Another weekend has come and gone and what do I have to show for it?
A slightly fatter ass and no sleep.
Was that a trick question?
Yet again, I got no sleep. I had to run, run, run to get here and do this with this person or pick up this or get my oil changed that. I'm fucking sick and tired of this pace. I just want a day for myself. Is that really so much to ask?
Let us break down this week to see where I'll get some free time...
Monday - Work, school, home for dinner, library, bed.
Tuesday - Work, school, home for dinner, library, bed.
Wednesday - School, home for dinner, library, bed.
Thursday - Work, bed.
Friday - Word, drinks, bed.
Ok, so the drinks on Fridays is all I really have to live for lately. It's sad. I'm sad. I'm tired.
I'm laying in bed right now blogging. This is what I'm reduced to. Jesus Henry Christ.
That's fucking it. I've had it.
Next weekend I'm sleeping the whole damn time, or getting so mind blowing drunk that I have to stay in bed to recover all weekend. Fuck it, fuck you, fuck everyone.
I'm crabby as you probably perceived.
Don't look at me like that.
I'm out.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
ode to friday/open letter of hate
I feel the need to vent some anger.
Today is the day from hell. Why might you ask?
1. My dad took the bathroom hostage so I couldn’t dry my hair or fix my face or brush my goddamn teeth. He will suffer.
2. I left late and there was a sea of traffic, why? Because one douche bag got pulled over, thus the gawking masses needed to watch.
3. SFB called in sick today, words cannot express.
4. Because of #3 I’m stuck at the front desk all day, forced to make small talk and be nice to people. I don’t do ‘nice to people’.
Those are just the things that so far have made my day a nightmare. I’ve decided that I today is going to blow no matter what I do. I was totally trying to think positive for my self fulfilling prophesy, but it’s just now working.
Some random texts I feel the need to share:
Never getting a tattoo on the lines of fat on my neck. Very attractive. What tattoo artist would have been like yeah, that’s a good place for it? - Especially Chinese symbols, could you not be original at least?
I’M GOING TO GET OUT OF THIS CAR AND BEAT THE MOTHERFUCKER IN FRONT OF ME WITH MY SHOE! - I had to follow this dick from 494W all the way to 35N and then to 36E. It was raining and people we're driving like their cars were going to melt. Get the hell over it.
I refuse to believe that all people aren’t retarded. I want to see documented proof. It should be a little card you carry around and it should have sections like common sense, reliability, honesty and other shit we can we can judge whether or not you deserve to live. I’m sure I sound like Hitler, I don’t care. Maybe I wouldn’t kill them. Just send them to an island. - This text seemed calm when you read it, but in my head I was screaming this. I am a quiet riot.
Guess who finally came out?! Gayken! - I was actually excited about this, we all knew.
Umm aren’t Amish people supposed to not go to McDonalds? I thought they thought this shit is evil. - I saw a van full of Amish ladies and kids there, seriously isn't that against their religion?
The fact that they have carpet pad called Twilight, makes me want to office space this computer. - I will never get over this. Never. Rue the day!
Any sixty year old woman who whines to get her way deserves to be shot. - A lady at my work does this all the goddamned time. Drives me nuts. You sound and look ridiculous. No wonder your kids never visit you.
Those are just a sample of the week thus far.
I need to talk about my weird call the other day. Nelson called me and asked what I was doing on Thursday. I said nothing, working as usual. He said that he might have an extra ticket for the Twins game (Satan totally went, jealous!) and that he would let me know. I would have been able to make it because the game didn't start until 8:10pm and I was off at 7pm. I was kinda stoked, GO TWINS! Anyway, on Wednesday night he calls and says no such luck. I wasn't really upset, until he told me why I was bumped out. Apparently Jase has a girlfriend. It's still very early but he wanted to introduce her to the guys. He actually got the tickets from work so they weren't Nel's to give anyway. It still stung though. I was actually seething.
I was totally bitter, until Nelson called me last night. He he he. She was a nightmare! Or so he says. She talked the entire time, knew nothing of who was playing or what a big deal the game was. Complained when the game went into extra innings. Made Jase get her food and drinks multiple times. Bitched that she had to walk to the bathroom. (They had good seats, right above the Chicago's dug out thus farther to walk to the bathrooms.) I am so pissed, first off I love the Twins. I know all of the players I want to have babies with. I would have loved those seats and not been annoying. What I'm basically saying is I would make a better girlfriend than her. Not that I want to date him anyway. But because I don't want him he can't want anyone else. Didn't he know this rule? Men. Or should I say boys!
Another thing that's thrown my shit for a loop this week is the 'Pam/Josh Creepy Announcement of 2008'. That's what I'm christening that shit! Ugh. Ok so I'll keep this brief, basically he being the drunk dick that he is kissed me on my birthday. Then fucking three months later he tells Pam? Excuse me? Oh, because you made out with some other random girl at a party you feel like you can justify this by telling my friend that 'it's no big deal, I've made out with Sam for fuck sake!' Excuse me? First off, I'd rather make out with a trashcan of shit on fire before you, you revolt me! Second, why the hell are you telling her? Gag! Third, I find it funny for two reasons; one being instead of focusing on the fact that he may or may not have upto five kids your more pissed about the fact that he made out with some chick and that when you guys fight you bring me into the equation. Saying things like "Why don't you date Sam then?" should never be brought up. It's plain creepy. Now whenever I see the two of you again I'll feel like there is a huge pink elephant tap dancing in the room. Way to make it awkward you two! Ugh!
Sorry, that last paragraph probably makes no sense but I had to release it from the void that is my mind. Sigh, I'm so glad it's the weekend. I deserve a drink!
This will be the first Saturday in a long time that I don't have to get up for shit early. Yay! I'm totally going to drink too much tonight!
Well, it was nice to get that off of my mind. Toodles
Oh one more thing...
Open Letter to Chrome Helmet Bicycle Guy,
First off, I could see you shiny head from three blocks away. If you choose to drive in a lane like a car then I will in fact treat you like a car. Please don't turn around fifteen times and glare at me like I don't see you and I'm breaking an unwritten rule that I can't get close to you. I am ten feet away. I'm not going to hit you. How dare you assume that you are somehow special because you are wearing that ridiculous thing on you head.
Eat shit and die,
El Diablo
Oh and just one more thing...
I had to watch a movie called ‘The Last Tango in Paris’ these are the texts that transpired while watching this: (I'm not even going to add my usual comments, I'll just let your imaginations work!)
And we’re thirteen minutes in and their doing it, they don’t even know eachothers names.
OMG she has a huge bush.
Ok, the premise of this movie is that he orders her to come over to his apartment and have sex with him. No names. No attachments. No talking apparently.
He’s ass raping her with butter. I shit you not.
I am horrified beyond belief.
He just made her cut her fingernails so she could shove them up his ass. She ass raped him with her fingers.
There are just so many things I could say about this movie. I wont because I don’t want to ruin it for you. Not that anyone is rushing out to get this movie made in the seventies with Marlon Brando. I’m just assuming.
Now that I've probably scarred you mentally, have a great weekend!
Today is the day from hell. Why might you ask?
1. My dad took the bathroom hostage so I couldn’t dry my hair or fix my face or brush my goddamn teeth. He will suffer.
2. I left late and there was a sea of traffic, why? Because one douche bag got pulled over, thus the gawking masses needed to watch.
3. SFB called in sick today, words cannot express.
4. Because of #3 I’m stuck at the front desk all day, forced to make small talk and be nice to people. I don’t do ‘nice to people’.
Those are just the things that so far have made my day a nightmare. I’ve decided that I today is going to blow no matter what I do. I was totally trying to think positive for my self fulfilling prophesy, but it’s just now working.
Some random texts I feel the need to share:
Never getting a tattoo on the lines of fat on my neck. Very attractive. What tattoo artist would have been like yeah, that’s a good place for it? - Especially Chinese symbols, could you not be original at least?
I’M GOING TO GET OUT OF THIS CAR AND BEAT THE MOTHERFUCKER IN FRONT OF ME WITH MY SHOE! - I had to follow this dick from 494W all the way to 35N and then to 36E. It was raining and people we're driving like their cars were going to melt. Get the hell over it.
I refuse to believe that all people aren’t retarded. I want to see documented proof. It should be a little card you carry around and it should have sections like common sense, reliability, honesty and other shit we can we can judge whether or not you deserve to live. I’m sure I sound like Hitler, I don’t care. Maybe I wouldn’t kill them. Just send them to an island. - This text seemed calm when you read it, but in my head I was screaming this. I am a quiet riot.
Guess who finally came out?! Gayken! - I was actually excited about this, we all knew.
Umm aren’t Amish people supposed to not go to McDonalds? I thought they thought this shit is evil. - I saw a van full of Amish ladies and kids there, seriously isn't that against their religion?
The fact that they have carpet pad called Twilight, makes me want to office space this computer. - I will never get over this. Never. Rue the day!
Any sixty year old woman who whines to get her way deserves to be shot. - A lady at my work does this all the goddamned time. Drives me nuts. You sound and look ridiculous. No wonder your kids never visit you.
Those are just a sample of the week thus far.
I need to talk about my weird call the other day. Nelson called me and asked what I was doing on Thursday. I said nothing, working as usual. He said that he might have an extra ticket for the Twins game (Satan totally went, jealous!) and that he would let me know. I would have been able to make it because the game didn't start until 8:10pm and I was off at 7pm. I was kinda stoked, GO TWINS! Anyway, on Wednesday night he calls and says no such luck. I wasn't really upset, until he told me why I was bumped out. Apparently Jase has a girlfriend. It's still very early but he wanted to introduce her to the guys. He actually got the tickets from work so they weren't Nel's to give anyway. It still stung though. I was actually seething.
I was totally bitter, until Nelson called me last night. He he he. She was a nightmare! Or so he says. She talked the entire time, knew nothing of who was playing or what a big deal the game was. Complained when the game went into extra innings. Made Jase get her food and drinks multiple times. Bitched that she had to walk to the bathroom. (They had good seats, right above the Chicago's dug out thus farther to walk to the bathrooms.) I am so pissed, first off I love the Twins. I know all of the players I want to have babies with. I would have loved those seats and not been annoying. What I'm basically saying is I would make a better girlfriend than her. Not that I want to date him anyway. But because I don't want him he can't want anyone else. Didn't he know this rule? Men. Or should I say boys!
Another thing that's thrown my shit for a loop this week is the 'Pam/Josh Creepy Announcement of 2008'. That's what I'm christening that shit! Ugh. Ok so I'll keep this brief, basically he being the drunk dick that he is kissed me on my birthday. Then fucking three months later he tells Pam? Excuse me? Oh, because you made out with some other random girl at a party you feel like you can justify this by telling my friend that 'it's no big deal, I've made out with Sam for fuck sake!' Excuse me? First off, I'd rather make out with a trashcan of shit on fire before you, you revolt me! Second, why the hell are you telling her? Gag! Third, I find it funny for two reasons; one being instead of focusing on the fact that he may or may not have upto five kids your more pissed about the fact that he made out with some chick and that when you guys fight you bring me into the equation. Saying things like "Why don't you date Sam then?" should never be brought up. It's plain creepy. Now whenever I see the two of you again I'll feel like there is a huge pink elephant tap dancing in the room. Way to make it awkward you two! Ugh!
Sorry, that last paragraph probably makes no sense but I had to release it from the void that is my mind. Sigh, I'm so glad it's the weekend. I deserve a drink!
This will be the first Saturday in a long time that I don't have to get up for shit early. Yay! I'm totally going to drink too much tonight!
Well, it was nice to get that off of my mind. Toodles
Oh one more thing...
Open Letter to Chrome Helmet Bicycle Guy,
First off, I could see you shiny head from three blocks away. If you choose to drive in a lane like a car then I will in fact treat you like a car. Please don't turn around fifteen times and glare at me like I don't see you and I'm breaking an unwritten rule that I can't get close to you. I am ten feet away. I'm not going to hit you. How dare you assume that you are somehow special because you are wearing that ridiculous thing on you head.
Eat shit and die,
El Diablo
Oh and just one more thing...
I had to watch a movie called ‘The Last Tango in Paris’ these are the texts that transpired while watching this: (I'm not even going to add my usual comments, I'll just let your imaginations work!)
And we’re thirteen minutes in and their doing it, they don’t even know eachothers names.
OMG she has a huge bush.
Ok, the premise of this movie is that he orders her to come over to his apartment and have sex with him. No names. No attachments. No talking apparently.
He’s ass raping her with butter. I shit you not.
I am horrified beyond belief.
He just made her cut her fingernails so she could shove them up his ass. She ass raped him with her fingers.
There are just so many things I could say about this movie. I wont because I don’t want to ruin it for you. Not that anyone is rushing out to get this movie made in the seventies with Marlon Brando. I’m just assuming.
Now that I've probably scarred you mentally, have a great weekend!
Friday, September 19, 2008
posh dreams and prone ambitions
It's Friday! Finally. I really started to doubt me getting through this week. It started dragging, oh, Monday morning. I can't wait for the drink that is waiting for me at our spot. It is a well deserved prize for making it through and not killing, maiming or seriously injuring myself or others. Especially toddlers...
I wanted to share a dream I had last night. I really didn't think I got enough sleep to qualify for an R.E.M. cycle, but I guess the four hours did the trick. My dream started out with me bringing my dog (a dog of the future obviously because I don't have a toy poodle, nor do I really want one so that's a little strange...) to the vet. But not just any vet, Satan's husband, the really hot and wealthy vet. The vet whom my doctor husband and I and Satan go on annual vacations with. Yes. Satan was married to a vet and they owned their own clinic, and I was married to an orthopedic surgeon. I'm sensing you realizing why I enjoyed this dream immensely. Anyway, after he checked the dog out we all went to lunch where Satan told us that she was going back to school to be a vet too. We decided to celebrate that night when my husband was off duty. That night we went to a bar in Minneapolis and smoked cigars and drank martinis, it was very posh. I don't really remember very much after that but my dream was pretty. Sigh, if only. Well, maybe she will marry a vet. I'll probably get a male nurse though... Ha ha.
It's almost time for me to go up front. Meaning I only have another hour of this godforsaken day before I can go get my books from the library and possibly take a nap, ah bed. I can hear you calling me from fifteen miles away. We'll be together soon Mon Cherie...
I wanted to share a dream I had last night. I really didn't think I got enough sleep to qualify for an R.E.M. cycle, but I guess the four hours did the trick. My dream started out with me bringing my dog (a dog of the future obviously because I don't have a toy poodle, nor do I really want one so that's a little strange...) to the vet. But not just any vet, Satan's husband, the really hot and wealthy vet. The vet whom my doctor husband and I and Satan go on annual vacations with. Yes. Satan was married to a vet and they owned their own clinic, and I was married to an orthopedic surgeon. I'm sensing you realizing why I enjoyed this dream immensely. Anyway, after he checked the dog out we all went to lunch where Satan told us that she was going back to school to be a vet too. We decided to celebrate that night when my husband was off duty. That night we went to a bar in Minneapolis and smoked cigars and drank martinis, it was very posh. I don't really remember very much after that but my dream was pretty. Sigh, if only. Well, maybe she will marry a vet. I'll probably get a male nurse though... Ha ha.
It's almost time for me to go up front. Meaning I only have another hour of this godforsaken day before I can go get my books from the library and possibly take a nap, ah bed. I can hear you calling me from fifteen miles away. We'll be together soon Mon Cherie...
Thursday, September 18, 2008
smithereens and twats
A conversation through text Satan and I shared... I'll let you draw your own conclusions.
Me: The fucking blue line came back!
Satan: What blue line?
Me: On my phones screen. I want to smash this piece of shit to smithereens!
Satan: You have insurance don’t you? New phone time.
Me: I think I’m going to the store after school tomorrow. Fucking bastard! Maybe I’ll turn it off.
Satan: Deep breathing. Call it a cunt. It’s pink after all.
Me: It’s red – Bloody Bastard!
Satan: Ha ha ha ha! That conversation may need to be captured forever.
Me: Ha. Ok, I just reread that we are witty SOB’s.
Satan: This is true. And so humble about that fact too.
Me: It’s our goodness and purity of heart that makes us saints.
Satan: Sigh, truer words have never been spoken.
Me: Someday soon monuments will be erected in our honor.
Satan: We really are gifts sent from above.
Me: Cherubs and such.
Satan: People will rue the day they ever crossed us once they realize who we are. Insignificant twats!
Me: LMAO you busted out twats. Oh snap.
Satan: He he he! Yes I did. It made me giggle. God damn it we are funny!
Me: Put that shit in the book.
Satan: LMAO! I JUST SNORTED!
Me: Smithereens and twats will do that to you. Oof.
Me: The fucking blue line came back!
Satan: What blue line?
Me: On my phones screen. I want to smash this piece of shit to smithereens!
Satan: You have insurance don’t you? New phone time.
Me: I think I’m going to the store after school tomorrow. Fucking bastard! Maybe I’ll turn it off.
Satan: Deep breathing. Call it a cunt. It’s pink after all.
Me: It’s red – Bloody Bastard!
Satan: Ha ha ha ha! That conversation may need to be captured forever.
Me: Ha. Ok, I just reread that we are witty SOB’s.
Satan: This is true. And so humble about that fact too.
Me: It’s our goodness and purity of heart that makes us saints.
Satan: Sigh, truer words have never been spoken.
Me: Someday soon monuments will be erected in our honor.
Satan: We really are gifts sent from above.
Me: Cherubs and such.
Satan: People will rue the day they ever crossed us once they realize who we are. Insignificant twats!
Me: LMAO you busted out twats. Oh snap.
Satan: He he he! Yes I did. It made me giggle. God damn it we are funny!
Me: Put that shit in the book.
Satan: LMAO! I JUST SNORTED!
Me: Smithereens and twats will do that to you. Oof.
toxins
Yes, EL Diablo is a sucker.
I love infomercials and all of that shit you can buy on t.v.
Lately I’ve been wanting those detox foot pads. This horrified Satan more than anything I’ve ever told her (which I find hilarious, because I’ve told her some messed up shit about myself!) and she instantly didn’t want to know anything about them or see pictures of the process.
Being the scientific person I am I wanted to capture the moments and document them, so far I haven’t sent her any pictures. (Yet…) Anyway I got them in the mail about a couple of days ago and started them immediately. The first night is says to only put it on one of your feet and then every other night switch. For the sake of the experiment I followed the directions. The next day the leg I didn’t put the patch on hurt really bad, it felt like I pulled a muscle or something. It didn’t feel bad the night before, I text her this the that morning:
Ok, I didn’t send you the pic. But what’s weird is the foot that I didn’t put the patch on hurts. Like I’m limping a bit. WTF? It fucking hurts to drive! The leg I didn’t put it on feels fine. Traffic makes me want to stab a pencil in someones eye. I’m bitter, angry and crippled today. And if I have to slam my foot down on the brakes one more time I’m going to lose it. Don’t fuck with me today grandma in the green minivan. I will fuck you up! Gimme a pencil! Ps your rage in the am makes me feel complete. Boop!
Later that day I text her : I’m rolling everywhere in my office chair. Ouch. Fucking foot! This is bullshit.
She then asked me: Are you sure you didn’t invent this illness?
I replied : No! I can’t walk on the damn thing. I’m not making this up in my head or otherwise. Rude.
She pretty much confirmed she was fucking with me at this point.
I then replied: You knew I’d get indignant? Rude. Sniff.
So the mystery still exists. The next night I did both feet and nothing. My foot and leg still sort of hurt but I’m trying to ignore this fact. I will not look it up on WebMD.
I love infomercials and all of that shit you can buy on t.v.
Lately I’ve been wanting those detox foot pads. This horrified Satan more than anything I’ve ever told her (which I find hilarious, because I’ve told her some messed up shit about myself!) and she instantly didn’t want to know anything about them or see pictures of the process.
Being the scientific person I am I wanted to capture the moments and document them, so far I haven’t sent her any pictures. (Yet…) Anyway I got them in the mail about a couple of days ago and started them immediately. The first night is says to only put it on one of your feet and then every other night switch. For the sake of the experiment I followed the directions. The next day the leg I didn’t put the patch on hurt really bad, it felt like I pulled a muscle or something. It didn’t feel bad the night before, I text her this the that morning:
Ok, I didn’t send you the pic. But what’s weird is the foot that I didn’t put the patch on hurts. Like I’m limping a bit. WTF? It fucking hurts to drive! The leg I didn’t put it on feels fine. Traffic makes me want to stab a pencil in someones eye. I’m bitter, angry and crippled today. And if I have to slam my foot down on the brakes one more time I’m going to lose it. Don’t fuck with me today grandma in the green minivan. I will fuck you up! Gimme a pencil! Ps your rage in the am makes me feel complete. Boop!
Later that day I text her : I’m rolling everywhere in my office chair. Ouch. Fucking foot! This is bullshit.
She then asked me: Are you sure you didn’t invent this illness?
I replied : No! I can’t walk on the damn thing. I’m not making this up in my head or otherwise. Rude.
She pretty much confirmed she was fucking with me at this point.
I then replied: You knew I’d get indignant? Rude. Sniff.
So the mystery still exists. The next night I did both feet and nothing. My foot and leg still sort of hurt but I’m trying to ignore this fact. I will not look it up on WebMD.
blond ambition
I head a joke recently that made me giggle. I’m a brunette so this might seem a little demeaning to blonds, do I care? Not at all.
What do you call a dead blond in a closet? Hide-And-Seek Champion 2004!
I lost my shit on that one!
What do you call a dead blond in a closet? Hide-And-Seek Champion 2004!
I lost my shit on that one!
rue the day
Satan and I have a new catchphrase. Rue the day! I highly suggest you work it into your daily vocabulary. Stubbed your toe? Say “You will rue the day table!” Then be sure to whisper it one more time “Rue the day!” People will think your insane. I love it. I can’t wait to use it. I want to terrify someone! Make sure when you whisper it to have a crazy maniacal look on your face and or twitch involuntarily. People will scatter!
random texts
The cunt who went home early on Friday looks a bit too chipper this morning. Me thinks she was not sick – me thinks the whore went home early and took a nap and then went out on Friday night. I want to throttle her with all my might. No fuck that, I want to throttle her in a month after I’ve had time to work on my upper body strength. Hooker! - I was pissed. She actually did this a few more times this week, taking advantage that our boss is on vacation much?
LMAO this fat dude with two spare tires has an ‘I am Tiger Woods’ t-shirt on. Sure buddy. - I giggled. Not very nice. I know. I know.
I can’t even get over this little bastard in the computer lab – he says his computer has PMS because it’s been a bitch for five days. First off, if you’re going to compare get the days right. Second you get PMS before your period. Third you’ve prolly never even seen a vagina so stop talking about them you loser. That fucker enraged me. I want to chuck my phone at his face. - He was a pizza faced loser! This really bothered the shit out of me. I wanted to make him suffer!
Have you ever been so hungry your nauseus? Because I am. I honestly want to eat horse. Yum roasted horse! - I was starving. I think the hunger was making me hallucinate. But when reread I found the fact that I had to take it to the roasted level disturbingley funny.
Satan text me about a dog that they had to put down at her vet’s office, so sad. I replied: OMG they put it down? Why I typed dawn and was instantly resentful of Stephanie Meyer I’m not sure. - I will forever be haunted by even the word twilight.
LMAO this fat dude with two spare tires has an ‘I am Tiger Woods’ t-shirt on. Sure buddy. - I giggled. Not very nice. I know. I know.
I can’t even get over this little bastard in the computer lab – he says his computer has PMS because it’s been a bitch for five days. First off, if you’re going to compare get the days right. Second you get PMS before your period. Third you’ve prolly never even seen a vagina so stop talking about them you loser. That fucker enraged me. I want to chuck my phone at his face. - He was a pizza faced loser! This really bothered the shit out of me. I wanted to make him suffer!
Have you ever been so hungry your nauseus? Because I am. I honestly want to eat horse. Yum roasted horse! - I was starving. I think the hunger was making me hallucinate. But when reread I found the fact that I had to take it to the roasted level disturbingley funny.
Satan text me about a dog that they had to put down at her vet’s office, so sad. I replied: OMG they put it down? Why I typed dawn and was instantly resentful of Stephanie Meyer I’m not sure. - I will forever be haunted by even the word twilight.
hump day
Wednesday’s are my long days. I’ve said this many times. I really can’t wait until next semester when my schedule will change and it will no longer be my long day. Until then here is a recount of my day through texts.
6:39 A.M. – The fact that the moon is still out when I’m leaving for school makes me sad. This is bullshit. And I agree on the snooze button thing. I only had a half hour for what I need an hour to do because I couldn’t get my ass out of bed. I’m going to chug my rockstar and hope it kicks in fast. FML.
Satan had text me about hitting her snooze a few too many times. I think I need to super glue mine up so I can’t hit it!
6:46 A.M. - Ah it’s like a sea of brakes lights. I love traffic. I just want to hump it!
Satan had also sent me a text filled with rage about the color red and brake lights. Ah, rage in the morning, there’s nothing like it. Can’t you just hear my text dripping with sarcasm?
6:49 A.M. - Smokey treat. So much better. I instantly calmed down. This will last for three minutes until some dick with a towel on his head cuts me off.
Racist. I’ve never denied it.
6:59 A.M. - That was racist. It was actually a douche in a trailblazer with a popped collar and aviators. Shit went out of style four years ago, but hold onto it. It’ll come back in 20 years, I just know it! I want to see his dead body on my hood. Fucker!
See I even felt bad about the previous text. I repented.
7:08 A.M. – Oh god what do you think a vanity plate PLANDDIT means? I think it’s pop lock and drop it. I hope so anyway. Oof, shit cracked me up!
I really think that’s what it was. It was a huge black Escalade with spinny rims for Christs sake!
7:39 A.M. – I had to bust out the hoodie. I left it in my trunk last night but it’s supposed to be seventy! Too bad they keep it frigid in all of my classes. Oh and who brings all of their makeup to school and does it in the bathroom? Because I came in here to poop in peace and you’re expertly putting on your eye makeup.I hope you can smell me shitting. You deserve it! Ugh!
Yes, I have no shame. I had to go, rockstar does that to me. I can’t help it.
10:20 A.M. – I’m sad that I’m trapped in this basement of hell and I have three hours to go… Plus, my phone gets no reception. Sweet. And now I have two hours to go and I have to pee so bad. Jesus lady can we take a break already? Please? Oh god, DON’T THINK OF RIVERS! Shit too late. Ok, I’m fine. Fuck that no I’m not. OMG OMG OMG SO THIS OLD GUY TRIED TO MAKE HIS EMPTY POP BOTTLE IN THE TRASH AND HIT SOME GIRL SQUARE IN THE HEAD! OH GOD! SO FUCKING FUNNY!
I had no reception so I had to make this a running text, notice how the time changes and my desperation gets worse. I literally had to talk myself out of pissing my pants. Bitch! Then the bottle incident happened. I had to put my head on the desk to stop laughing. It was funny to watch the other peoples horrified faces turn into laughter. I shook and giggled for like three minutes. Needless to say, she let us out on a break after that. The old dude followed that girl everywhere apologizing. I don’t think I’m relating how funny this actually was.
I sent a few more after this, but these I think capture the absurdity that is my life. And that was just Wednesday.
6:39 A.M. – The fact that the moon is still out when I’m leaving for school makes me sad. This is bullshit. And I agree on the snooze button thing. I only had a half hour for what I need an hour to do because I couldn’t get my ass out of bed. I’m going to chug my rockstar and hope it kicks in fast. FML.
Satan had text me about hitting her snooze a few too many times. I think I need to super glue mine up so I can’t hit it!
6:46 A.M. - Ah it’s like a sea of brakes lights. I love traffic. I just want to hump it!
Satan had also sent me a text filled with rage about the color red and brake lights. Ah, rage in the morning, there’s nothing like it. Can’t you just hear my text dripping with sarcasm?
6:49 A.M. - Smokey treat. So much better. I instantly calmed down. This will last for three minutes until some dick with a towel on his head cuts me off.
Racist. I’ve never denied it.
6:59 A.M. - That was racist. It was actually a douche in a trailblazer with a popped collar and aviators. Shit went out of style four years ago, but hold onto it. It’ll come back in 20 years, I just know it! I want to see his dead body on my hood. Fucker!
See I even felt bad about the previous text. I repented.
7:08 A.M. – Oh god what do you think a vanity plate PLANDDIT means? I think it’s pop lock and drop it. I hope so anyway. Oof, shit cracked me up!
I really think that’s what it was. It was a huge black Escalade with spinny rims for Christs sake!
7:39 A.M. – I had to bust out the hoodie. I left it in my trunk last night but it’s supposed to be seventy! Too bad they keep it frigid in all of my classes. Oh and who brings all of their makeup to school and does it in the bathroom? Because I came in here to poop in peace and you’re expertly putting on your eye makeup.I hope you can smell me shitting. You deserve it! Ugh!
Yes, I have no shame. I had to go, rockstar does that to me. I can’t help it.
10:20 A.M. – I’m sad that I’m trapped in this basement of hell and I have three hours to go… Plus, my phone gets no reception. Sweet. And now I have two hours to go and I have to pee so bad. Jesus lady can we take a break already? Please? Oh god, DON’T THINK OF RIVERS! Shit too late. Ok, I’m fine. Fuck that no I’m not. OMG OMG OMG SO THIS OLD GUY TRIED TO MAKE HIS EMPTY POP BOTTLE IN THE TRASH AND HIT SOME GIRL SQUARE IN THE HEAD! OH GOD! SO FUCKING FUNNY!
I had no reception so I had to make this a running text, notice how the time changes and my desperation gets worse. I literally had to talk myself out of pissing my pants. Bitch! Then the bottle incident happened. I had to put my head on the desk to stop laughing. It was funny to watch the other peoples horrified faces turn into laughter. I shook and giggled for like three minutes. Needless to say, she let us out on a break after that. The old dude followed that girl everywhere apologizing. I don’t think I’m relating how funny this actually was.
I sent a few more after this, but these I think capture the absurdity that is my life. And that was just Wednesday.
Friday, September 12, 2008
hangover prevention
Sitting at the front desk for the last hour of my day really makes me think of only one thing. Sleep. I am utterly and completely exhausted. I feel like lying underneath the reception desk and closing my eyes. Just five more minutes Mom! Sigh.
This weekend is going to blow. I’ve decided it. And my self-foretelling prophecy will come true. We’re going out tonight (thank god) then I’m going to work at 7 a.m. for a few hours, then I’ll be going to the library to write my English paper, then to take grandma to church, then to dinner with the family and then last but not least to ‘hang out’ with Bryan. I will subsequently stay in bed all of Sunday napping. I hate packing a ton of shit into my weekends. It makes me feel like I have no time to myself.
Tonight, or rather when I get off, I will be going home to nap. Just for a few hours anyway. I always say that I’m going to nap but never get around to it, tonight will be different. I will make it so. I have to be up in enough time to get ready for booze.
Get ready for booze you might say? What is that? Well, my friends it is a process in which I am well schooled. It involves many steps which is where most novices in the art of drinking go wrong. Many a hangover can be attributed to missing these easy tasks.
1. Never drink on an empty stomach, or a stomach filled with only vegetables. (Unless you want to truly get hammered. Try it sometime, at your own risk.)
2. Always dress in nice clothes, but yet ones you feel comfortable vomiting in or on. (You will not catch me going out in a dress or skirt when boozing…)
3. If you’re going home at the end of the night make sure to have these three things handy; a bottle of water, some pain reliever and a trashcan. (I can’t stress enough how important it is to drink that entire bottle and take some aspirin before bed!)
4. I don’t think I need to tell you what the trashcan is for.
5. Finally if you’re a girl it’s always a good idea to have face wipes next to the bed, it is never attractive to wake up to full on raccoon eyes and mascara in your mouth. (It’s happened before, it’ll happen again.)
Rookie mistakes can make or break you Saturday or Sunday mornings. I’ve imparted this knowledge on you in the hopes that someday you’ll do it for someone else. No one should have to suffer from monster hangovers or gargoyles again. Please pass this on.
I only have thirty-three minutes left; I only have thirty-three minutes left. Boon!
Ok, it’s short and sweet and I even gifted you with the schooling of hangover prevention. I’m out! Enjoy your weekend. Hopefully I survive…
This weekend is going to blow. I’ve decided it. And my self-foretelling prophecy will come true. We’re going out tonight (thank god) then I’m going to work at 7 a.m. for a few hours, then I’ll be going to the library to write my English paper, then to take grandma to church, then to dinner with the family and then last but not least to ‘hang out’ with Bryan. I will subsequently stay in bed all of Sunday napping. I hate packing a ton of shit into my weekends. It makes me feel like I have no time to myself.
Tonight, or rather when I get off, I will be going home to nap. Just for a few hours anyway. I always say that I’m going to nap but never get around to it, tonight will be different. I will make it so. I have to be up in enough time to get ready for booze.
Get ready for booze you might say? What is that? Well, my friends it is a process in which I am well schooled. It involves many steps which is where most novices in the art of drinking go wrong. Many a hangover can be attributed to missing these easy tasks.
1. Never drink on an empty stomach, or a stomach filled with only vegetables. (Unless you want to truly get hammered. Try it sometime, at your own risk.)
2. Always dress in nice clothes, but yet ones you feel comfortable vomiting in or on. (You will not catch me going out in a dress or skirt when boozing…)
3. If you’re going home at the end of the night make sure to have these three things handy; a bottle of water, some pain reliever and a trashcan. (I can’t stress enough how important it is to drink that entire bottle and take some aspirin before bed!)
4. I don’t think I need to tell you what the trashcan is for.
5. Finally if you’re a girl it’s always a good idea to have face wipes next to the bed, it is never attractive to wake up to full on raccoon eyes and mascara in your mouth. (It’s happened before, it’ll happen again.)
Rookie mistakes can make or break you Saturday or Sunday mornings. I’ve imparted this knowledge on you in the hopes that someday you’ll do it for someone else. No one should have to suffer from monster hangovers or gargoyles again. Please pass this on.
I only have thirty-three minutes left; I only have thirty-three minutes left. Boon!
Ok, it’s short and sweet and I even gifted you with the schooling of hangover prevention. I’m out! Enjoy your weekend. Hopefully I survive…
Thursday, September 11, 2008
fucking eh
Asinine; that is what today is. The depths of my rage are churning like the black sea that has claimed many a pirate and sea faring wench. I wish not to speak of it but I can’t seem to stop. Sorrow and anger fill my black heart. I should have never agreed to take over for my boss during her vacation. Should have, could have and would have. Too late!
I’ve been at work for almost six hours today; indeed, yet I have not been able to accomplish one task that has been piling on my desk for the past two days. I don’t work on Wednesday’s, I go to school instead. For some reason I assumed that in my absence someone would be handling the daily issues I get. I thought wrong, alas they are still sitting there on my desk waiting patiently for my return. Unfortunately, I’m up at the front desk for another two hours and then after that I have to finish the multitude of things on her to-do list. I hate it here.
Life in general has been depressing for me. When I read Satan’s blog about not having fun anymore it really hit home. Go to work, go to school, go to the library… Where is go to the bar? Where is have fun? Where is sleep? I’m becoming wistful for the weekends of debauchery and decadence. Fuck watching movies, we’re going to our spot tomorrow. We’ll make her brother come pick us up! I just had that brilliant idea and text her it. Hopefully she agrees! I know I have to go to the library on Saturday and write a paper but tough, that’s Saturday!
School isn’t that bad, I’m just having a hard time balancing it. I wish I didn’t have to work and go to school. I’ve been pulling like thirty hour weeks and full time school. I’m eventually going to snap. Eye spasm! Besides Friday, do you know what I intend on doing this weekend? Sleep. I want to catch up on all of the sleep I’m missing during the first part of the week. I have a feeling that this will be a weekly occurrence. Yawn. I can’t wait until seven when I get off. I’m going to finish my movie that I couldn’t stay awake for last night, return that and then crash! I think I’m going to work eleven hours tomorrow so I should get some sleep.
Some dude is psycho calling the front desk. I have to go.
Fuck everyone and everything.
I’ve been at work for almost six hours today; indeed, yet I have not been able to accomplish one task that has been piling on my desk for the past two days. I don’t work on Wednesday’s, I go to school instead. For some reason I assumed that in my absence someone would be handling the daily issues I get. I thought wrong, alas they are still sitting there on my desk waiting patiently for my return. Unfortunately, I’m up at the front desk for another two hours and then after that I have to finish the multitude of things on her to-do list. I hate it here.
Life in general has been depressing for me. When I read Satan’s blog about not having fun anymore it really hit home. Go to work, go to school, go to the library… Where is go to the bar? Where is have fun? Where is sleep? I’m becoming wistful for the weekends of debauchery and decadence. Fuck watching movies, we’re going to our spot tomorrow. We’ll make her brother come pick us up! I just had that brilliant idea and text her it. Hopefully she agrees! I know I have to go to the library on Saturday and write a paper but tough, that’s Saturday!
School isn’t that bad, I’m just having a hard time balancing it. I wish I didn’t have to work and go to school. I’ve been pulling like thirty hour weeks and full time school. I’m eventually going to snap. Eye spasm! Besides Friday, do you know what I intend on doing this weekend? Sleep. I want to catch up on all of the sleep I’m missing during the first part of the week. I have a feeling that this will be a weekly occurrence. Yawn. I can’t wait until seven when I get off. I’m going to finish my movie that I couldn’t stay awake for last night, return that and then crash! I think I’m going to work eleven hours tomorrow so I should get some sleep.
Some dude is psycho calling the front desk. I have to go.
Fuck everyone and everything.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
wasting time never works
I loathe Wednesdays... Why may you ask? Oh trust that I'll tell you. When am I ever quiet about things? When do I ever self monitor my emotions in this fucking thing? Never. I can't help it. It's my only way to vent besides my friends, and honestly I think they're sick of my ranting sometimes. Sorry Satan! I live in my own mind and I like talking about myself, as does everyone I believe. Some people are selfless and giving. I am selfless and taking. And who doesn't love the sound of their own voice sometimes? Not me.
Wednesdays are my long days. No work for EL Diablo today, just school from 8am until 5:50pm. It's long, tedious and I hate the down time. I have a 4 hour block of English in the mornings, then psychology and then math. It's the best day ever. No sarcasm involved with that statement at all. I'm in the computer lab trying to get some of my homework started just so I don't have so much to do this weekend. I've lost concentration; thus, blogging is what I'm doing instead.
My mood from Monday that I miraculously turned around is back. Not evident you say? Well go fist fuck yourself has been the response I've been saying in my head all day. Apparently, you're not allowed to say such things out loud. Who knew? My inner monologue is angry and tired today. I left at the same time I did last week because traffic makes me a bit annoyed, choleric, cross, enraged, exasperated, furious, grim, heated, hot, huffy, incensed, indignant, inflamed, infuriated, in high dudgeon, irascible, irate, ireful, livid, mad, outraged, passionate, perturbed, piqued, provoked, raging, resentful, riled, sore, upset, wrathful. But today I made it to school in record time and was a half hour early. I could have slept that half hour!
For the record, I just took all of those words out of the thesaurus. I have no originality and needed to not use the word angry anymore. From now on I'm going to try to work huffy, in high dungeon, perturbed and wrathful into my lexicon. I want to turn heads.
I'm also slacking on working BFF into my personal word etymology.
See how the vocab words I'm doing in english are working into my life. Next I'll be talking about my lilliputian patience and my Kafkaesque sense of humor. Sick in the face.
I started this blog in the hopes that it would kill some time; unfortunately, it's only been twelve minutes. I still have an hour before I have class. BOON!
Yes, perhaps it is a good idea for you to have a dictionary handy when reading my blogs. Unless they're really cross. Then you'll need a strong sense of the english language to decipher my incoherent babbling, swearing and indignance. Ok, I need to stop.
On a horrifying note today I was chased by a ball of hair! It scared the shit out of me. I was walking back to my car and the wind picked up then out of nowhere a huge and thick ball of hair floated at me. It was black and beyond gross. I literally ran and screamed. I know that people saw me. Do I care? No. I just didn't want it to touch my feet! What if it got stuck in my toes and I had to touch it? OH GOD! I'm feeling a bit like retching right now. Yuck!
On a sick and disgusting note I've discovered I am a freak about oil shine on my face. I really am. Before I never noticed the shine and or feel, but now I am constantly using the face wipes I bought. Let me just say one word. GAG! I never knew. I never thought it was that bad!
I'm done.
Peace out homeslices!
Wednesdays are my long days. No work for EL Diablo today, just school from 8am until 5:50pm. It's long, tedious and I hate the down time. I have a 4 hour block of English in the mornings, then psychology and then math. It's the best day ever. No sarcasm involved with that statement at all. I'm in the computer lab trying to get some of my homework started just so I don't have so much to do this weekend. I've lost concentration; thus, blogging is what I'm doing instead.
My mood from Monday that I miraculously turned around is back. Not evident you say? Well go fist fuck yourself has been the response I've been saying in my head all day. Apparently, you're not allowed to say such things out loud. Who knew? My inner monologue is angry and tired today. I left at the same time I did last week because traffic makes me a bit annoyed, choleric, cross, enraged, exasperated, furious, grim, heated, hot, huffy, incensed, indignant, inflamed, infuriated, in high dudgeon, irascible, irate, ireful, livid, mad, outraged, passionate, perturbed, piqued, provoked, raging, resentful, riled, sore, upset, wrathful. But today I made it to school in record time and was a half hour early. I could have slept that half hour!
For the record, I just took all of those words out of the thesaurus. I have no originality and needed to not use the word angry anymore. From now on I'm going to try to work huffy, in high dungeon, perturbed and wrathful into my lexicon. I want to turn heads.
I'm also slacking on working BFF into my personal word etymology.
See how the vocab words I'm doing in english are working into my life. Next I'll be talking about my lilliputian patience and my Kafkaesque sense of humor. Sick in the face.
I started this blog in the hopes that it would kill some time; unfortunately, it's only been twelve minutes. I still have an hour before I have class. BOON!
Yes, perhaps it is a good idea for you to have a dictionary handy when reading my blogs. Unless they're really cross. Then you'll need a strong sense of the english language to decipher my incoherent babbling, swearing and indignance. Ok, I need to stop.
On a horrifying note today I was chased by a ball of hair! It scared the shit out of me. I was walking back to my car and the wind picked up then out of nowhere a huge and thick ball of hair floated at me. It was black and beyond gross. I literally ran and screamed. I know that people saw me. Do I care? No. I just didn't want it to touch my feet! What if it got stuck in my toes and I had to touch it? OH GOD! I'm feeling a bit like retching right now. Yuck!
On a sick and disgusting note I've discovered I am a freak about oil shine on my face. I really am. Before I never noticed the shine and or feel, but now I am constantly using the face wipes I bought. Let me just say one word. GAG! I never knew. I never thought it was that bad!
I'm done.
Peace out homeslices!
Monday, September 8, 2008
just had to get this out
It's been a long day so far. I'm practically falling asleep while typing this. I watched Office Space this weekend and when I heard the line "Looks like somebodies got a case of the Mondays!" My eye spasmed, but today its true. I'm crabby, tired and fed the fuck up. I really don't like rushing to school from work, from class to class and then home in traffic. It pretty much ranks up there with my version of hell.
I'm in a mood. In fact Satan would say I'm in rageful mood. Case and point, take a look at the text I sent her while sitting in traffic this morning, while late to work of course. "This car can parachute onto a max facility prison barbed wire fence and if he survives while he's picking the metal spikes from his face and body the guards release the dogs that rip him to shreds and if he survives that that the guard in the sniper tower gets confused and shoots him in the face. That's what he deserves." Obviously rage to me means not having to use punctuation or proper sentence structure.
Perhaps I'm in a mood due to undue stress and drama that is my life. Ian called me last night and wanted to talk about his drama. I might sound mean, but honestly I don't give a flying fuck. I know that he's stressed out and that his mom was in the hospital but I feel like this is possibly just an excuse to start the twisted relationshit (thanks for the word Satan!) up again. When he called me on Friday freaked out, I did the comforting that he expected but my inner monologue went a little like "why is he calling me? why not his girlfriend? or his best friend?"
When it came down to it all I can think is that he still thinks of me filling those rolls. I've tried hard as hell to step away from that and besides cutting off all contact I'm not sure what to do. I'm at a crossroads because I can honestly say I would love to keep him as a friend but he isn't letting me. I'm not ok with never talking to him again, but at the same time I can't keep this sick act up. Every time I hang up from one of his calls, even if it's happy, I feel like a piece of my heart is missing. I don't want to be with him, but I don't want to lose him. I can't win. I know it's my fault for not being stronger, I just need to vent about the situation.
I can't let it go on but I can't it go.
It is funny how my moods correlate to his calls, I was fine all weekend. Now this week will be shit because I will torture myself by going over the whole thing over and over in my head. When he doesn't call for a while then I feel this sense of freedom, but in the back of my mind I think "why hasn't he called? I wonder what he's up to."
Josh has been a positive in my life lately, I know he's actually my friend. No bullshit, no double standards, no lies, and he's a hundred percent decent. He actually cares about me, about my trivial existence. He wants to talk about my shitty days, he wants to talk about my boring class, or my road rage. He'll even go so far as to talk about my romantic conquests. I say conquests because mostly they're comical. He cares about my feelings. It's refreshing and terrifying at the same time. I love talking to him because he always makes me feel better, he's funny and makes me laugh and above all I care about him too. I think he's just as scared of life as I am. Who knew someone I once had a meaningless friendship and casual sex with could end up being one of my closest confidants? He and Satan are my best friends. True and true.
I absolutely love looking over these computer terminals when people stand up and leave. It's comical to see who was sitting right across from you for the last hour and never seeing their face. You never know who it'll be. The guy with the hideous Timberlands and reeking cologne was actually a girl. Hmm, interesting.
I think the point of this whole rambling blog was to say "Yes my life is bad, but it's also really good!" I need to read this when I've had a shitty day, worse than this one and reflect. I think I've started to really think about existence ever since I started my psych class. Death and Dying, Life and Living. I just thought I would be really morbid for the next few months. It's surprising how much I think of life instead of death in this class. It's like an hour and twenty minutes of me wanting to get out there and live my life. Strange.
I'm feeling a bit existential today.
See! Just putting this all into writing makes me feel better. I am still crabby about the Ian thing. I can't say anything to him because he'll turn it around on me and say that I'm being insensitive, so for now I will continue to be his rock. Then wean him off until the next drama happens. Who knows maybe it'll be his turn to be there for me. I guess our twisted relationship does have some good in it after all.
Alright, off to class. Jesus lady, tone it down on the Old Spice. You're a girl. Pish.
I'm in a mood. In fact Satan would say I'm in rageful mood. Case and point, take a look at the text I sent her while sitting in traffic this morning, while late to work of course. "This car can parachute onto a max facility prison barbed wire fence and if he survives while he's picking the metal spikes from his face and body the guards release the dogs that rip him to shreds and if he survives that that the guard in the sniper tower gets confused and shoots him in the face. That's what he deserves." Obviously rage to me means not having to use punctuation or proper sentence structure.
Perhaps I'm in a mood due to undue stress and drama that is my life. Ian called me last night and wanted to talk about his drama. I might sound mean, but honestly I don't give a flying fuck. I know that he's stressed out and that his mom was in the hospital but I feel like this is possibly just an excuse to start the twisted relationshit (thanks for the word Satan!) up again. When he called me on Friday freaked out, I did the comforting that he expected but my inner monologue went a little like "why is he calling me? why not his girlfriend? or his best friend?"
When it came down to it all I can think is that he still thinks of me filling those rolls. I've tried hard as hell to step away from that and besides cutting off all contact I'm not sure what to do. I'm at a crossroads because I can honestly say I would love to keep him as a friend but he isn't letting me. I'm not ok with never talking to him again, but at the same time I can't keep this sick act up. Every time I hang up from one of his calls, even if it's happy, I feel like a piece of my heart is missing. I don't want to be with him, but I don't want to lose him. I can't win. I know it's my fault for not being stronger, I just need to vent about the situation.
I can't let it go on but I can't it go.
It is funny how my moods correlate to his calls, I was fine all weekend. Now this week will be shit because I will torture myself by going over the whole thing over and over in my head. When he doesn't call for a while then I feel this sense of freedom, but in the back of my mind I think "why hasn't he called? I wonder what he's up to."
Josh has been a positive in my life lately, I know he's actually my friend. No bullshit, no double standards, no lies, and he's a hundred percent decent. He actually cares about me, about my trivial existence. He wants to talk about my shitty days, he wants to talk about my boring class, or my road rage. He'll even go so far as to talk about my romantic conquests. I say conquests because mostly they're comical. He cares about my feelings. It's refreshing and terrifying at the same time. I love talking to him because he always makes me feel better, he's funny and makes me laugh and above all I care about him too. I think he's just as scared of life as I am. Who knew someone I once had a meaningless friendship and casual sex with could end up being one of my closest confidants? He and Satan are my best friends. True and true.
I absolutely love looking over these computer terminals when people stand up and leave. It's comical to see who was sitting right across from you for the last hour and never seeing their face. You never know who it'll be. The guy with the hideous Timberlands and reeking cologne was actually a girl. Hmm, interesting.
I think the point of this whole rambling blog was to say "Yes my life is bad, but it's also really good!" I need to read this when I've had a shitty day, worse than this one and reflect. I think I've started to really think about existence ever since I started my psych class. Death and Dying, Life and Living. I just thought I would be really morbid for the next few months. It's surprising how much I think of life instead of death in this class. It's like an hour and twenty minutes of me wanting to get out there and live my life. Strange.
I'm feeling a bit existential today.
See! Just putting this all into writing makes me feel better. I am still crabby about the Ian thing. I can't say anything to him because he'll turn it around on me and say that I'm being insensitive, so for now I will continue to be his rock. Then wean him off until the next drama happens. Who knows maybe it'll be his turn to be there for me. I guess our twisted relationship does have some good in it after all.
Alright, off to class. Jesus lady, tone it down on the Old Spice. You're a girl. Pish.
Friday, September 5, 2008
green fairy, more like wtf
I will never drink Absinthe and or Ice House again. The combination turned me from a happy drunk into a raving lunatic. This is the story of just that occasion.
A few weeks ago I went over to Nelson and Jase’s house. I’ve been hinting that I’m going to relay this story into print for a while now. I guess I just kind of got over the whole I’m embarrassed thing. Eh, who cares?
I had already had a few before I went over there and was feeling fine. Like Satan says, booze makes everything better. So, so true! Anyway, I got over there and they we’re drinking Absinthe. Which if I’m not mistaken may still be illegal in the U.S., I’ve had it before but only in small doses. They we’re drinking it wrong when I got over there and I corrected them. I had a three small glasses. I’d say shots but it’s not a liquor. Anyway after that I started drinking the bomber cans of Ice House. It was disgustingly delicious, because at that point I couldn’t tell the difference.
After two beers I went out into the living room to watch TV. At this point things got black for my memory but Nelson relayed the whole story to me the day after. I can’t believe the things I did. But unfortunately I do believe him because he pointed out that I apologized like 180 times. A major characteristic when I’ve been drinking.
While on the couch watching there huge television and them sitting in the kitchen watching me, I apparently booped myself for like a half hour. For those of you who don’t know what booping is I feel bad for you because you’re missing out. Anyway, they watched me entertain myself for thirty minutes and then some of them joined me to watch TV. I’m not sure what was on but for some reason I got on a leg kick.
That’s right I talked about legs. And how it’s so weird that we have them, how thighs are weird and how it’s weird that people can walk. I apparently would not shut up about legs. I then proceeded to rub everyone thighs, not in a dirty way, I asked. Rather in a 'isn’t it ironic' way. But none the less Jase made it uncomfortable when he clamped down on my hands and then excused himself for like half an hour. Everyone howled with laughter. I don’t remember any of this.
After that I went back in the kitchen and sat on Nelsons lap and helped him play cards. When I say helped I mean I told him what to do and not subtly. Also I didn’t even know what he was playing so I’m not sure I was being very helpful. He recanted that to me almost crying he was laughing so hard, so I’m guessing I made a teeny bit of an ass out of myself.
Apparently after that I locked myself in the bathroom and threw up. I guess I took my pants off at some point also. Don’t know how I got home. All I remember is having a horrible headache the next day and not having any underwear on. I know for a fact that I went over there with some, that’ll be a mystery that will haunt me forever.
And some time after that I cried and said "I want my Daddy!" I sort of don't believe the Daddy thing, but I'm sure I cried. Then I begged Nelson to take me home. I had driven over there so Jase drove my car back and I drove with Nelson. Jase denied this but Nelson said he refused to drive with me, either he was really embarrased or thought I was a lunatic and would take us off the road. Either way.
I remember vividly sitting in the sun in my grandparent’s back yard telling Satan that I didn’t feel so hot. And that I didn’t remember what had happened. I didn’t even call Nelson until that night because I figured I didn’t want to know. When I heard the story I decided to promise myself that I would never drink Absinthe or Ice House ever again!
And that folks is my Absinthe/Ice House story, don’t say I didn’t warn you…
A few weeks ago I went over to Nelson and Jase’s house. I’ve been hinting that I’m going to relay this story into print for a while now. I guess I just kind of got over the whole I’m embarrassed thing. Eh, who cares?
I had already had a few before I went over there and was feeling fine. Like Satan says, booze makes everything better. So, so true! Anyway, I got over there and they we’re drinking Absinthe. Which if I’m not mistaken may still be illegal in the U.S., I’ve had it before but only in small doses. They we’re drinking it wrong when I got over there and I corrected them. I had a three small glasses. I’d say shots but it’s not a liquor. Anyway after that I started drinking the bomber cans of Ice House. It was disgustingly delicious, because at that point I couldn’t tell the difference.
After two beers I went out into the living room to watch TV. At this point things got black for my memory but Nelson relayed the whole story to me the day after. I can’t believe the things I did. But unfortunately I do believe him because he pointed out that I apologized like 180 times. A major characteristic when I’ve been drinking.
While on the couch watching there huge television and them sitting in the kitchen watching me, I apparently booped myself for like a half hour. For those of you who don’t know what booping is I feel bad for you because you’re missing out. Anyway, they watched me entertain myself for thirty minutes and then some of them joined me to watch TV. I’m not sure what was on but for some reason I got on a leg kick.
That’s right I talked about legs. And how it’s so weird that we have them, how thighs are weird and how it’s weird that people can walk. I apparently would not shut up about legs. I then proceeded to rub everyone thighs, not in a dirty way, I asked. Rather in a 'isn’t it ironic' way. But none the less Jase made it uncomfortable when he clamped down on my hands and then excused himself for like half an hour. Everyone howled with laughter. I don’t remember any of this.
After that I went back in the kitchen and sat on Nelsons lap and helped him play cards. When I say helped I mean I told him what to do and not subtly. Also I didn’t even know what he was playing so I’m not sure I was being very helpful. He recanted that to me almost crying he was laughing so hard, so I’m guessing I made a teeny bit of an ass out of myself.
Apparently after that I locked myself in the bathroom and threw up. I guess I took my pants off at some point also. Don’t know how I got home. All I remember is having a horrible headache the next day and not having any underwear on. I know for a fact that I went over there with some, that’ll be a mystery that will haunt me forever.
And some time after that I cried and said "I want my Daddy!" I sort of don't believe the Daddy thing, but I'm sure I cried. Then I begged Nelson to take me home. I had driven over there so Jase drove my car back and I drove with Nelson. Jase denied this but Nelson said he refused to drive with me, either he was really embarrased or thought I was a lunatic and would take us off the road. Either way.
I remember vividly sitting in the sun in my grandparent’s back yard telling Satan that I didn’t feel so hot. And that I didn’t remember what had happened. I didn’t even call Nelson until that night because I figured I didn’t want to know. When I heard the story I decided to promise myself that I would never drink Absinthe or Ice House ever again!
And that folks is my Absinthe/Ice House story, don’t say I didn’t warn you…
Thursday, September 4, 2008
b&e bitches
Back to my B&E...
Nel called me on Sunday night and told me that one of his friends was in some trouble. At first I thought he just needed me to go get him or who knows what, I was wrong. He asked me to go over to the guys house and get his wallet and get money for bailing him out. Easy enough right?
I wondered why I was needed for this plan but didn't ask. I figured I owed him this for being so nice about that morning. (I literally raced for the car to get the hell out of there. Walk of shame? No. More like sprint of shame.) Apparently the guy had pissed on a cop car. Really not something I would ever suggest doing. Possibly he wasn't sober? I'm not sure.
Nel was going over to the bar where he got arrested because they took him into custody with his keys and the guys he was with had no ride home. Thus, I needed to secure the $12oo that they needed to get him out. I'm imagining the Mission Impossible theme song right now, just so you can better picture this next part.
I drove over to the guys house, he lives pretty close to me so it was a short trip. I went over there thinking there would be a key for me to get in. No such luck. I had to break in. All the while I was on the phone with Nel getting instructions and he never mentioned this. I wrote down pin numbers, were the wallet would be, the address and such all while thinking he had a hide-a-key somewhere. I asked before I got out of the car and Nel was like no, just go in the back door.
Our conversation went a little like this:
Me: Excuse me? Is it open?
Him: No. Just pull the screen door really hard?
Me: What the hell?
Him: The back door will be open you just have to pull the screen door hard. The lock is fucked up.
Me: Umm ok.
Him: Oh and don't wake the neighbors they're redneck dicks.
Me: Redneck dicks with guns?
Him: Just get the hell back there.
Me: Fine, jesus!
So I'm creeping along in the yard, which by the way have we heard of a fucking lawnmower? This shit is up to my hips. At this point I was sort of thinking, this is a joke right? Is someone going to jump out and shout ha ha? Or am I going to be dragged around back and raped? The things that roll through your mind in the dark, I swear.
I round the house and the gate is huge. I'm thinking how in the hell am I going to get over that? And at this point on the phone I can hear the two drunk guys get into his car and start fighting.
Me: Is the gate locked?
Him: No, just reach through and pull it open. What did you think I'd make you climb over it?
Me: Thank god.
I got through the gate and everything was well lit because of this huge fucking floodlight. I locked the gate and went up to the door. The screen door is all I have to get through right?
Me: The fucking thing wont open!
Him: Pull harder!
Me: I am pulling hard, fuck you!
Him: Fuck off, I'm telling you if you pull it hard enough and the right way it'll open!
Me: Ok, so there is a technique I'm missing? Why the hell didn't you tell me there was a way to do this?
Him: For the love of god.
At this point I was getting a little upset. When I get upset I tend to swear and become incoherent. He mentioned this and that may have set me off a little bit...
Me: I CAN'T FUCKING GET IN FUCK THIS SHIT!
Him: Ok, calm the fuck down!
Me: Don't tell me to calm down!
Him: Alright, I'm sure he'd rather have a broken screen door than be in jail. Bust the motherfucking screen out, but for the love of god do it quietly. I can't afford to bail you out too!
Me: What? No way. Someones going to hear.
Inside I was excited as hell, but I wanted him to convince me because that way I could feign innocence if someone did get mad at me. I wanted him to think it was his idea. I was already eyeing up a lawn chair to bust that fucker out. My internal monologue said maybe that size of an object was a bad idea. Hmm. What else? Nothing...
Hello Mr. Patio Chair.
Me: Ok, all I see is chairs. This might be loud.
Him: This is going to be bad. Very bad.
Me: Shut up. It's fine, we're fine. I'm fine. I'll be quiet.
My insides were screaming "YOU'RE DOING A B&E! WOO HOO!" Obviously my priorities had shifted from errand for a friend to mark this off of my things to do in life list. But alas, somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking "Oh god, this could go wrong. What if someone hears me?" Then the voices in my head took over and said "Fuck it, DO IT, DO IT!"
My hand trembled as I picked up that chair. But I persevered. I used the legs to bust through the screen. The adrenaline rush was enough for me to text Satan "Fuck booze, fuck drugs, lets be burglars!" Yes, I was still a little high from the rush, I'm sorry booze. I'll never speak badly of you again. Moving on.
Once I got the door open with minimal noise I heard a rush of air coming from the phone. Exhaling because it went well? Oh ye of little faith. I'm awesome, why was there ever a doubt in your mind that I couldn't do this? I'm a fucking natural. I made it through the door in the dark.
Me: Does he live with someone?
Him: No why?
Me: Why do I hear breathing?
Him: What?!!
Me: Seriously, this isn't funny!
Him: Oh yeah he has a dog.
Me: A big dog that likes to eat intruders? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE LIGHTS?
Him: (Laughing/trying to cover up the fact that he's doing it)
Me: This isn't funny you asshole, I'm going to trip and kill myself?
It turned out to be a big dumb lab named Spock that was breathing heavy, personally I think he should quit the years of smoking doggie cigarettes. And he was a sweetheart! I almost wanted to steal him and pretend that he got out. He was so cute!
Me: Thanks for scaring twenty off of my lifespan you dick.
Him: Just get the cards and get out.
Me: Hmph.
Thus concludes my B&E 2008. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. It was an experience I'll never forget. I can't wait to talk Satan into doing it for real.
Nel called me on Sunday night and told me that one of his friends was in some trouble. At first I thought he just needed me to go get him or who knows what, I was wrong. He asked me to go over to the guys house and get his wallet and get money for bailing him out. Easy enough right?
I wondered why I was needed for this plan but didn't ask. I figured I owed him this for being so nice about that morning. (I literally raced for the car to get the hell out of there. Walk of shame? No. More like sprint of shame.) Apparently the guy had pissed on a cop car. Really not something I would ever suggest doing. Possibly he wasn't sober? I'm not sure.
Nel was going over to the bar where he got arrested because they took him into custody with his keys and the guys he was with had no ride home. Thus, I needed to secure the $12oo that they needed to get him out. I'm imagining the Mission Impossible theme song right now, just so you can better picture this next part.
I drove over to the guys house, he lives pretty close to me so it was a short trip. I went over there thinking there would be a key for me to get in. No such luck. I had to break in. All the while I was on the phone with Nel getting instructions and he never mentioned this. I wrote down pin numbers, were the wallet would be, the address and such all while thinking he had a hide-a-key somewhere. I asked before I got out of the car and Nel was like no, just go in the back door.
Our conversation went a little like this:
Me: Excuse me? Is it open?
Him: No. Just pull the screen door really hard?
Me: What the hell?
Him: The back door will be open you just have to pull the screen door hard. The lock is fucked up.
Me: Umm ok.
Him: Oh and don't wake the neighbors they're redneck dicks.
Me: Redneck dicks with guns?
Him: Just get the hell back there.
Me: Fine, jesus!
So I'm creeping along in the yard, which by the way have we heard of a fucking lawnmower? This shit is up to my hips. At this point I was sort of thinking, this is a joke right? Is someone going to jump out and shout ha ha? Or am I going to be dragged around back and raped? The things that roll through your mind in the dark, I swear.
I round the house and the gate is huge. I'm thinking how in the hell am I going to get over that? And at this point on the phone I can hear the two drunk guys get into his car and start fighting.
Me: Is the gate locked?
Him: No, just reach through and pull it open. What did you think I'd make you climb over it?
Me: Thank god.
I got through the gate and everything was well lit because of this huge fucking floodlight. I locked the gate and went up to the door. The screen door is all I have to get through right?
Me: The fucking thing wont open!
Him: Pull harder!
Me: I am pulling hard, fuck you!
Him: Fuck off, I'm telling you if you pull it hard enough and the right way it'll open!
Me: Ok, so there is a technique I'm missing? Why the hell didn't you tell me there was a way to do this?
Him: For the love of god.
At this point I was getting a little upset. When I get upset I tend to swear and become incoherent. He mentioned this and that may have set me off a little bit...
Me: I CAN'T FUCKING GET IN FUCK THIS SHIT!
Him: Ok, calm the fuck down!
Me: Don't tell me to calm down!
Him: Alright, I'm sure he'd rather have a broken screen door than be in jail. Bust the motherfucking screen out, but for the love of god do it quietly. I can't afford to bail you out too!
Me: What? No way. Someones going to hear.
Inside I was excited as hell, but I wanted him to convince me because that way I could feign innocence if someone did get mad at me. I wanted him to think it was his idea. I was already eyeing up a lawn chair to bust that fucker out. My internal monologue said maybe that size of an object was a bad idea. Hmm. What else? Nothing...
Hello Mr. Patio Chair.
Me: Ok, all I see is chairs. This might be loud.
Him: This is going to be bad. Very bad.
Me: Shut up. It's fine, we're fine. I'm fine. I'll be quiet.
My insides were screaming "YOU'RE DOING A B&E! WOO HOO!" Obviously my priorities had shifted from errand for a friend to mark this off of my things to do in life list. But alas, somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking "Oh god, this could go wrong. What if someone hears me?" Then the voices in my head took over and said "Fuck it, DO IT, DO IT!"
My hand trembled as I picked up that chair. But I persevered. I used the legs to bust through the screen. The adrenaline rush was enough for me to text Satan "Fuck booze, fuck drugs, lets be burglars!" Yes, I was still a little high from the rush, I'm sorry booze. I'll never speak badly of you again. Moving on.
Once I got the door open with minimal noise I heard a rush of air coming from the phone. Exhaling because it went well? Oh ye of little faith. I'm awesome, why was there ever a doubt in your mind that I couldn't do this? I'm a fucking natural. I made it through the door in the dark.
Me: Does he live with someone?
Him: No why?
Me: Why do I hear breathing?
Him: What?!!
Me: Seriously, this isn't funny!
Him: Oh yeah he has a dog.
Me: A big dog that likes to eat intruders? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE LIGHTS?
Him: (Laughing/trying to cover up the fact that he's doing it)
Me: This isn't funny you asshole, I'm going to trip and kill myself?
It turned out to be a big dumb lab named Spock that was breathing heavy, personally I think he should quit the years of smoking doggie cigarettes. And he was a sweetheart! I almost wanted to steal him and pretend that he got out. He was so cute!
Me: Thanks for scaring twenty off of my lifespan you dick.
Him: Just get the cards and get out.
Me: Hmph.
Thus concludes my B&E 2008. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. It was an experience I'll never forget. I can't wait to talk Satan into doing it for real.
Monday, September 1, 2008
kissing brothers
I started this post on Monday night but was exhausted and couldn't finish...
I've been having a weird holiday weekend. Back to the real world tomorrow. I know its over said and overstated in this blog, but why? I could use another two days! Sigh, oh well. While I get my whining out lets recap this bitch. Labor Day 08' - Eh, it was ok.
First off, before I start I'd just like to say that I am fucking gullible! Like no kidding. My horoscope told me I was awesome on Friday. I believed it. Yes, I also believed when someone told me that they misspelled gullible in the dictionary, dick. I'm trusting. Up until a certain point. When you cross that line, you cross me. Then you're dead to me, so watch yourself!
Second off, now that you've read the gullible thing I want to share a text I sent to people last week. "I just convinced myself my car was haunted. I put my water on the window button. Special. I know." I really did freak myself out for a few. Feel free to laugh at me. I do all the time. It scares all of the voices in my head, then they have no idea whose in charge. He he he.
On Wednesday, I was in my last class of the day, my math teacher is special. He's from Zimbabwe. I've mentioned him I believe. Anyhoo, he was trying to show us how to download a program that will help us with our assignments and such. Darn'd if I can figure out how in the hell he downloaded iTunes... I was texting Satan and I looked up and he was confounded. I'm so glad I'm paying you to teach me. Then he wrote on the projection screen, the one that comes down from the ceiling. I told Satan they should take it out of his paycheck. I kind of want to tattle on him. Subpar teachers...
My weekend started off with a mutant fly story. Ok, so SFB went home early again. Shocker, I know. Well , I went up front and I was immediately hit with a buzzing noise, being the paranoid bug freak I panicked. Once I determined it was just in fact a fly I calmed down, except that little fucker wouldn't leave me alone. I was going to let him live until he fucked up. He had the audacity to land in my hair. Oh no you didn't! Anyway it was on. It was a total game of cat and mouse. He was a little mind fucker. Land where I couldn't reach him, then fly at my face. I say this all with grudging respect because he punked me. I finally got him, I hit him with a piece of paper and boom goes the dynamite. I felt victorious. I even sent Satan a picture of his remains. As I was typing my victory dance to her it became very apparent that he was not dead. The horror that happened with that realization is captured here. "I am the fly killing master! Ok, I almost feel bad for it. I'm a horrible person. OMG. It's leg twitched! He's still alive! Oh god, maybe I just knocked him out. Fuck he's still twitching." Can you hear the remorse I had, then the utter horror when I realized he was still alive? Well, me being the pussy that I am I just pushed him off to the farthest reaches of the reception desk and ignored him. Then all hell broke loose, he was in motion and then in flight. The little bastard flew at my face! I was bested by a fly, I don't want to talk about it.
On Saturday night I had this brilliant idea to seduce Nelson. The night before Bryan had pretty much told me to start hanging out with that crew more. It got a little tense when I thought he was implying that Satan was a bad influence. He covered his ass nicely on that, saying he loves her even though he's never met her.
Anyway, I digress. So on Saturday night I was on a mission. Nelson and I have been mind fucking each other lately and I decided to do something about it. Satan put me up to it, ok she encouraged it but didn't tell me to do it. I feel better blaming her sometimes. Just kidding Satan, you know I love ya!
Back to the topic at hand. Nelson invited me to his place on Saturday night to "watch movies/hang out" I'm not stupid I know what that's code for. Hell, I think I might have invented that code. So on Saturday when Bryan text me and was being a dick I decided to test the waters of Nelson. It didn't go so well, if it did I don't think I'd be writing about it.
He had a ton of people there, I decided to bow out gracefully and cancel. I actually had drinks with SF#1 which was weird. She normally likes to do one of two things, eat and go to movies. Thus drinking was out there for even her. Anyway, while we were hanging out Nelson text me and convinced me to go out there. It helped that I had a few. I went over there and per usual it was in full swing. Card playing booze, tv and video games. I didn't feel like mingling so I just grabbed a beer and sat next to Jase on the couch. I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned Jase in this thing before so here's a quick run down:
Jase is Nels younger brother, he is the guy who asked me out after Bryan moved down South. He's actually really nice. Except for the whole prejaculation thing. Yeah, I wont go into it because it was embarrassing but needless to say I wont be going there with him ever. But, that said I'm pretty sure there are still some feelings under the surface with him. Also there was the whole Absinthe/Icehouse mess. I'll post about that one later.
He didn't really talk to me, which was in a word awkward. When he finally did start talking to me it was an invitation to go and watch a movie in his room. The guys we were in the living room with were really into some Discovery Channel across the globe show. So I agreed, we went down and I can't even remember what he put in. I buried myself in covers and settled in. I figured since I was stuck I might as well be comfortable. We made small talk about how tired he was and how much he had to do the next day, yada yada yada. Then we sort of made out and all I have to say is he's the best kisser ever. I knew in the back of my mind that nothing was going to happen so we stopped. He asked me to sleep with him. In his room, not the other way. Gutter brains. Anyway, I agreed because it was warm and comfy down there but I had to pee and get water. I told him I'd be right back and left.
I never went back. VBP. I went upstairs and Nel motioned me to go into the bathroom with him. Where he proceeded to make out with me! So essentially I made out with brothers in the same night and technically they made out with each other. I had this sick fantasy that I related to Satan in wondering if he could taste him on me? I'm deranged. He said he was going to bed and that I should join him. Sweet! Plan in action. Unfortunately he was very PG13 and we didn't do much. He asked me to stay and I agreed. He likes his room freezing so I was submerged in the blankets up to my nose. All he slept with was a sheet. A few times it was nice when we cuddled. IT WAS WARM. NO EMOTIONS INVOLVED. Just survival.
When I woke up on Sunday early I had a very guilty conscious. I made him drive me home immediately. I was terrified to run into Jase after sleeping with his brother. I'm a whore from the waist up, well that night I was anyway.
On Sunday afternoon I text Jase and asked him if he felt better and got enough sleep. He text back and said yes and asked if I got enough sleep in his brothers bed. FUCK! I totally thought I got away with it too. I called Bryan and told him the half lie story about just sleeping in Nels bed. He didn't need to know that I had gone over there with lust in my heart. Also I wasn't sure that Jase wouldn't just call him and tell him something too, but apparently in that case blood is thicker than water.
SF#2 wanted to go and see Pineapple Express on Sunday night. It was pretty funny. On our way out I get a call from Nelson. I was semi terrified because I wasn't sure at this point if he was mad at me or if he and Jase had talked or what the hell was going on. But I answered, why? Because if there was a chance for dramz I was taking it. I'm a slave to dramz. Alas, it was not dramz. But it was the best night ever!
I TOTALLY DID A B&E!
It was awesome!
I'll have to post about that in my next blog because this is getting long. Maybe I'll do it when I go up front for the day.... We'll see.
I've been having a weird holiday weekend. Back to the real world tomorrow. I know its over said and overstated in this blog, but why? I could use another two days! Sigh, oh well. While I get my whining out lets recap this bitch. Labor Day 08' - Eh, it was ok.
First off, before I start I'd just like to say that I am fucking gullible! Like no kidding. My horoscope told me I was awesome on Friday. I believed it. Yes, I also believed when someone told me that they misspelled gullible in the dictionary, dick. I'm trusting. Up until a certain point. When you cross that line, you cross me. Then you're dead to me, so watch yourself!
Second off, now that you've read the gullible thing I want to share a text I sent to people last week. "I just convinced myself my car was haunted. I put my water on the window button. Special. I know." I really did freak myself out for a few. Feel free to laugh at me. I do all the time. It scares all of the voices in my head, then they have no idea whose in charge. He he he.
On Wednesday, I was in my last class of the day, my math teacher is special. He's from Zimbabwe. I've mentioned him I believe. Anyhoo, he was trying to show us how to download a program that will help us with our assignments and such. Darn'd if I can figure out how in the hell he downloaded iTunes... I was texting Satan and I looked up and he was confounded. I'm so glad I'm paying you to teach me. Then he wrote on the projection screen, the one that comes down from the ceiling. I told Satan they should take it out of his paycheck. I kind of want to tattle on him. Subpar teachers...
My weekend started off with a mutant fly story. Ok, so SFB went home early again. Shocker, I know. Well , I went up front and I was immediately hit with a buzzing noise, being the paranoid bug freak I panicked. Once I determined it was just in fact a fly I calmed down, except that little fucker wouldn't leave me alone. I was going to let him live until he fucked up. He had the audacity to land in my hair. Oh no you didn't! Anyway it was on. It was a total game of cat and mouse. He was a little mind fucker. Land where I couldn't reach him, then fly at my face. I say this all with grudging respect because he punked me. I finally got him, I hit him with a piece of paper and boom goes the dynamite. I felt victorious. I even sent Satan a picture of his remains. As I was typing my victory dance to her it became very apparent that he was not dead. The horror that happened with that realization is captured here. "I am the fly killing master! Ok, I almost feel bad for it. I'm a horrible person. OMG. It's leg twitched! He's still alive! Oh god, maybe I just knocked him out. Fuck he's still twitching." Can you hear the remorse I had, then the utter horror when I realized he was still alive? Well, me being the pussy that I am I just pushed him off to the farthest reaches of the reception desk and ignored him. Then all hell broke loose, he was in motion and then in flight. The little bastard flew at my face! I was bested by a fly, I don't want to talk about it.
On Saturday night I had this brilliant idea to seduce Nelson. The night before Bryan had pretty much told me to start hanging out with that crew more. It got a little tense when I thought he was implying that Satan was a bad influence. He covered his ass nicely on that, saying he loves her even though he's never met her.
Anyway, I digress. So on Saturday night I was on a mission. Nelson and I have been mind fucking each other lately and I decided to do something about it. Satan put me up to it, ok she encouraged it but didn't tell me to do it. I feel better blaming her sometimes. Just kidding Satan, you know I love ya!
Back to the topic at hand. Nelson invited me to his place on Saturday night to "watch movies/hang out" I'm not stupid I know what that's code for. Hell, I think I might have invented that code. So on Saturday when Bryan text me and was being a dick I decided to test the waters of Nelson. It didn't go so well, if it did I don't think I'd be writing about it.
He had a ton of people there, I decided to bow out gracefully and cancel. I actually had drinks with SF#1 which was weird. She normally likes to do one of two things, eat and go to movies. Thus drinking was out there for even her. Anyway, while we were hanging out Nelson text me and convinced me to go out there. It helped that I had a few. I went over there and per usual it was in full swing. Card playing booze, tv and video games. I didn't feel like mingling so I just grabbed a beer and sat next to Jase on the couch. I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned Jase in this thing before so here's a quick run down:
Jase is Nels younger brother, he is the guy who asked me out after Bryan moved down South. He's actually really nice. Except for the whole prejaculation thing. Yeah, I wont go into it because it was embarrassing but needless to say I wont be going there with him ever. But, that said I'm pretty sure there are still some feelings under the surface with him. Also there was the whole Absinthe/Icehouse mess. I'll post about that one later.
He didn't really talk to me, which was in a word awkward. When he finally did start talking to me it was an invitation to go and watch a movie in his room. The guys we were in the living room with were really into some Discovery Channel across the globe show. So I agreed, we went down and I can't even remember what he put in. I buried myself in covers and settled in. I figured since I was stuck I might as well be comfortable. We made small talk about how tired he was and how much he had to do the next day, yada yada yada. Then we sort of made out and all I have to say is he's the best kisser ever. I knew in the back of my mind that nothing was going to happen so we stopped. He asked me to sleep with him. In his room, not the other way. Gutter brains. Anyway, I agreed because it was warm and comfy down there but I had to pee and get water. I told him I'd be right back and left.
I never went back. VBP. I went upstairs and Nel motioned me to go into the bathroom with him. Where he proceeded to make out with me! So essentially I made out with brothers in the same night and technically they made out with each other. I had this sick fantasy that I related to Satan in wondering if he could taste him on me? I'm deranged. He said he was going to bed and that I should join him. Sweet! Plan in action. Unfortunately he was very PG13 and we didn't do much. He asked me to stay and I agreed. He likes his room freezing so I was submerged in the blankets up to my nose. All he slept with was a sheet. A few times it was nice when we cuddled. IT WAS WARM. NO EMOTIONS INVOLVED. Just survival.
When I woke up on Sunday early I had a very guilty conscious. I made him drive me home immediately. I was terrified to run into Jase after sleeping with his brother. I'm a whore from the waist up, well that night I was anyway.
On Sunday afternoon I text Jase and asked him if he felt better and got enough sleep. He text back and said yes and asked if I got enough sleep in his brothers bed. FUCK! I totally thought I got away with it too. I called Bryan and told him the half lie story about just sleeping in Nels bed. He didn't need to know that I had gone over there with lust in my heart. Also I wasn't sure that Jase wouldn't just call him and tell him something too, but apparently in that case blood is thicker than water.
SF#2 wanted to go and see Pineapple Express on Sunday night. It was pretty funny. On our way out I get a call from Nelson. I was semi terrified because I wasn't sure at this point if he was mad at me or if he and Jase had talked or what the hell was going on. But I answered, why? Because if there was a chance for dramz I was taking it. I'm a slave to dramz. Alas, it was not dramz. But it was the best night ever!
I TOTALLY DID A B&E!
It was awesome!
I'll have to post about that in my next blog because this is getting long. Maybe I'll do it when I go up front for the day.... We'll see.
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