probably the scariest most craziest woman in the universe. scroll down a bit and watch the video. holy crap i have to watch it again.

and oh yes, it is tony‘s birthday this saturday. i say this now because i drink a lot and tend to space out on dates and stuff. so yeh. happy birthday you old pile of fuck.

Sometimes when you are depressed and a drunk you feel like every sentence you put down is the same sentence, every word is also the same and every paragraph too. When you don’t work on the story for awhile and then eventually come back to it you have to skim through it all over again and be like did I write that part yet? Did I complain about such and such?

This is when you are like fuck it, it doesn’t really matter because this entire thing is bullshit anyway.

Being insanely self-critical and somewhat of a perfectionist about your writing and your personal story in general combined with booze and sadness equals NEVER GOING TO GET PUBLISHED NEVER GOING TO FINISH IT NEVER GOING TO NEVER NEVER NEVER.

i’m getting sick.

of all one hundred thousand tea bags here, not one, contains caffeine.

this angers me.

some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind the couch
for 3 or 4 days.
they’ll find me there.
it’s Cherub, they’ll say, and
they pour wine down my throat
rub my chest
sprinkle me with oils.
then, I’ll rise with a roar,
rant, rage -
curse them and the universe
as I send them scattering over the
lawn.
I’ll feel much better,
sit down to toast and eggs,
hum a little tune,
suddenly become as lovable as a
pink
overfed whale.
some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must lead.

i think i finally found my true calling in life.

email from my mum.

Did you and Phil say I need new winter tires. Will you all buy me some? I could die in a snow storm and then who would you have to torment?

my new obsession is spying on women who knit things and discuss knitting sweaters for their babies and tiny little knitted wombs.

ok well i think that i’ve done all my chores and obligations for today so now i’m going to hit that left over wine and watch closer and pretend that i am witty like clive owen. oh and i am also having a good hair day today.

and all the tattoo girls at the coffeeshop hate me because they are three feet tall and i am an amazon and i always pay in nickels and dimes and i always ALWAYS always look fucked up. and they all have crushes on fil and i am his evil witch girlfriend.

NYUH nyuh NYuHHHHHHHHHHHH!