ITEMS THAT WILL GO TO THE GRAVE WITH ME: My movie poster box. I stole this from a video store I used to work at. It hangs from chains and can be plugged in at the back to light the inside up (behind the poster) and all the little lights around it. In terms of valuable assets, this is number 1. Unless an embarrassingly large collection of cheap videos counts (read: ‘Head over Heels’)
I cannot find any compelling reason, not to go downstairs, buy a bottle of wine and finish off the cake in the freezer. WORK: Only 9 hours away. SHOULDA PUT A BURGER RING ONNIT.
I have $70 in my bank account! I have seventy. Dollars. In my bank account. Option A) ration out 1cm slices of two month old birthday cake. Option B) peanut butter smeared on a playing card. Duff gardens HOOORAAAAAY : /
Tea, dear.
“There are the parents who suffer deeply and genuinely, because their son (or daughter) does not love them, and who, simultaneously, ignore, oppose or attempt to destroy everything they know of their son’s convictions, values and goals, never thinking of a connection between these two facts, never making an attempt to understand their son. The world they never made and dare not challenge, has told them that children love parents automatically.” (via niki)Do any of you relate to this? Do you agree? Do you disagree? I feel sometimes that the world that I live in, is a world that my mother just doesn’t understand. I do believe however that deep down she would want to feel closer to me. But just can’t listen, or open her mind to it. I know, for sure, that there are truths about the world that she knows, that I want to hear. Things that I don’t think she would ever tell me, unless we got closer. Is she truly selfish? Does she not want to know me - truly know me? How do you get to that place with someone so set in their ways?
Took too much cold & flu drugz. 60mg of Pseudoephedrine per pill, six pills today. 360mg of P. Gonna vom. Lookin at a banana on my desk. Gag. Gonna vom. Wondering what would make this sickness go away… maybe coffee. Nope, too brown. Gonna vom. Jebus I am so spaced right now. Did you know in NZ you only get 30mg of pseudoephedrine in your cold pills? That is OUTRAGEOUS. Lucky I found these anti-histimine / anti-inflammatory mash-ups that I bought in the U.S. - 96 PILLS PER BOX!!! I could run a meth lab with this shit. Also! Vom.
I’M SICK. LIKE CHOKING CANT DRINK WATER LET ALONE VODKA SICK. OH LORD WHY DO YOU SMITE ME TO SUCH LEVELS OF SMOTENNESS????? I have been feeling shit for past two weeks, and of all the days for it to get worse, it happens today?? HOW IRONY. So here are the test results from a month of sobriety:
Argle bargle or fooferah? I am not even kidding right now. It was the biggest waste of time EVER, all I can do with it is say that I DID IT. I have lost 0.0% fat. I have vowed to punch my nutritionist in the back of her head. And I am 100% sure that I am going to punch my mother in the smoo for giving me such a crap immune system. ME = LATE ABORTION.
To those who have started following this blog in recent months, depending on how far back you went, will depend on how well you have gotten to know me. So if you haven’t, above is a link to a video which I would say, sums me up completely. Click it. Watch it. Embrace it. It is the greatest thing to have ever been found on the internet ever. With this coming in a very close second.
KILL ME NOW THIS IS AWFUL. I cannot believe how boring life is without alcohol? Who are these people that are sober? How the fuck do you get through life? Even this post is boring? I have NOTHING. Nothing of interest to tell you. My boyfriend went to an art gallery opening tonight with free booze. FREE. That’s zero point zero down payments on GETTING CRUNK. I am so gaybones for SAUVIGNON
This is devastating, as the only cure is 30,000 peices of peanut butter toast.
Oh hi, um, I’d like to report a raping. “Yes ma’am. Can you tell me what happened?” Well, I don’t really know, I mean, it was a blur… I was just standing there making a cawfee in the kitchenette, and the next thing I know my face hit the floor. I heard a loud stomping noise and turned around to see him pounding the ground with his heels like a bull. The freezer door was open and he had grabbed a bite-sized Moritz Ice-cream. He screamed at full volume and threw the entire thing into his huge mouth, which appeared to be engorged and drooling everywhere, like, well… like my vageen. “What? Ma’am, can you describe the attacker please? Did he rape you?” Yes, well, he was very large. Huge gorilla like arms and the biggest stomach I have ever seen in my life. He was wearing an N’sync greatest hits T-shirt that was bursting at the seams, and ironically, ‘skinny jeans’. I was so scared. “MA’AM, DID HE RAPE YOU?” Not me…*sob* Moritz… *sob*. That ice-cream was my son.
Gratuitous picture of your BRAND NEW GIANT FAGGOT GLASSES. Only forty dollhairs? Originally wanted the Le Specs, but some shop bitches don’t know how TO SAY HELLO TO A CUSTOMER WHEN THEY ASK HEY HOW MUCH ARE THESE LE SPECS. Sale lost, you pregnant hooker fuck.
