this guy was talking like crazy last nite during calla so we had to go stand somewhere else and this other drunkus malunkus was bragging about some guy named ray, some guy who lives in florida and come to think of it i think i actually know who he was talking about. fuck. anyway. it was a good show and fil got hisself a home-made hip hop cd for ten bucks, some jorgy porgy whatever. then we fought over a porkchop and ate salads and i was lying on the couch half asleep trying to get the salad into my mouth.
look at that drunk fat slob who i am pretending to be friends with so she will show us her boobs so we can take pictures and put them on the internet and i’m all yo baby yo baby yo!
so got my hair done and there was this catholic woman there who was also a bigot and claimed that she and her friends are considered the “yummy mummies” in town and i told her that religion is a crutch and she said black people are lazy and we were created different for a reason so races shouldn’t mix. she just wouldn’t shut up about her extremely rich trinidadian upbringing she was such a classist ignorant yuppie and there was nothing yummy about her. i was so fucking mad i just kept my mouth shut the entire time.
she said she couldn’t believe people who have no faith and how they could cope at funerals thinking that their lost loved one might not be in a better place.
you know what bitch, it’s called being realistic. when you’re dead, you’re fucking DEAD and your magical soul is DEAD TOO. there is no heaven there is no hell, fuck you, shut up. there is no such other being bigger than us who created us and is watching over us and helping us pfffft. life isn’t a disney movie. we don’t hang out in the clouds when we’re dead. your dead grandma can’t see you right now dude, she’s gone city and going to some building one day a week isn’t going to make you a better person.
the sabbath is a sham and the other six days are just mind control.
then she had the nerve to say oh when i was younger i was anti-religion too and since your grandfather was an athiest i hope he didn’t have a religious funeral. he didn’t but who the fuck is she to ask.
tomorrow i’m having my roots done finally and i am going to demand all of the platinum in the universe so my dark eyebrows can stand out more than they already do and i will never ever wash my hair again because it will be dryer than hay and i can put it in different arty arrangements and people will go excuse me eccentric person coming through, no wait, i will be the one saying that to them.
if my hair was black i would probably win the lottery.
i walked to the supermarket with a stupid hat on and an even gayer scarf and these terminator sunglasses and i looked like a penishead loser and every step of the way there i thought about how if i saw me walking to the supermarket from my car i’d be like, you are gay and be pointing.
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.”
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
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.
