i found a recipe for butter chicken from the internet yesterday so instead of going into toronto to make trouble and whore myself out to booze i decided to get a nice bottle of wine and be domesticated with fil instead. when fil got back from work he was in his typical annoy the fuck out of raymi mood wherein i say something and he repeats it back at me with attitude and says YOU..bla bla bla. for example:

raymi: come on lets go to the supermarket

fil: YOU go to the supermarket

raymi: i have the list

fil: YOU have the list

raymi: i KNOW i have the list that’s what I SAID

fil: that’s what YOU said

and then he plays the asking pointless questions game.

fil: what’s that man doing? why is that woman carrying a bag? what does that sign mean? why is that man looking at us? why is that dog white? why is that guy wearing a hat?

raymi: WHY DO I WANT TO THROW MYSELF INTO TRAFFIC!??!

anyway, the food turned out wonderfully and then we watched road house. i’ve seen it a million times before but still it is the greatest film, it’s suppose to be all serious and shit but everything is just silly. oh and there’s a bunch of nudity and shitty fight scenes and jeff healey.

k bye.

hahahhahahaa.

i am- Jesus Martinez – Tell your Dad says:

slut

i am- Jesus Martinez – Tell your Dad says:

scunt

raymi says:

you are mean

the new sigur ros video is the most beautiful thing i know of right now. watch the whole thing.

anyway, i fed the cat because i am a sucker and now i have to go buy more tampons. the guys at the variety store must think i am on my period 365 days of the year.

the cat is no longer allowed to be a pickle. now he is a stupid fucking bastard because he sunk his teeth into my right foot and then tried to cuddle with me and get me to feed him.

fuck you.

starve.

i ask the cat if he is a pickle at least thirty times a day and he never tells me what the answer is.

i have hundreds of nicknames for him and fil hates them all especially the newest one which is : Bu-doos. and i say it in a retarded old lady voice.

it felt like my ovaries were exploding from the inside out for awhile there but after several advils and vodka perriers i feel right as rain writing and writing my little story about depression and alcoholism and neurosis. i made this expired pizza and it fell apart and the dough just wouldn’t cook and i wasted half a thing of goat cheese on it too.

we saw mr and mrs smith the other day and it is half terrible and i have never been so fucking annoyed before in a movie theatre and that’s saying a lot because i am always annoyed to all fuck in movie theatres. this time a couple of fat kids kept going for soda refills and throughout the entire film you could hear one asshole eating popcorn and crinkling his bag like dude you figure 30 minutes into the movie people are done eating BUT NO this fucker is crinkling and chewing as loud as he can the entire fucking time. i kept fantasizing about different bitchy things to yell at him. ok i was seriously annoyed by him and i was maybe 6 rows away, you’d think everyone surrounding him would say something or at least make “i am annoyed right now at you” groans or something. if i was sitting beside him i would have leaned over and been all psss psss dude CAN YOU SHUT THE MOTHER FUCKING EFF UP OR AT LEAST CHEW QUIETLY AND PUT A HANDFUL OF POPCORN IN YOUR HANDS SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO CRINKLE AND RUSTLE THE BAG EVERYTIME YOU GO FOR MORE LIKE HOLY SHIT DUDE YOU MAKE ME WANT TO PUT CHLORINE IN MY EYES AND RIP ALL MY HAIR OUT ONE STRAND AT A TIME AND THEN GET HIT BY THREE TRANSPORT TRUCKS AND THEN WALK THROUGH FIRE AND BROKEN GLASS NAKED IN FRONT OF MY ENTIRE FAMILY!!!

and so on.

why the hell do they offer the loudest snack food at movie theatres anyway? why don’t they give people bubble wrap while they’re at it and maybe some pop rocks and hand grenades.

everytime these fat kids got up to leave their chairs made that loud clank clank swinging motion noise.

one of these days i’m gonna go postal, i just know it.

i fucking know it.

this is quite funny.