So did you know that Good ‘n Plenty is an aphrodisiac for women? That’s probably why it’s called Good ‘n Plenty. If ya catch my drift.
Too bad I don’t like licorice. Or should I say, lickorice.
Now if cheesecake were an aphrodisiac, then you’d be speaking my kind of language. Using my kind of currency. Walking my doggie.
I made that last one up. Sounds good though, eh? (more…)
So a few nights ago, I offered to help an anonymous friend clean her house. Let’s call her lady.
Lady: Will you really?
Liz: Sure, I don’t have anything better to do.
Lady: Oh, Liz, I’ll eat your pussy.
Liz: *laughs*
Lady: You can’t blog that!
Just for the record, she didn’t. Sadly.
So I had this crazy dream last night. It was one of those ridiculous/ scary dreams: (more…)
Like And Then There’s Maude! You know… the show. With Dorothy from The Golden Girls. She was my least favourite girl.
I guess I just like shows and bands with ! in them. But speaking of bands with ! in them, check this out.
No offense, ballet girls:
We were listening to Panic! At the Disco before ballet, and they knew the songs…? Yeah. They had been getting old to me for about 3 weeks now, so I just stopped listening to the CD… but then I realized that I just don’t like them anymore. I mean, I’m just tired of the music. And, lets face it, (watch me as I make fun of myself) I just don’t like bands when they’re not “cool” anymore.
“Hey Liz, have you heard of that new band ______?”
“New? Psht. Yeah, like a year ago…”
I’m such a pretentious bitch. That must be the punk in me. (more…)
So do I really look like a rabid bunny when I laugh?
So. Bunnies are cute. and fluffy. much like myself. and those Matt dogs.
I would like to thank Melanie Holis for making me not look like Cinderella Barbie. For dress rehearsal, my skirt was some kind of purpley blue lame’ irridescent BULLSHIT. I looked like a 4 year old playing dress up. I’m serious, I had Barbie clothes made out of that same material. But Melanie so graciously stayed up into the wee hours of the morning and made me a whole new costume. Ah, Melanie. (more…)
Bitemarks In My Pencil
In Section 9.2, you learned that a sequence whose consecutive terms have a common difference is an arithmatic sequence. In this section, you will study another important type of sequence called a geometric sequence. Consecutive terms of a geometric…
They were both aching with desire. He clumsily slid his hand up her skirt, caressing her upper thigh. Her muscles twitched nervously as she bit her bottom lip and kissed his neck. Travelling upward, she tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, and he began…
…so the sequence a1, a2. a3. a4, …, an, … is geometric if there is a number r such that…
…fingertips across her breasts, she clutched onto the mattress. She unbuttoned his shirt, and she aimlessly and wildly kissed his chest. He climbed atop her, and she unbuckled his…
…is the common ratio of the sequence. The sequence whose nth term is 2n is geometric. For this sequence, the common ratio of consecutive terms is 2.: 2, 4, 8, 16, …
… inside of her, she quivered in utter delight of the feeling. With her arms wrapped tightly around him, he slid himself in and out, gently. She dug her fingernails into his back, so he took at as his cue to…
…but the ratio of the third term to the second term is a3/a2 = 9/4. In Example 1, notice that each of the geometric sequences has an nth term that is of the form arn, where the common ration of the sequence is…
… thrusting harder and harder, sweat dripping onto her bare chest. She grabbed his firm bum, pulling him in deeper, sighing a quick breath each time he hit her spot. This drove him crazy, and the headboard began to slam against the…
…exponential function whose domain is the set of natural numbers. The nth term of a geometric sequence has the form an = a1r(n-1) where r is the common ratio of consecutive terms of the sequence. So, every geometric sequence can be written in…
… deeper and heavier, when finally all of her muscles tightened, and she let a mad, uncontrolled shriek. She felt him release as he continued to thrust into her. Their muscles relaxed, his thrusting became weaker, and his warm fluid seeped onto the sheets. He kissed her deeply; he caressed…
… is on pages 640 through 643, numbers 11 through 48, and numbers 60, 63, and 72. I’ll see you all on Tuesday. Have a safe weekend.
I mean Hog. Horseface.
So here’s something that almost made me piss with laughter from indietits.com:
That’s probably my favourite one.
I wish those fing pictures would load. I tried to load them all yesterday. On and off. They wouldn’t load. I’ll holler if they don’t.
Holler back.
The other night at the theatre, someone asked me what time it was. Wanting to be a smartass, I replied, “Time for…” and I couldn’t think of anything smartass to say. After a long pause, Michael, homo of the year, says, “…poontang.” Yes, Michael. It is, indeed, time for poontang.
Can I really be a breeder if I’ve never bred? Bread?
I’ve been having dirty dreams lately. I haven’t told any of them. To anyone. I’m embarrassed. Not really because they’re dirty… it’s just the nature of the dirt. It involved Matthew, if that’s what you all were wondering. I think it’s just because it’s cheesey. No, not like licking cheese off of one another (Zephyr), but… soap opera sex. You know how it is.
After a long ceremony, an eager young couple cross the threshold into their honeymoon suite. The groom overzealously lays his bride, with her multilayered tulle and tafetta gown, onto the bed. With no amount of tact or heed, he anxiously ruffles through the layers of her gown as she giggles with excitement.
I saw that on TV when I was about 6 years old, and it enthralled me. Ever since then, I’ve wanted to get married.
And that’s the only reason. The only.
But yeah, I’ll write about my dream one of these days, you just won’t know it was my dream. I’ll just pretend it’s another one of my dirty, dirty stories.
Mr. West’s class, anyone? I don’t even take notes in there anymore. I’m such a 14 year old boy.
So I sent Matt my ear yesterday. And by ear, I mean suprise. That’s right, my virginity. You guessed it. First Class. Workin’ Order.
I also sent Sean that CD I’ve had for well over 2 years. Jimmie’s Chicken Shack. It’s an excellent CD. And you know what? I just got around to ripping the tracks yesterday at 12:30.
“Computer music is where it’s at.”
- Matt
I gots devil music on my computer.
Alley Jo came over the past two days. She just got back from New Orleans because her boyfriend is working there. At any rate, she went to the Hustler store and bought a porno for her and her boyfriend. Lesbian Orgies. She also bought me some stuff and made me a package. (Get it, package?) I won’t tell you what’s in it.
But anywho, before she left, her mom, who works at First State Bank on Reelfoot Avenue, told her, “Take what you need to be safe.” Alley replied, “Never say that again, please.” She’s on the patch.
One of my friends sent me this message. Names have been changed for the protection of individuals:
-beware of “salt”-
So I was having a pretty normal dream last night, considering how dreams are surreal and dreamlike anyway. After several events that I cannot recall, I find myself in Gizzard’s arms again. I have an idea to put peanut butter all over myself, naked, and then Gizzard does the same. *blushes profusely* Then we proceed to start licking each other, like it’s the most desirable, pleasurable action ever, sort of like getting makey outey. Then, someone hears about it on the grapevine, and it becomes the new thing to do - it’s hotter than sex, in the sense of it’s the new trend in lustful things. Everyone’s covering themselves in peanut butter and lickin’, not banging. Though I’m sure the ones who bang do both. Mmyeah. Weird. :..
(fin).
So there you go. My friends are weird, too. And that fin at the end makes me indie, right, Matt?
Some women get really ugly when they’re pregnant. I look at them and think, “How the fuck did you get impregnated?” Then I remember that pregnancy takes a toll on some ladies. I’ll be a cute pregnant. If I ever get pregnant. At least I hope I would be a cute pregnant.
Like anyone would hope to be an ugly pregnant.
Today, I wore that little jacket that I’m wearing in that picture. It’s one of those hip and trendy cropped jackets that all the coolest femmes wear. Everytime I wear it, without fail, some creepy old man says, “Your jacket is too small for you,” and thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world.
What I do: Laugh, smile, and say, “no, it’s supposed to be like that, hehe…”
What I want to do: Rip it off and kick his ass, balls first. Or at least say, “Shut up, it’s not funny. It wasn’t even funny the first 72 times I heard it.”
Any suggestions on what I should do next time? Every time I wear this thing, I always see that creepy guy who works at the co- op. Do you know who I’m talking about? Ugh.
Ugh. That’s what I said when Johnny Depp asked me for my number. Sure, he may be talented, but he’s no Matt Callis.
Bear rug. I would blog that, but it may embarrass him. However, he did want me to blog a detailed description of one of our… escapades…
But I’m not brave enough to do so.
And I’m sure not all of you want to imagine me doin’ it.
Who am I kidding. Pervs.
Workin’ Order.
Thrust You.
I bet acid is really good. Better than shrooms.
“Where should I blow it?”
- Davo.
Don’t do shrooms, kids.
“Don’t do acid, man. It will FUCK YOU UP.”
If you don’t know from what movie that is, I’ll hurt your children.
Oh yeah, my new nickname is Peanut. “Don’t call me peanut at work, Doodlebug. We’ve talked about this.”
So in movies, especially scary movies, when someone is listening to rock music, it all sounds the same:
DUNUNUNUNUNUI’MLISTENINGTOROCKNUNUNUNUNUNUNUNUI’MLISTENINGTOROCK
You just had to be there. Oh wait.
Alley and I went to Maurices. She likes to live through me, so she picked out about 5 dresses for me to try on. I picked out 3. She got a pair of cropped pants, which I -told- her were going to make her look fat. She just assumed that was the anorexic in me. Not all of them were that memorable, so I’ll just name a few. Oh yeah, and we were in the same changing room. And I was wearing blue panties, a black strapless bra, white fluffy socks (4 year old girl style) and 4 inch open toed pumps. That really is nessecary for you to know. And when I took a dress off, I threw it on the floor and she put it on a hanger for me. Because I’m 7.
1. Whoops, can’t wear a bra with this one. Good.
2. This one makes me look like a million bucks. I wish I had money. I would buy it. But why would someone put horizontal stripes at the waistline? That’s gay.
3. Green one that alley picked out. It had some crazy elastic junk in it that made me look like I had back fat rolls. “TAKE IT OFF, IT BURNS!”
4. This one was a joke. It was ivory. It had a sparkley bodice. It tied at the waist. It had layers of ruffles. And I almost couldn’t get it over my ass (I stepped into it).
Alley: Take your bra off. I can’t take you seriously unless there are nipples involved.
Liz: I’m blogging that.
Yet she could take me seriously with a pink sticker on my forehead that read, “SPECIAL.”
And yes, before I took the dress off, she went through my ruffles. She owed me a favour.
Alley: Hey! Something blue! (referring to panties)
Liz: And my dress is ivory! I’m a whore!
At this point, I was laughing so hard that I almost pissed myself
Liz: I’m going to piss myself!
Alley: Well put your pants on!
Anywho, we tried to get the dress off, but pulling it up over my head, I couldn’t get it over my boobs. I forgot that they were naked, so I turned around to Alley Jo, as she hid in the corner with her hands over her face, screaming, “Get them away from me!” And you know, I’d do the classic tell-her-I-put-them-away-but-they’re-really-in-her-face move. It’s the Dirty Sanchez of flashing. Just think if I had a penis. I would be one of those guys. You know.
5. The bra is still off. This is a short, strappless, semiruffley little number.
“OMG, Your nipples are looking at me!”
Liz: I look like I’m going to my 5th grade cotillion. I think it’s the socks.
We didn’t buy anything. An eventful shopping experience, yet anticlimactic.
So in conclusion, Brad had an abortion over Christmas break.
The bad news is that I lost it the hard way. No, not through diet and exercise, the other hard way. Through vomit and starvation. No, not like 9th grade Liz. Like sick Liz. Holy Gah, was I sick. I finally managed to keep down some Ramen noodles last night. (pronounced RAYmen, you idiot. This is ‘marica.) I was soooo sick. Almost as sick as I was that one time when my mum found me passed out in the bathroom. That was funny. Well, not at the time, we thought I was dying. But it’s funny looking back at it. Kind of like Viet Nam.
I had a dream that I killed a Zombie with my bare hands.
I should blog this before I forget. This happened about 2 weeks ago, but let’s pretend this was recent:
So I was at work earlier today, and I looked really freaking hot. I was wearing my Dom boots, and these really hot jeans. I went to write something down on the board in the colour room, and I did some rearranging in there (okay, my jeans were kind of tight… and I bet everyone rearranges in the color room). Suddenly, I felt a breeze. I looked down, and, alas. I had an inch-long rip in the crotch of my pants. When I was getting ready, something told me I should have worn underwear. I was mildly embarrassed. I shuffled (nice descriptive verb) to the bathroom to safetypin my crotch together. From the inside. And all I had were those big safetypins. Not only was it cold on my noonie, it was pokey. And not in the pleasurable sense. I was sweeping, and one came undone. It hurt. I repinned it and was good for the night. I don’t think anyone saw, though, because I’m sure they would have told me. I would tell you if your crotch was showing. Especially if you weren’t wearing panties.
I should have learned from that time at Paducah in the mosh pit. At least I was wearing cute panties that time.
I had a really good proposition one time, one that I had waited for my whole sexual life, but didn’t take it up, because I was wearing ugly panties. I guess I could have gone into the bathroom and taken them off.
Dammit, Liz. Now you think of it. 2 years later.
So Thursday night. What a night. More dudes showed up than expected, but that was okay. We played Battle of the Sexes, and I won. I kicked ass. Does that mean I’m a lesbian? I hope not. I like boys too much.
mmm… sid vicious… mmm…
Anywho, after the boys left, we watched Wedding Crashers for a bit. The weird boy in that movie was hot. What’s his name?
We went outside. I peed in the front yard. It’s really liberating to be naked in public. I wasn’t really naked. I had a fig leaf. An ivy leaf, but I called it my biblical underwear.
Then I called Jim from Beth’s laundry basket. What a trip.
Then I woke up in time for work. Karma is a bitch.
Speaking of, that chick wrote me again. I haven’t written her back, though. She seemed really apologetic, though.
I painted a germ with teeth. Mine and Matthew’s first child.
When my aunt was 15, she peed on a boy at the beach. He never called her back.
What was your favourite cartoon as a child? Mine was Captain Planet. Who’d have thunk? I’ve always been a tree hugger. I had the lunchbox, the valentines, the underwear (yes, they were made for boys), the teeshirt, etc. People made fun of me. Kids can be so cruel.
I got Strawberry Shortcake valentines this year. I look like Strawberry Shortcake, all grown up. And what the hell is with the jeans? Strawberry shortcake doesn’t wear jeans! She wears green and while leggings. Geez.
Same thing with My Little Ponies, Carebears, and TMNT. What the hell.
WTF, mate?
So in conclusion, you should all download google talk. It’s sooooo much better than MSN messenger. When all of the people who I care about get google talk, I’m uninstalling MSN. It is the suck.
Currently watching: A big fucking snake.
Holly had a weird dream about me. Well, regarding me. Steve wanted to have a child, but Holly didn’t, so Steve stopped taking his birth control, and he got pregnant. Belly and all. Holly was pissed/ embarrassed, so Steve told people that it was a beer belly. Then he went into labour, and they (tadah) gave birth to a beautiful 13 pound Liz. However, my head was the size of an adults, and my body was a baby’s. The doctor handed me to them, and I looked at Heve’s fear-filled faces and muttered, “HI!”
I bet I was hard to pass through Steve’s urethra.
I have 1112 views.
Speaking of the aforementioned creepiness, the weirdest thing happened to me today. You know, old people can say strange, scary, sometimes prophetic things. This old woman with Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s grabbed my hands today and whispered, “We killed him.”
Liz: Who did we kill?
Lady: We killed the one we feed.
Liz: What?
Lady: You don’t love.
Liz: I love everyone.
Lady: If you don’t love, THEN GOD WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN!
Then a nurse came in to give the woman her meds. I walked out, and the woman kept staring at me. This scared the hell out of me.
I know, I’m the type of person who thinks that everything means something, everything is a sign, an omen, but this is really freaking me out. Tell me what you think. Is this woman prophetic or just senile? Is this a huge turning point in my life, or is this just a crazy old woman? I’d like your opinion.
Like, a month ago, I asked everyone to tell me what your auras and souls look like, and nobody told me. I was disappointed. Assholes.
Dan called me while I was at rehearsal last night. Andy Milonakis was on and he wanted to watch it together. That’s fun. He used to piss me off so bad watching that when we were on the phone… hahaha. Use more inflection. Dan, you are a trip, and I’m sorry for not calling you back. I was going to earlier, but then I remembered you have a “normal” family that may be eating dinner, and God knows I mustn’t do anything else to make ton mere me dispise.
What’s so funny, pretty boy? Why are you laughing? You’ve got dimples! Do you blush? Drop and give me twenty!
Remember the episode of Ren and Stimpy when they went to boot camp, and the drill sargeant told Ren to give him twenty, and Ren gave him a twenty dollar bill? And the first time they got in trouble, they had to peel potatoes. The second time, watermelons. The third time: H bombs. Classic.
“Your eyes are like diamonds…”
hahha.
I lost 4 pounds this weekend. Thank you, Saltines! Thank you!
I’m always sad when I’m not smiling.
“That’s not living. That’s just existing.”
- Mr. Moore
Sometimes he feeds us bullshit propaganda, but sometimes he actually knows what he’s talking about.
Are you a thinker or a feeler? I’m a feeler. I feel, don’t think. Some of my closest friends think, don’t feel. My mum thinks and doesn’t feel. This evens me out. Thinkers may be more successful, they may have more things work out than feelers, but holy, feelers are so much happier. Some may not know it, but we are.
Another difference between me and my mum: She dwells on the past, I dwell on the future. She worries about things that have already happened and are finished. I worry about things that haven’t happened and probably won’t happen.
My mommy loves me : )
My dad and I used to have such an amazing relationship. Did that end because I grew up? Because I’m a woman now? Because I have tits and an ass, and he can’t see me as the little girl whom he taught how to change oil, with whom he used to eat pizza and watch I Love Lucy, who would laugh at his obnoxious jokes because she was too young to realize they were obnoxious? I understand. I really do. When my daughters grow up and don’t want to be fairies anymore, it will make things weird. Like, “who is that woman?” weird. But I still want to be a fairy.
So this ended up as one of my more serious blogs. Sorry. My next one will be goofier. I promise. Potatoes.
Last night, I had the filthiest dream.� I know, nothing new, but I really did not like this one.
Hillary Duff and Hunter (no idea why it was them) got me into the pornography business.� Not just softcore type Playboy stuff, but hardcore porn.� Nasty type stuff.� Like Missy Monroe. -shudders-.� (no milk was involved).� I became a leader in the business, and I was -proud- of myself!� Wtf, mate?� I realized that this was only a dream when I was dreaming, but I couldn’t get myself to snap out of it.� I woke up disgusted with myself and took a shower.
But you see… whenever I haev nightmares, real ones, like someone’s cutting me up into little pieces, or someone has skinned Pete and hung him up in the laundry room, or my brother is eaten alive by clowns, I don’t realize it’s a dream.� I think it’s real, and it scares the fuck out of me.� I don’t think there is any way out, because, geez, if someone had you chained down and is chopping you up, piece by piece, wouldn’t you give up?� Alot of the time, I don’t realize it was a dream until minutes after I wake up.
In September, when Jade and I were just planning our trip to New York, I dreamt that my mum bought us tickets to see Spamalot… and they were only $4 each.� I woke up, went to school, and all day, I told people of my great news.� I went to work and told people.� I came home, hugged my mum, and thanked her.� “For what?”� It was then that I realized it was a dream.� I felt like such a rube.
There are so many other instances that prove that I can’t differentiate between fiction and reality, but for some reason, I could last night.
But before I forget, one of my friends had a really weird dream, but he wouldn’t tell me before I told him “the most fucked up dream I’ve ever had.”� I told him about when I went to the family reunion, and my mum ran away from me, screaming, because my forehead was bleeding in the shape of a cross…
…
…But anywho, this friend of mine– let’s call him…Snoopy….–� dreamt that he had sex with his sister.� Not only did he dream that he had sex with her, but he said that it was the most graphic sexual dream he’s ever had.� No, folks, he’s -not- from Tennessee.� He’s Canadian.
Some stuff at the hospital fell through, and I won’t start working with Dr.�Norsworthy until next week, so I went to the nursing home with Hogg and Sarah.
This is what Miss Dolly told me:
1.� I look pregnant.
2.� I look 30.
3.� I look 11.
4.� Her vagina hurts.
5.� Her hemerroids are bleeding.
She also asked me what it was like to have sex with Ernesto, her hot physical therapist, because, apparently, I’m sleeping with him.� I’m sure Hog told her that.� Thanks, Hog.� Oh, and she told me I was a bitch for calling Hog Hog.� Actually, Sarah and I were mean to Hog yesterday, but we’re always mean to her.� She’s little and we pick on her, but only because we love her.
She was in my bathroom yesterday reloading and Sarah and I kept openning the door.� Ah, friendship.
Also, at Beth’s party, we were watching unfaithful (a very dirty movie… I like it) and we were talking through the whole thing.� However, Hog whispered something to Beth at the end of the movie, and I yelled, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, HOG!”
Icky sent me some of his music.� I’m quite impressed.
Oh yeah, old people.� Miss Zelma told me that she loved me and asked me to be her lover.� She kept hugging me and patting my ass.� Miss Georgie, who has severe Alzheimers with Parkinsons, was playing with her dolls, making them kiss (nakedly, of course) was playing with this pillowcase for an hour, trying to get it straight across her little table.� That reminded me of myself, to an extent.� She stuttered so much that one can’t really understand what she was saying, but they told me that she�doesn’t know�what she’s saying, either.� I helped her wrap her baby up in the pillowcase.� When Sarah tried to help, she hit Sarah with her doll, and said, “No, Daddy!”� I did all I could to keep from pissing myself.
“I don’t wannna play no damn bingo!� Now get the hell out of here!”
-� Some mean fat lady, who isn’t even old.� She’s just in the Nursing Home because she’s too fat to live by herself.
I really like Franz Ferdinand : )
“You need to order me some more of that hemrroid medicine, you good lookin’ thang, you!”
-� Miss Dolly
Last night, Jade came over.� We went to eat Chinese, then we went to Blockbuster.� Justin, the guy from the documentary, isn’t half as cute as he used to be.� I don’t quite understand that.� Well we got 2 movies, which we have never heard of:� May and Madhouse.
Madhouse made me think… I bed the people in Sanitoriums get worse because they are in there… they’re expected to act crazy.� The nymphomaniac, Crystal… I’m sure before she was put in there, she didn’t masturbate in her doorway, full frontal like that.� She’s just doing it because she’s expected to, and she can.� I mean, if it was socially acceptible to drop your pants anywhere, wouldn’t you?
Then we watched May.� That was quite interesting.� A weird girl who nobody liked made her own friends.
“So many good parts, but no good wholes.”
Pete and Trixie are spooning each other at my feet.
At midnight, Alley Jo came over.� She overanalyzes everything.� Like I always told Coach Suiter, you can’t have the word “analyze” without the word “anal.”
Oh, and I like my car present, Mark : )
I’m going to hang out with Steve and Holly.
“EAT IT, YOU SILLY HAMSTER!; EAT IT! EAT IT! EAT IT!”
- Robby, Tony Little’s little brother.
So after he said that, I came very close to pissing all over myself for the second time tonight. (my mum had a funny dream, what can I say) I ran to the bathroom, and when I came back, the hamster in turn pissed on me. Hairy little big assed bastard.
This kid is so funny. He says things that he has no idea are hilarious, or he thinks are hilarious for another reason. I did something weird, and he hit his head on the wall. Tony laughed and was like, “Liz, you’re making him hit his head on the wall.” And he started hitting his head repeatedly. Kids do that alot… you know, when adults think something’s funny, they do it repeatedly, even if they don’t think it’s funny, or don’t understand why it’s funny, but then they do it so much that it’s no longer funny, but annoying.
He had all these magic tricks, and it seriously took me about 5 times to figure out how he was making that wand float… I’m an idiot : )
So we went deer humping tonight… me and Mark and Tony. Tony’s friend Brittny went with us for a little bit, but she got on my nerves a little. She’s the type who thinks it makes her cool that she gets drunk, etc.
Anywho, since I first humped deer my freshman year, people started either staking them into the ground or just not putting them out. So the only deer we could really get to were the ones at Aloha Pools and Spas, and most of those were staked into the ground.
When we left Tony’s for Aloha, we let his 13 year old brother Alex come with us. It didn’t hurt anything, and I’m sure it meant alot to him. I mean, when I was younger, I loved hanging out with my brother and his cool friends.
I hear that watch ticking and it’s pissing me off.
Erick has a girlfriend.
Ben is leaving on the 28th… I’ll miss him, and I know Jade will be really upset, but I miss having her all to myself, you know? Is that bad?
Wow, I’m wearing the same camisole that I’m wearing in that picture.
Speaking of pictures, Rob got me a digital camera. Isn’t that nice of him? I thought that was very cool.
Davo Davo Davo Davo Davo Davo Davo. Davo p0wns. Once Davo and Walter came to my house and stayed looking at ytmnd’s until 2AM… on a school night. Crazy kids : ) So there, Davo. I blogged about you. Happy now? Bitch? Oh yeah, that was the last straw with the ex boyfriend… he got all pissy when Davo came over, and DAVO DIDN’T ASK HIS PERMISSION. Wtf, mate?
I really need a tortilla right now. Someone come to my house and give me a tortilla. Better yet, mail me one. Seriously.
721 High St.
Union City, TN 38261
I wonder how many moldy tortilla-grams I’ll get in the mail.
So last night, I had the strangest dream. I won the Miss USA pageant. I couldn’t find an evening gown that I liked, so I went out in my camoflague skirt and my boots… and got best dressed. Then there was a costume section, and everyone else was wearing slutty type or really pretty costumes… I was a giant lobster. There was a hood that came over my head that had the eyeballs sticking out of it, and everything. For the bathingsuit part, I wore pasties, and the judges thought that it was really cool that even though I’m kind of fluffy and really pale, I’m still confident enough to wear pasties. For the talent part, I played and sang NoFX’s “Whoops I OD-ed”, and at the end, I did the robot… in a tutu. I don’t remember what the question was, but I forgot the name of the pageant, and they thought that was really cute. I tried to figure out what the hell this dream could mean, but MAV says it means that even though I’m not the Beauty Queen Girl Next Door type, people still like me. I think he may be right : )
However, Ashley and mum have talked me into being in my school’s I’m-Prettier-Than-You contest… my mum is really excited, because she thinks I have a chance, because I’m “pretty and poised,” but Ashley and I are doing it, because A.) It’s kind of funny, and B.) we get junk at project graduation for doing it. Yes, yes, I’m going to project graduation… it’ll keep me off the streets… of Union City…
I got cool stuff for Xmas: chocolate, sockies because my feets get cold, Buzzcocks 7 in, and (dun dun dun) A WEEZER DVD!!!
Three hours of nonstop weezer madness! WEEZER WEEZER WEEZER WEEZER WEEZER! *does the cabbage patch*
We watched it the other night, and wow. So cool. I love it.
Mark’s little sister Kayla got lots of makeup and she hardly wears any. I found that hilarious.