it’s the part in the relationship where you just sit back in different rooms and let shit happen on its own or you check on each other every 5 minutes and then some guy calls you a cracka and you are like do you mean honky or crackhead and he says both and he is on steroids and you are like Whaaaaaat mother effer? and he’s like your bangs your bangs and his friends step away and won’t back him anymore kuz they realise he said the wrong fucking thing and there is no saving his ass and then he fucks with yer bf not 5 minutes later not knowing we’re together and well, i hope he likes wheelchairs.
If you do a cover of a Morrissey song of your choice, and put it on your blog I will mail you a photograph of mine that you can either keep or sell ( they go for a pretty penny these days).
I was hanging out in the Rodeo bar on 3rd avenue last week, started talking to a complete stranger and then all of a sudden your blog & you in general came up. Me and stranger both agreed that you are one of our most favorite people in the whole universe.
im pissed off the gary busey show isnt on til 7 30. guh. oh well. the wb shitty singers show is on and i love it love it. i coulda been one right? right. i hope tonite isnt boring. i hope my tan evens out. i hope my room gets magically clean on its own.
if i were a day of the week i’d be wednesday.
if i were a bird i’d be a hawk.
if i were a member of the cat family i’d be a cheeta. no puma. no panther. whichever one is the sexiest and moves in the slowest of motion.
if i were a band i’d be lush.
if i were a color i would be red.
if i were a toy i’d be a play-doh fun factory – this one i use to have as a kid that made play-doh ice creams and sundaes and wavy french fries and hamburgers and i remember my mum sitting on the livingroom floor with me, showing how to mix brown and white into flesh tone color for pretend hamburger buns.
if i were a dog i would be a miniature doberman pinscher.
if i were a book i’d be generation x, by douglas coupland.
if i were a country i’d be england.
if i were cake i’d be caramel crunch. it costs 20 dollars and my friend ward almost sat on one i bought for this tropical drink blending party of steve’s and i almost died of rage at him.
if i were clothing i’d be a scarf that is orange.
if i were a condiment i’d be ketchup. tho that’s pretty boring. maybe i’d be sauerkraut (sp?). but only this time not frozen with icicles outside of systems and gross bacon bits.
if i were a movie i’d be casino. fuck. man that opening scene with sharon stone where she throws up the guy’s chips in that glitzy white dress of hers and hair is up valley of the dolls style and deniro sees her, falls in love immediately even tho she is stirring up shit in his casino. also similar to the scene in trainspotting where renton falls in love with diane upon seeing her rudely drink both drinks of dude’s across the way by the bar.
if i were a gun i’d be a silencer pp7 that sexy sexy bitch. though the automatic weapons in goldeneye 007 for n64 are better. for example, the RCpm?90? whatever it’s called that shoots fat-ass lasers, super-ass fast at yer opponent’s head like mental and comes out the other side. the best is shooting the crap out of ‘em when they are already dead. the shotgun is pretty boss too.
if i were a song i’d be all of them. but especially that kanye west all falls down one. where’s that cd jonafran?
i had this teacher mrs brown for senior kindergarden and she was the evilest evil with cokebottle glasses and hair the color of brown owls and bowl cut bangs. she kicked some kid in the head the time i made it to grade one and was fired from teaching. banished. and good. she made me shiver. the type of woman you look at and you KNOW she will slap you on your mouth if you do something wrong, if you were her own child. ont time christina puked all over the water fountain and mrs brown is all why aren’t you drinking from the fountain and me and jonathan are like uhh theres puke on it and shes like it’s fine see i’ll drink from it and then she did drink from it because she’s a crazy lady from where crazy ladies come from and cut their hair ugly because that is how they feel on the inside, nothing but ugly. she shook me pretty roughly by the shoulders when she thought i was some other kid she was in the mood to reprimand then realised i wasnt the kid and she dropped me to the floor. fucking witch.
he screamed at me in the adult store on yonge like i was his bitch go wait in the car! it was all a joke and i couldn’t take it seriously because it was just comical and the storeclerks were like woah. we bought a butt plug and a red rocket vibedill and lube and a cockring (which we lost immediately, the cockring) i told him to kneel on the floor while i punched him a bit and called him foul names. he went back to the car to look for the cockring in his underwear and his neighbour saw, this girl, awesome. there wasn’t much of a spark between us at all tho he was awfully hot, thee hottest but too much of a playboy for me. he said this one girl could only cum if/when he shoved his fist in her mouth. we met once for lunch and went into the porn booths and did it and i had to go back to work with wobbly knees and a pungent pussy. we also fucked on his desk too in his office and he smooshed my naked body against the window for the world to see on a saturday afternoon, this is all before we went to the adult store. he almost perished in a near-fatal motorcycle accident. shizer.
