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.

i wrote here today.

so i’m like “boring lately”

dude,

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.

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?

here is a poem

the woman down the hall
her name is sue
she is a dyke
why are all dyke’s named sue?

video of me as a skinny sketchbag.

sodasamson says:

are you drunk?

raymi says:

no

raymi says:

why

raymi says:

i wish

when you can’t remember what my url is never fear just type in girl that look so sexy that a person want to fuck and there i am!

if that’s too many words for you to type or remember then just google farting girl and i am second on the list.