last nite i dreamed there were all these different juices to drink and
i was drinking them all and i woke up and told fil about it and he
said that’s a good dream. i dream about being dehydrated a lot. one
time i dreamt i was in pizza hut chugging an entire ghetto pitcher of
ice water.

i hate waking up after those dreams and going all the way to the
fridge and being so tired and thirsty and it’s such a struggle just to
pour water and when you drink it it’s way less satisfying than in your
dream because in the dream you’re like princess strawberry and there’s
beams of light all around you and magical faeries hover and tell you
how amazing you are and everything is lush and beautiful but then you
are awake and your hair is fucked and you’re standing scrawny-legged
in the kitchen with your underwear in your ass and every task is
impossible and you’re like holy fuck water get in my mouth.

my stories are the best.

we didn’t go to see apostle of hustle last nite. i rode around in my
brother’s new car. then rented motorcycle diaries. i helped aimee
bottle wine and felt like a scientist. by the end of the film i
couldn’t read the subtitles anymore because i was slopped and
everything turned japanese and i said ok lets go to bed and went
unconscious immediately.

we’re going to see the french kicks and calla tonite.

i’m reading villa incognito by tom robbins right now. he writes about
these made up animals called tanukis that have big testicles and they
fuck human girls. it’s pretty good.

i smell like dogs. i smell like four dogs. i smell like bad breath.

had band practise last nite then tried to stay up to watch dave chappelle but conked right out just before it came on. amy fisher was on oprah yesterday. her voice sucks. i went to the doctor and she’s all uhhhhhhhhh? so i’m going to have an MRI! oh boy! i had to go to a lab to have my blood taken there because my veins are super tiny and the nurse at the clinic has zero patience for that bullshit.

so i have a bunch of junky bruises which fil made worse by ripping the tape/cotton off for me as a “favor” and it felt like someone ripping all the hairs out of your head simultaneously except it was on your arm and you feel like pissing your pants and swearing in polish because it hurts so much.

so now there’s a big blue line of ugly across my elbow-pit.

i am the morning monster rawwwwwaawwaar!

we might be going to see apostle of hustle again tonite because they’re a-ok. though perhaps not because we’ll have to stand around in the cold in line with people who are too cool to talk to each other.

there’s this one AFV clip of some guy eating an ice cream cone and a big bouncy ball slams him in the face and the ice cream cone explodes all over him and everytime i think about it i start grinning and laughing to myself like some perv watching kids at the park.

“what’s so funny?”

“some guy eating ice cream and a ball flies at him and his ice cream cone and it gets all messy.”

“you’re a fucking loser.”

i dreamed up a bunch of interesting stuff in my sleep but i forget it all now.

my cat is such a fairy.

indiko isn’t working right now. ung. HAS THE WHOLE WORLD GONE CRAZY!?!?!?

it’s funny how a whole bunch of dogs makes you 80 per cent lazier than you already are and you feel like you should be wearing a big ugly sweater with dogs on it that also sings raindrops keep falling on my head deet deet deet and so on.

one of my elementary school teachers had a christmas sweater with a christmas tree on it and it had tiny coloured lights on it that lit up when she pressed this button. i was like cooooooooool but really i was thinking not coooooooool and i asked her how she washed it and i think i made her feel bad. what else is new.

top five things i am good at

being mean
pretending to not be mean
picking my ear
blinking
saying, “don’t harp on my constitution” when someone is nagging me

how about that internet? it’s pretty neat.

i’m gonna be 22 soon.

march 31.

i’m so cool i was born on the ultimate last day of a month. maybe i should write a rap song about THAT!

yo excuse me march thirty one
all you other dates of the year better run
everyone was jealous of me at school
one day shy of bein’ an april fool
so i’m eating some cake with ice cream innit
dude abracadabra bling blang shizzit

biotch!

we’re babysitting the doggies. cid is over too and he has been smacking the crap out of all of them. fil has pointed out that i do not know how to hold dogs properly. i handle them like cats and make them cuddle me and apparently dogs don’t enjoy cuddling like cats do. oh well.

we saw keren ann last nite and when we were at the bar i asked fil what band we were seeing because i forget things and he says uhh we’re not seeing a band, we’re seeing a person. right.

also, something is wrong with my body and i think it’s ‘cos of the crazy pills/booze so i’m going to the doctor tomorrow to get me looked at. it’s hard to explain but not really. i can’t feel properly. i’m tingly numb all over. i can’t sense wetness or temperature, texture, nothing. and it’s making me extra clumsy. last nite i kept struggling to get my foot up on this bench so i could put my elbow on my thigh and kinda lean on it so i could look like i was deep into the music but i couldn’t feel where exactly the bench was with my foot. and then cutting in front of people to get to the front to take this picture:

i bumped into every single person i was attempting to unobtrusively sneak past like a big fatso WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME!??!?!

putting lotion on my face is even hard because my fingers get all jammed in my nose and i scratch my face up. i can’t feel where the dogs are on the bed so i am constantly rearranging my body around them so i don’t kill them all with my legs. i bump into everything i walk by and when i sit down i feel like i am going to fall off of whatever i am sitting on it’s focked mang.

i think this is punishment for making retard jokes, one too many.

Dear Raymilauren,

I don’t link your site because I work for not one but two federal
agencies that block me out of my own blog just for having you URL on
it. If you cared, and I know you don’t.

If it’s any consolation, you probably made some ATC and FCC guys very
happy while they were spying on my internet usage.

I had a dream about you last night, at least, I think it was you. I
was waiting in a long line to see to Hotel Rwanda which I still
haven’t seen yet, and a girl was selling candy like an old-time Camel
Cigarette girl. When I bought a box of chocolates, the girl turned
into a queen with a crown and everything, and she looked just like you
on one of your latest posts.

The chocolate wrapper said, bittersweet, but when I opened it, it was
white. And in the shape of a heart.

So I think of you as more sweet than bitter, and with a soft white heart.

see you around,

Sierra (Radiohumper)

we saw constantine and it was actually very good despite worrying that keanu would be 100 million per cent annoying. i asked this short dude with a leather jacket and a pink tie if he could SHUT UP and then he/they did and i felt like a mean bitch but also victorious and a few people snickered when i said it so i was like the belle of the ball of the movie theatre. then we went to a bar and played megatouch and this one loser fuckmunch said libarian instead of librarian.

ME!

i explained the entire plot of die another day to scott because he had not seen it and so it was basically my blog post from yesterday but more ridiculous and i think this couple was listening in on what i was saying and judging me. i would. hearing other people talk no matter what they are talking about makes you think you are better than they are and you think of stupid justifications of how and why you are better. and the fact that i am explaining a shitty movie as loud as i possibly can or so it seemed because the place was dead empty and the bartender was watching the apprentice with some old whiskery barfly and then the couple left and it felt like we were a major inconvenience what with my crappy account of die another day… “and then, uhh, and then, ok they’re in a helicopter…bla bla…” and scott’s phone rings and he talks ten times louder than a megaphone so the old guy and bartender and bartender’s friend are shooting fuck you looks at scott and i am trying to shush him and then he says faggot real loud into the phone.

then we are elsewhere and dude comes by and brings us all the drinks in the world and says he fucked holly mcnarland. twice. he was her roadie. i was too wasted to bother considering whether or not this was true and the more i think about it the funnier it is.

he said he was meaning to be our friends for a very long time ‘cos i once said i was socially inept and this was months and months and months ago and it was just some bullshit small talk but i guess it’s an effective line.

i made the mistake of saying i was socially awkward when i lived in nyc to this one fat guy who was in the social circle of our peeps and so at every roof party and bbq he would beeline towards me and go “so how is that socially awkwardness working for ya?” every fucking party. and even when i was talking to people, someone i had just met, this guy would appear out of nowhere and say the line to me and then walk away.

who are you martin from the simpsons?

he also had a t-shirt that said “second place” on it.