james made that to help advertise my shirts. and my guns too. some of you have emailed and said you purchased crap but i don’t believe you because cafepress is fucked up sort of and says that i have made zero dollars so whatever. not like i am da vinci or anything anyways.
i am having my roots done tomorrow. F-ing BLOND HAIR HIGH MAINTENANCE COARSE ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. though i will have more blond added to it so that my hair can look more like hay instead of strictly looking like a horse’s tail when it is curly dry weird messy.
and the first family hairdresser is going to be doing it. i haven’t seen her since i was ten i think. if she pulls my hair like she use to when i was a hyper-hypo shitkid i am going to go mental and she will go mental and then my mum will go mental and then i’ll have to wait in the car with foil on my head.
i stayed up ’til 3:30am talking to matthew good about jumprope clubs and being shut-ins and other nerdy shit and then some dingler telemarketer called and woke me up early for my grandmother who doesn’t live here and i just hung up on him when he started talking and so he calls back and i said excuuuuuuuuuuse me don’t you even care about my feelings? i was sleeping. no one lives here. i am house-sitting.
i read in the post about some old lady who had a heart attack on the phone because of a pushy telemarketer demanding her life savings and apparently this is/was happening quite often to old people so now when these fuckers call for my grandma i am extra suspicious about their intentions because i guess they know she is super-old and willing to fall for their “you won the lottery so empty your bank account to cover the taxes so you can collect it old lady you stupid bitch cunt CUNT cunt CUUUNT!”
and too bad for them all they get is a crabby fucked-up, shut-in everytime who gives nothing but contempt and rudeness.
there are at least 10 calls a day, sometimes 15, not kidding.
the first couple i am polite enough but by the 7th call i am pretty irritated because rocky and i are off being retarded together and the fone rings and he prances away like a grasshopper because noise is the boogey-man to him and it’s just some nasally dickhead on the line asking for my grandma.
perhaps if their voice was at least a little bit sexy, you know, things might remain mellow but no, even the telemarketer’s voice is impatient and annoyed like they have the right to do that. is that the new tactic? influence me with your impatience and i will spend ten minutes doing a survey with you? please, can i really?
and some of the time it sounds like the person just learned how to read. they talk all slow like it is going to make you hang off their every word and be so totally psyched like it’s 4 in the morning and they are as riveting as the tackiest infomercial ever, and by this i mean, at 4am, an informercial is your best and only friend therefore we adore the infomercial.
ok i don’t know where i was going with that analogy but what i do know is a telemarketer calling this house and the chance of me being not annoyed by it is like trying to convince the KKK to like black people.
jennifer and i are starting a knitting circle so that fil and matthew can talk about iraq and acoustic guitars together but neither of us know how to knit so we thought that we might crochet but that turns gay real fast so it will turn into taking turns talking over the political debates to talk about YTV and marshmallow picnics instead.
so i didn’t make a teeth diagram but it still hurts and maybe more than it did earlier on and everytime i move around my lower lip i feel it but i can’t stop doing it anyway. pain obsession. it makes me feel alive. etcetera.
and today, also, i am a bleeding factory of menstruation holy shit cervix what is your fucking problem?! here and there it can be just a simple, moderate flow but then a half hour later out of the blue i am bleeding enough for a blood transfusion to suffice the entire population of perth, ontario.
just in case i forgot i had ovaries and what not for a second there.
and i can’t even have fun with the whole being a scarey angry period monster because if i get all riled up all of my insides will bleed out of me entirely and i’ll just be a big pile of bloody mess on someone’s couch and they’ll look at me and go ok ok dude fine you can have the last fucking tic-tac, it’s really not that big of a deal holy fuck.
right, so i watched meet the fockers on a dvd magically obtained from the black market and the best part is when people are walking by and they are wearing baseball hats and you think that they might be some of the loser sketchbags hanging around high school by the shape of their shadow and the badness of their stride, i dunno, i was a bleeding factory ok i told you this already leave me alone!
i had a tooth(teeth?)-brushing accident last nite before band practise. i was dilly-dallying and fil shows up and i’m like okaaaaaay i’ll be ready soooooon so i start brushing my teeth like i am on speed and i am totally in the zone but then all of a sudden my toothbrush slams into that bottom part of your mouth in the middle on the outside of the teeth where that piece of gum whatever mouth-skin is and everything started bleeding.
i should make a diagram to better explain this to you because everything i just said is embarassing.
anyway.
now my mouth feels all bruised and hurty and i feel like i have old lady teeth and when i squinch up my chin for whatever random manic/spastic facial movements…everything feels sore and cut up and like my mouth is going to fall apart if i open it too much.
ok i will draw a diagram because my life is that exciting.
