I was by the fridge in the kitchen when it happened.
The phone on the wall next to the fridge rang, and so I went to pick it up when suddenly the ice maker began spontaneously chugging out cubes and I thought that was odd. Then a cupboard door opened by itself, revealing the dishes inside–and then the power in the overhead light surged. The game show playing on the countertop TV then suddenly stopped and the screen displayed color bars with a piercing tone and then for maybe a second there was a TV news anchorman with a map of Iceland on the screen behind him. I said “hello” into the phone, but it went silent and then the flash hit. A plastic Simpsons cup from Burger King melted sideways on the counter; the black plastic frame of the TV softened its edges and began dissolving. I looked at my hand and saw that the telephone was turning to mud in my palm, and I saw a bit of skin rip off like strips of chicken fajita. And then the pulse occurred. The kitchen window blew inward, all bright and sparkling, like tinsel on a Christmas tree, and the blender crashed into the wall and the Post-it notes on the fridge ignited and then I was dead.
just watched the best movie ever. a love song for bobby long. watch the trailer here. it doesn’t exactly do it justice. fuck i actually feel like writing now. rent it, VOD it, whatever. just see it.
a couple came by to look at the apartment and fil forgot to call and give me a 15 minute heads-up so i showed it to them with black eye make-up halfway down my face and crazzy hair and bad breath, oh well. not to mention ten million empty beer and wine bottles stacked high in the corner of the kitchen. then the chick asks to look in the fridge, great. nothing but condiments, tallboys and martini cocktail something-or-others and left-over chicken wings.
and now i am awake.
i should totally be dreaming about grade 5 right now and fluorescent running shoes and waterslides.
i want to join/start a movie club for old ladies and we will only watch fluff movies like before sunset and disney movies starring eddie murphy and we will get together once a week and one day out of the blue i’ll stand up during our discussion circle and talk a whole lot of shit about everything we have ever viewed until they’ll be all, “well, i never…” and i’ll be like WHAT?! YOU NEVER SAW A GOOD MOVIE IN YO’ LIFE BEEEE-ITCH! THAT’S RIIIGHT! THIS CLUB IS OVER!
then i’ll go snap snap snap with my fingers in the letter ‘z’ in the air and violently flip a plastic chair over.
these are the things i think about in the bath.
deep down i love shitty movies. and music. and tv shows.
awkward crapping moments. love ‘em. especially when you’re at someone’s house you have never visitted before and the bathroom is right by the kitchen where everyone happens to be and there isn’t a fan to create white noise distraction so then you hold in your number two for hours and hours and have to stick your ass outside the front door sneakily to let out your stress farts.
i am not fancy enough to go with fil to look at the new place. it’s cos i have a staple in my lip, he thinks it will fuck everything up. it probably would and i would probably say the wrong thing and wear the wrong thing and scowl and show up with twigs and leaves in my hair and puke on my collar, right? yep. it’s a very yuppie-type place we’re gunning for so i should probably wait in the car, down the street…. five blocks over, or just stay home and eat mud.
on another note, i puked myself awesome last nite! YES! ME!
also, i am tired of looking like i just came back from a botox party.
samir was in a motorcycle accident. go laugh at him.
