperer.

i just watched another terrible movie. monster-in-law.

i wish my job was recording commentary on dvds. i’d be all, “this is the scene that is NOT FUNNY.”

“this is the part that you can fast forward through.”

“this movie was fine the first time around when it was called meet the parents.”

et set urr uh

while waiting for samir to show up at the stem two major hipsters walked in and sat in the boothe across from mine and i was like fuck it’s so early, who knew hipsters existed at this hour.

samir and i went to see domino yesterday at the paramount and it is easily THE WORST film ever made. it just, i couldn’t fucking believe it, it just wouldn’t end! every cliche you can think of they put in that fucking movie. the guys from 90210 are innit and you do get to see kira naked so whatever, it’s a good movie to blow off steam to but afterwards you are like, what the fuck was that?

then i ate the best goat cheese and red pepper wrap at cadillac lounge and screamed at samir, “i just canNOT talk to you.” cos he was in a bad mood and was hating on everything though it was kinda funny.

that's bizo

that’s me and bizo. bizo is samir‘s cat. i crapped twice today and it was like explosive. we ate breakfast at the stem and our waitress was daft and i asked for sour cream 4 times and there wasn’t any and i knew that she knew that there wasn’t any but did she tell me? nooooooooooooo she did not.

i got angry.

i’ve been up since 5:30. terrible sleep last nite.

fil and i watched the fellowship of the ring for the 50th time because it is magical.
what the hell should i be for halloween, please help me decide. some kind of inanimate object.

don’t forget to come see me at the gladstone this sunday for canzine i hope i am dressed like a ninja. some guy is coming all the way from savannah just to see me there so you fuckers in tdot who get lazy and don’t come out like, zero excuses. plus noel will be there with five hundred ‘zines and there’s some sort of burlesque show happening. it goes from 1-7pm.

so i’m like “boring lately”


i’m a friggin’ alcoholic therefore unreliable in the not boring department.

if i am inspired to write or be mean here and there it’s a miracle.

what do i get out of this blog other than grief and unhealthy compulsions and nasty comments on a regular basis. i’m not getting paid, i don’t have a mansion and servants.

if i want to talk about knitting sweaters and playing megatouch that’s my fucking business. if i want to feel ugly and not have pictures of my tits and dicks in my mouth for months on end then deal with it.

if i post ten hours of msn conversations of stuff that i say that i think is funny, deal with it.

you wouldn’t go up to some person on the street and say to their face that they’re boring or make fun of how they look, you’d sneak off home and comment anonymously on their blog.

i can’t wait to someday somehow meet one of you anonymous people and, you know, punch you in the face.

cos i’m fucking stupid like that, i don’t give a fuck.

mum if you comment one more time on my blog i’m taking down comments. i’d ban you but your ip changes everytime you go online.

jana made me that shirt.

she doesn’t want to be happy.

everybody wants to be happy.

depressives don’t.

they want to be unhappy to confirm they’re depressed.

if they were happy they couldn’t be depressed anymore, they’d have to go out in the world and live which can be depressing.

anna’s not a depressive.

isn’t she?