new favorite karaoke write-up.

i’m fucking off on the family today for my nana’s birthday because i don’t want to go to no damn casino no more. one of the very first times that my brother dragged me to a casino, i swore at this woman for taking one of my machines and she threatened to have me kicked out so i gave her way more attitude and sat there playing the machine all the while she sassed me to her friend and i kept mumbling rude things under my breath the entire time because it was a matter of pride and i was in the right. but it was ok because she lost a lot of coins to that machine and everytime she pressed the button and nothing happened in her favor i was thinking ha ha ha in my head like a mean teenager.

people get very emotional about gambling and when other people get emotional, i too get emotional for the sake of getting emotional and then i start swearing at old ladies.

so i am not in the mood for that today and i called my nana friday nite and said my happy birthday hello speech and so on and not like they will miss me anyway not unless i was a plastic bucket of coins or i was a slot machine.

i think my brother is ditching also though last minute my mum will probably convince him to go and he’ll go and then i’ll look even more of an asshole.

le sigh.

well, the way i see it i am doing everyone a favor in not going because if i go i’ll want to drink and i will whine and complain about it and be moody and the drinks are expensive there and i’ll feel like i am in casino wal-mart hell.

me drunk and not attractive-looking. i feel like i have let my “sexy” self go photograph-wise and i prefer looking stupid in pictures like ha ha those blog reader boner guys want sexy raymi and now look what they have to look at pfffffffft.

anyway.

i never liked sundays.

i do not like wal-mart anymore.

we went there tonite to go to the mcdonald’s because finding neverland was sold out so we had to eat garbage to get over our sadness.

anyway, the female’s restroom totally depressed me. there was piss on every toilet seat. a lot of fucking piss. and some blood even. and there wasn’t any toilet paper either.

all the mcdonald’s employess were total loafters with their cellfones in their hands like annoying 16 year olds talking about marijuana and all these dumb street fights that never happened and they fucked up our order and my double cheeseburger was made all wrong.

i don’t like feeling like i am the prettiest girl on the planet when i go places and i usually end up feeling that way when i go to wal-mart and fuck you for being shocked by reading this because you feel the exact same way at wal-mart too so shut up.

oh and if you say i don’t go to wal-mart because you are a millionaire or whatever you are a lying piece of shit or you are paris hilton or trying to be.

wal-mart during the day is at least tolerable.

at nite it’s this whole other gross vibe feeling happening and all the cashiers make you feel like you are dealing with homeless people, you know what i mean? like you feel sorry for them because the atmosphere is draaaab and none of them are smiling so making fun small-talk is pointless.

i liked wal-mart better when it was woolco.

i dunno why they haven’t given us a target yet. canadians would be all over that shit. at least you feel better about yourself after visitting a target. after visitting wal-mart i feel really bad for the world and my teeth feel yellow.

and i never understood why the in doors are on the left and the out doors on the right. it’s so strange. what the fuck wal-mart?

and why are there ashtrays all along the exterior walls near the entrance? i know why they’re there, i’m being rhetorical here. wal-mart is saying that mainly poor people on welfare shop at wal-mart and poor people on welfare smoke cigarettes like crazy. that’s fine and all but they could at least act like fancy nonsmokers shop there also and take down those offensive ashtrays so it doesn’t look like a parkdale poolhall that i am walking into with my neice, come on wal-mart, you insulting piece of shit.

sometimes i just want to give up on words altogether.

take mike’s oscar quiz challenge and get everything wrong more than me because i want to win because i am selfish.

the top of my head is sort of platinum now and the rest is 8 different shades of malibu and my eyebrows are still dark so now i feel like wig-city and i don’t care.

car washes calm me down.

speechless.

sometimes i get the urge to make a whole new blog just to fiddle with a new template and put some sort of something clever title on it and specific google images that don’t mean anything and i call it the new shit the new space the new place to be for a little while and then i give up on it entirely but mostly it is because i was in the shower thinking of some random made-up story i thought would be endearing and i could have it up there and look at it like it was something that a whole other person wrote who was not me altogether and everything would be brilliant just like i thought when i was in the shower and i would link it and people would email and buy it completely and because it was written over there it would be different and new-feeling.

and then i think well i could just stop blogging for a month and save all that fake brilliance in a word document and cafepress it and put a new photo on it then sell it but because of this compulsion what is blogging i can’t do that and so i think that i will just write whatever the nonsense here like a post but it wouldn’t make much sense because say if i was writing as if i were a boy character or as a 12 year old, new random stumble upon readers would be like ungh?

but then i think fuck it, make a new blog, delete it, write the crappy word document, delete that, create a new post, keep it and pretend like you never wrote this bizarro explanation like you’re the avon lady. loser.