Monday Bear

So yesterday, I hung out with Zephyr in Jackson. This was the only Good Friday that I hung out with her in Jackson that I -didn’t- have a wreck.
We went to Gunther Tootie’s a ’50’s diner where they have cool uniforms and funny potties. Now tell me this:

What’swith the little hump/lump/indention on the back of the seat? I don’t understand.
However, that photograph was taken immediately after I peed there… and flushed.
But please please, tell me… what’s with the hump?

Liz: Trixie’s been humping things lately.
Zephyr: Jackin’ off.

Then we read dirty novels aloud at BooksaMillion.
That was fun. Check out the title of thisun:

That’s right… “I Thirst For You.” It was right next to a book called “I Hunger For You.”
They were by the same author, of course. In the same series, no doubt. They were about vampires, but I didn’t know that until I got to the part where
“he drew his fangs upon her erect nipple, taking it into his mouth and suckling.” Here’s a selection:

Can you believe it said “cock”? Yeah, it said cock. It wasn’t a pornographic novel, just a “Romance” novel.
I read romance novels like crazy when I was thirteen, and never once did I -come- across one that said “cock”.

Garlic: It hurts so good.

Hey, that’s kind of like my acidic cavity. It burns so good.

Oh, and just for kicks:

Beaver… *teeheehee*

So we were in the bathroom at the Jackson mall, and it was disgusting.
Jackson is a dirty dirty place. Not as dirty as Hickman, KY. Jelly. Not as pretty as Nashville.
Anywho, as I was tinkling, I looked down and saw a withered frenchfry.

Then some large women came in, and Zephyr and I stayed in there for a bit to listen to their conversation.
One informed the rest that she was “strugglin’.” We left then, to avoid laughing too loudly and embarrassing them.
Everybody struggles sometimes. Except me. I’m like lightnin’, baby. Like when I poop.
It seriously takes me a minute or less to poop. I’m a fast pooper. Most of the time, I pee longer than I poop.
It’s crazy. So I can poop at anyone’s house and they won’t know it. I probably have pooped at your house, because I poop twice a day.
Sometimes thrice; it depends on what I’ve eaten.

Matt’s a fast pooper, too. That’s why we fell in love.
That’s the only reason. I think he said something about writing a book about our fast pooping relationship.
Like, everything in our relationship will be based on pooping quickly in this book.
Quick poopin’ skills. We can go to dinner parties and poop together, and nobody would know.
They would probably think we left for a quickie. But no, quite the opposite.
No, the opposite of a quickie is a longie.
When I say quickie, I mean it in the sexual way. Not in the poopin’ way.
But no, we’d actually be going to poop.
Then when we came back 2- 3 minutes later (depends on the size of the house), they would be like,
“Oh, they didn’t have sex, they just peed or had a short talk.” But little did they know, we pooped.
We probably had a short talk, too. Depends on how close the toilets were to each other.
I think married people’s bathrooms should have 2 toilets in them.
Because isn’t it a special thing when two people are pooping at the same time?
Especially when they’re phone poopin’.
“Hey guess what I’m doing?”
“Masturbating?”
“No! I’m pooping!”
“OMG, Me too!”
“OMG! This is crazy!”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Little Bear.”

Just for the record, Little Bear is what Steve calls Holly. Gah, my friends are so weird.

…

But when I went to Matt’s house, I pooped like, 4 times.
And I think when he was over here I only pooped a couple times. I was nervous the first time he was over here.
It’s just hard for some people to poop away from home. I guess 4 times poopin’ in one week is pretty healthy.
My mom would kill to poop 4 times in one week. Sometimes when I go somewhere, I poop more than usual.
Like when I stay with Aunt Reenie in Omaha, I poop alot. Not alot of poop, just more often.

I think I’m finished talking about poopin’.

Oh, no I’m not. I meant to put this up where I was talking about Matthew’s poopin’ habits.
Once, before we were dating, we were talking online, and he said, “I’m going to the bathroom and I’m going to take you with me.”
When he said “going to the bathroom,” I didn’t know if he meant relieving himself or just oging to do other bathroom activities.
And if he meant relieving himself, was he pooping or peeing? But then I found out he was pooping,
because he said that the computer was too hot and it was burning his legs.
Then he said, “okay, I’m back,” and that’s how I found out he was a fast pooper, too.
That’s when I knew I loved him.

Not really, but wouldn’t that be a good falling in love story?
I won’t tell the real story to you folks in blogform… it will take away from my hxc image, don’t you think?

But that is when we decided to write the pooping romance book.
Get it, but, butt?

Bird?

You can’t hide ordinary.

So tonight I hung out with Jade. We had sex.

And by sex, I mean conversation and cake.

I wrote on her wall with a permenant marker. She invited me to. This is what I wrote:

That’s an inside joke between me and Jade. You don’t get it. But I bet you still think it’s funny.

All of my friends are so much hotter than I am. I mean most of my friends.
Jade and Zephyr are. Holly is. Probably more are.

Jade made me a dress out of crepe paper. Next weekend, we’re going to make each other dresses out of crepe paper and wear them out on the town.
To Applebee’s. That’s where The Ross works.

We played with green “Travel PlayDough.” It doesn’t stick. She made and elephant.
I made a penis. Naturally.

I started to make an uncircumcised one, because it would be funny, but it was too -hard-, because I’ve never seen one in real life.
On an adult. I’ve seen plenty on babies. Usually one per baby. Usually on the boys though.

Are you a character from a romantic poem?

Somehow the other night, Matt thought that I said something about if we have children,
I wouldn’t want the boys to be circumcised. That’s crazy. I would never say that.
Like I said, I’ve never seen an uncircumcised peepee on a big boy, but the pictures scared me.
They kind of look like egg rolls. Except gross.
So now whenever I eat egg rolls, I think about uncircumcised peepees. I usually just think about the circumcised ones.
One. Just not when I’m eating Chinese. Except that time I ate Chinese with Matt on Steve’s couchbedcouch.

When my friends and I get together, we lick things. They’re usually sexual. Like the above beaver.

When I finished playing with my Play Dough penis, I threw it at Jade. She then bit part of it off.
I would post that picture, but I’m afraid it is too graphic. So I’ll post this one instead:

Remember when the boys used to do stuff like this in the 5th grade? Yeah.

While we’re on the subject, Hog had sex. With her boyfriend.

But then we went downstairs and ate a cake right off the platter. With forks.
We fed each other. It was romantic. Then she shoved a banana in my mouth.
Then we found this stuff that her mom bought, and we found it hilarious:

Bunny Corn! Isn’t it funny? It’s alot funnier when you say it like someone from Rutherford, TN.
“Bunneh Coan.” It sounds like what people would call rabbit poop. We threw some on the floor.
“Look at all that bunneh coan on the flo’. Looks like some bunnehs been through here.”
“Hey daddeh! Daddeh! You wont some bunneh coan?”
(Notice the price on the bag) “What’s the price uh this coan?”

I love this picture. She has Bunny Corn at her nipples… but you can’t see it, so it just looks like she’s tweaking them.
She has to tweak her own nipples. She doesn’t have her own private nipple tweaker like I do…
: )

So the funniest thing happened at the grocery store. I was buying things to make cookies,
and I saw a girl and her mom in line in front of me. This girl was about 12 or 13, and she was dressed like a slut.
Short shorts, lots of makeup. This caught my attention, because when I was that age, I was the same way.
Kind of like that girl in CATS. To go to the grocery store. I noticed that her mom had a box of Monistat.
No big deal. Most women will have a yeast infection at some point in her life… it could have been the mom,
it could have been the daughter. But I just found it funny that the only two items they were buying were cheese and Monistat.
Cheese. And Monistat. That’s funny in itself. But like any preteen girl would be
, the daughter was mortified that her mom was buying this, especially with the young blonde cashier, Lance.
Lance used to stalk Jessica Jones, by the way. So the daughter made the mom buy the Monistat
and walk out of the store before the girl bought the cheese seperately and walked out of the store.
I found this hilarious, because I would have done the same thing at that age.
When I worked at Jillian’s, before I got FIRED, I bought Jill a pregnancy test at that same grocery store.
That’s pretty f’ed up if you axe me, but I wasn’t embarrassed. Bradley Hutchinson helped me find it.
That was a hoot. I just thought it was funny that out of all those women who worked there,
they make the seventeen year old high school girl get it.

I wish when Holly Tittle fired me, she would have done the Donald Trump thing and said,
“You’re Fired!” instead of crossing her arms and saying, “I just think it’s best that you are no longer employed here.”
Then I would have laughed instead of cried. Well, I still would have cried, just not as much.
And I would have laughed while crying. Like Jessica Jones.

But just for the record, while we’re talking about yeast infections
(a couple paragraphs ago), this is NOT the correct way to get rid of a yeast infection:

That’s Jade’s dad’s pellet gun. That’s my vag. ina. Dan.

I just wrote Dan’s name there, because he doesn’t like it when I say “vag.” Neither does Alley Jo,
but the reason I wrote Dan’s name was because when I write a new blog, he does Ctrl F and types in his name.
If it doesn’t come up, he only reads the first paragraph or two of the blog. Or so he says.
But seriously, who could resist my bloggy deliciousness?

So in conclusion, Leah useta be bad, ’til her mama done be knowin’ what she been doin’.
Now she good.

I saw the prettiest butterfly yesterday. I usually don’t care anything about butterflies, but I was walking around campus, and I felt it brush my arm. I turned around, and there it was in its blue and yellow…ness… ivity. I chased it around the parking lot for a good five minutes until some really pretty girl shot me a look. I didn’t think she was pretty anymore. She didn’t have a very graceful way of moving. That’s why I like spiders and snakes. It’s the dancer in me. If everyone took time out to just observe things, we would all be much happier. People ask me all the time why I’m so happy. I usually reply, “Why aren’t you?” Seriously.

I have a place to live.
I have friends.
I have good parents.
I make good grades.
I’m not starving.
I’m not dying of AIDS.
I have an amazing boyfriend who actually cares about me.
I can dance.

I guess the main reason I’m so happy is because I take time out to “smell the roses,” if you’ll excuse my cliche’. I don’t like roses, though. I like tiger lillies.
Just watch. Listen. Think. There’s so much to be happy about. And you’ll learn to appreciate the beautiful things in life. I’m pretty good about keeping in touch with my inner child (despite the fact that I’m at the ripe old age of 17… and a half…) but I don’t remember the last time I chased a butterfly before yesterday. I used to say that what I wanted more than anything else was to feel the way I did when I was 6. I got that about a year ago, and now I want to catch fireflies. I haven’t done that yet. Not since I was nine. My aunt and I caught fireflies. I kept them in a jar under my bed, then they weren’t there anymore. I think my mom threw them away.

I put a stick and a leaf in there to recreate their natural environment. If someone were to catch a human, what would they put in their jar? A piece of plastic and a computer chip? Home sweet home.

I want to go to the park. Maybe I’ll take Trixie to the park today. I would go with Holly, but she’s in Illinoi…s. I would go with Jade, but she’s camping. Everyone is on spring break. I wonder why I had to come back so soon. My house feels so empty. One of the first things Matthew said about my house when he came here was, “You don’t have much stuff.” I thought he was crazy. But I really don’t. It doesn’t really feel like home anymore. It’s time for me to move out.

Ugly men make beautiful music. Does their beautiful music make them less ugly? Ususally not, but sometimes. Like, maybe sometimes if I think about it hard enough.

So in case any of you didn’t know/ assume, I went to Matt’s house for spring break. He gave me CRAZY directions, so it took me 5 hours to get there. I was making excellent time until I got to Nashville. My first time driving in Nashville, the traffic lights went out because of the storm. Meanwhile, this part of the state was being destroyed by tornadoes. Dan called me to make sure I was okay. That was nice of him. Alley Jo called me to pick up something at the Hustler store for her. I forgot to tell her I didn’t have any money.

But I got there, and there was a living room full of people. Matt told me that his mom hated me. I thought she did until I met her. We got along suprisingly well. On the days that Matt had class all day, we went shopping. And we watched TV. And we talked about Matt. I learned alot about him that I didn’t know. I’m really glad she raised him the way she did. I have alot of respect for her.

His sister Colleen is a year or 2 younger than I. I was very curious as to how well we were going to get along. Matt was right… she’s just like him, except social. We got along very well. We went to Goodwill together one day while Matt was at school and Ms. Terri was taking nap. She loves chicken. I had no idea that there was such thing as Mrs. Winner’s, but there are two of them in Hermitage, TN alone.

So on the way to school with Matt, I was reading his tests in the floorboard of his car. His answers crack me up. “He got his leg eaten by a shark.” “Go realtors go.” And the ones that he kind of knew, he put a question mark after. “War honour?”

And I’m not supposed to blog that he’s allergic to menstrual fluid. So… MATT ISN’T ALLERGIC TO MENSTRUAL FLUID.
Just for the record, that has nothing to do with me. And it also has nothing to do with sex. I just refuse to tell the story for the sake of my life.

Oh, and I met his grandparents. They’re really nice. I think my hair colour got me in good with them. They have a pet ferret. I want one.

I also want one of those pet alligators like Clarissa had in her closet. His name was Elvis. She kept him in a little swimming pool.

I think on Grood Friday, Zeffer and I are going Malling. Maybe for some swimming pool cheese, too. Girls love cheese, you know. I miss her. I haven’t seen her in months.
I have so many friends who live far away. My only really convenient friends are Steve and Holly. Holly’s mom lives a block away. Steve is also walking distance.

I have a hard time getting to Ashley’s house. It takes about 20 minutes.
Jade lives waaay waaay waaay out. About 20 minutes as well.
I’ve never been to Zephyr’s house. She usually comes over here. But that takes about an hour and a half.
Dan and Lia live about 11 hours away. I only get to see them 2ish times a year.
I’ve lost track of pretty much everyone else.
Remember when Jessica and I used to be friends? We aren’t enemies any more, we just… you know. Don’t talk. We’re all going to Florida. Ashley, Liz, Holly, Jessica. I can’t forget my sunscreen.
I don’t know if Jade and I are going to NYC. I have a feeling we won’t.

They’re putting the nose back on the sphynx.

I had nightmares about ghosts two nights in a row.
Remember the dream I had where I won the Miss America Pageant with a lobster suit? That was crazy. I’m so hot.

I need batteries for my camera and other things.

I need to unpack.

I only pooped 4 times while I was at Matt’s house. That’s not healthy.
Jessica only poops once a week. And when she does, it’s just a little bit. Once she pooped at my house, and I felt honoured.
Like when Davey Jones used Rosie O’Donnell’s bathroom. Except better. Because Davey Jones uses the bathroom all the time.

Davey Jones’s Locker. I bet he has a mirror and one of those nifty shelves in it. I had a locker mirror in the 7th grade. Then one of those mean girls broke it. It was in the shape of a butterfly.

So in conclusion, hows that for your full- circle ending?

This weekend was very Kentucky-y.  Hickmon Friday, Mayfield Saturday.

Kentucky is an ugly place.

Nashville is a pretty place.

I went all over freaking Kentucky and didn’t even hit up Paducah.  I went to Kentucky with Steve and Holly and didn’t even hit Paducah!  But last time we went was a disaster.

“My pleasure.”

What a horrible weekend that was.  We told Davo about it last night, and he will never let me live that down.  Ever.

Neither will Holly and Steve.  When I die, they will pin a note up on the lid of my casket:
John Was In A Horrible Mood The Next Day!  What An Ass!

I downloaded some James Blunt songs a few months ago, and I just noticed… In my player, under Genre, it says “Alternative & Punk.”  I changed it to “White.”

So I’ve been practicing my silly walks.  I’ve been lax on my Ministry of Silly Walks lately.  Like, for the past week.  But my adoring fans will be happy to know that I have a new walk.

I am the least funny person ever.  I mean, my blogs are funny, and I say funny things, but the only funny things I say are only funny because they are things that everyone knows but no one states.  Or I’m cute funny.  But besides that, I never say anything funny.  Ever.

My mom is in love.  Rob is in love.  They love each other.  They love me.  I love them.  Love love love.  I hope they get married soon.  I wish Rob was my dad.

Don’t get me wrong… I love my dad, but Rob is amazing.  He cares about me so much.  He says he would do anything for his Lizzie May.  No, May is not my middle name… but he calls me that.

We have these shirts that say OCCHS.  And they have “Seniors” on the back.  Brad wore his to the nursing home with me one day.  Mrs. McCallister pointed at it and said, “DCCHS.”  We said, “No, that’s OCCHS.”  She didn’t get it.  She continued, “Dixie County City High School.”  She then looks at Sarah, “Did you go to Dixie?” Sarah nods and replies, “Yes, ma’am, I went to Dixie.”  She asks Brad, “What grade are you in?” and we kept saying, “Twelveth, Seniors,” etc etc etc, but she wasn’t getting any of it (she’s blind).  He turned around and pointed to the “Seniors” text on his back.  She ran her finger across it and read, “Sandwiches… that’s good,” and started clapping.  Crazy old Mrs. McCallister.

Mrs. Ladd just wants her snuff.

Davo played an awesome show last night.  I was proud of him.

So many people have said I’m a bit preoccupied lately.  Am I?  I think I am.  It isn’t anything personal.  Well, to most of you, it isn’t.

I don’t like to hurt people’s feelings, but bloody hell… you know?

“I hate kids.  They always have jelly on their hands.  Even if there isn’t any jelly in the house, they have jelly on their hands.  Always.”
- Alley Jo.

Men and babies are pretty much the same thing.  All they do is eat, sleep, poop, and have sex.  Except babies don’t have sex.

I’m not much of a drinker, but sometimes I need a good stiff one– and by “one”, I mean “drink”.  Pervert.

A One that is not cold is hardly a One at all.

So in conclusion, Steve doesn’t like it when people end papers like this.  I don’t either, but this isn’t a damn paper.

Currently Wearing:  Tube socks, tap shoes, and a pea coat.  Still.

I went to Hickmon tonight with Kaylie.� Last time I went to Hickmon was for a “concert”.� That was twelve times better.� Hickmon is known for their drugs and lack of beauty.� That’s all.� Kaylie and I were the most attractive people in Kentucky.

So Michele… I luff her.� She’ll piss herself with amazement that I’m writing about her.� I’m her little weirdo.� She’s so cute.

Holly and I are back together : )� I’m so glad.� We had a misunderstanding.� I thought she was mad at me, she thought I was mad at her, it was all just a big ball of false anger.� I’m so glad we’re back together.

We’re taking a road trip to Nashville.� Holly, Steve, and I.� And we’ll meet up with Matthew Callis there.� That will be fun fun fun.� We really only need one bed.� I can snuggle with them.

They never let me snuggle with them.� They did let me have the llove llama llast time I spent the night at Steve’s though.� Holly told me she saw me at 3 AM in the kitchen drinking Pinot Noir from the bottle.

I still kicked Steve’s arse at Scrabble though.

“You almost touched my clitoris”
- Michele

So let’s just say, it’s not cool to be fat.� Ever.� Even if you’re John Fucking Candy.� Not Cool.

We had this Fizzicks competition (laughter) Wednesday, and afterward, nobody wanted to go back to school, so we went to Wimpy’s Corner in Greenfield, home of the 1 lb hamburger.� Holly and I, being the delicate flowers that we are, each got a Jr. Wimpy Burger.� Because I fucking hate cows.� Anywho, if you eat a double Wimpy Burger, you get a polaroid on the Fatass Hall of Fame.� This is Sam Stuart’s lifetime goal.

He ate and he ate and he ate and he ate.� Everyone watched, except me and Holly.� We hid him with a menu, whilest talking about how much we hate fat people.

He finished the burger in 3 minutes.� A 2 pound burger in three minutes.� Guhross.� He was so proud.� His greatest achievement.� Ever.� He continued eating his fries, then Butters’s fries.� He was going to get dessert, but then he saw how disgusted the pretty ones of the class were, so he stopped.

By the way, Greenfield, TN pretty much = Hickmon, KY.

I encouraged him to get anothern.

Me:� Picture it, Sam.� A huge fucking picture of you on that wall.�� Everyone in Greenfield will know you’re name.
Mark:� What the hell are you doing?
Me:� (whispering under the menu) shhh… I’m trying to kill him…

But anywho, Sam had to write down his time at the bottom of his photograph.

Mark:� Write down Three Weeks.� That will really throw them off.� *southern accent* “Three weeks?� But we close durin’ the night!� Hey Phil!� Phil!� Come here!� This don’t add up!”

Ian:� “We’re open all day… and some night… not all night!”

I almost pissed myself over that.� But not over Mark’s Swiss burger.

“Hey, I got a Swiss burger… Liz, let’s get a Swiss buger… in the Swiss Alps…”
- Mark

That was just all around -not- funny.

Sometimes, things are so -not- funny that they’re funny.� This is not one of those cases.� That was just a really really bad joke.� Mark failed at funny.

oh, and i got my damn girl scout cookies.� i thought i was going to have to kick some eight year old ass.

Michele started her period the summer before 6th grade.� She had no idea what it was, so she threw her panties at her mom.� Then she spent the night at her dad’s house.� She was so embarrassed about having her maxi pads that she wouldn’t even put them in the trashcan.� She threw them in the field behind his house.� The coyotes probably had alot of fun with that.

So we went to Corporation Mart last night.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Liz, but the kind of guys that you’re into would love to get pink sparkley tatoos.”
- Jared

Hello, Kettle, you’re black.

I bought hair ribbons.

I also had a severe case of road rage.� And by rage, I mean head.� No, nevermind.� I mean rage.

“You’re really hot when you yell.”

Just for the love of Pete, DON’T FUCKING PASS ON DOUBLE YELLOW LINES UNLESS YOU’RE SUICIDAL, ASSFACE!

And then nobody was stopping at their stopsign.

Liz:� Sometimes I forget that I’m in Union City.
Jared:� Fucktard Central?� Chyah.� Calling all Fucktards, Calling all Fucktards…
Liz:� I’m blogging that.

And please people, you know how much I hate cell phones.� You really know how much I hate text messaging.� But seriously.� Don’t text message while driving.� Do you read letters while driving?� Do you write letters while driving?� Driving involves looking at the damn road.� DON’T FING TEXT MESSAGE.

So in conclusion, creativity is more difficult to achieve, says Matthew Drew Callis, than intelligence.� It takes intelligence to be creative, but it doesn’t take creativity to be intelligent.� So remember how I said intelligence is hot?� Nevermind.� I meant creativity.

So.  Here’s your typical blog.  I need a big ass fucking hug.  These are the bad things that happened today:

A.  I woke up this morning with 15 minutes to get ready, because I was up until 2AM blogging for you assholes.

B.  I forgot that the interns were having pictures today, so I naturally forgot my red scrubs.  You know what I was wearing?  Jeans, a Jillian’s shirt (oh, the irony), no makeup, and pigtails.  What kind of self- respecting Pre- Med major wears pigtails?

C.  I made an 88 on an English test.  And I’m good at English.

D.  I got fired.

That’s right.  Fired.  I’ve been working there for a year and a half.  Fired.  I know she didn’t really want to, but for some reason, it had to be done.

But anywho, the good things that happened today:

A.  My hair is finally long enough to go into pigtails.

B.  Ian told me I had a nice rack.

C.  I got the Presidential Scholarship (I knew it was something good before I opened it, because it was in fancy paper envelope).

D.  I got sympathy hugs.

E.  Kaylie, Emily, and Michelle noticed I’m losing weight.  I think someone else did, too.

Oh, another bad thing:  Mrs. McCallister is dying, quickly.  I know she’s nintey- two, and it’s time, but still… I love her.

Remember, she’s the old lesbian.

She Wants Revenge, Exit/In.  Ooooh yeah : )  Feb. 28.

So I bought 2 new CDs the other day.  Just a couple days before I got fired.  How convenient.

I would kill for a hamburger.  Too bad I don’t know how to make one.  Also, too bad I can’t afford to buy one.

I missed the Detatchable Penis song until I heard it just now.

Oh yeah, the CDs.  I got Panic! At the Disco and She Wants Revenge.  I was highly impressed with Panic! At the Disco.  I listen to it constantly.  Except now.  Now I’m listening to Dexy’s Midnight Runners.

Would you rather belt out the chorus of Come On Eileen every time you orgasm, or reach climax everytime you hear the word “pancake”?
Things to consider:  IHOP, family brunches, karaoke.

Panic! At the Disco’s lyrics are so… fab.  Let me give you a sample:

Isn’t this precisely where you’d like me
You know, Prayng for love in a lapdance and paying in naivety?
But I’m afraid that I, well I may have faked.
I wouldn’t be caught dead in this place.

That’s just a little somethin’ somethin’ that stuck out to me.  But anywho, the whole CD is very catchy.

She Wants Revenge… the best song on the album is Tear You Apart, their single, but I’m still not disappointed.

Is it wrong that that song gets me hot?

oh, yeah, davo wanted me to blog this so he could be (in)famous:

Miss Lizzie says:

.

Boys are guhross.

But then again, I’m about to blog about the first time I used a tampon… and not the Misfits kind, either.

I was 11 or 12… probably 12.  I was in Nashville with Mrs. Helen, and I was hanging out with her daughter, Paige.  We were going to Nashville Shores in Hermitage, but I was on the rag, so I got Paige to give me one of her teeny tiny little ones.

I was in the bathroom for close to an hour.

To this day, that was the most difficult task I’ve ever completed.

I’m not going to be gross anymore.

Placenta.

I’m a liar.

Speaking of, Murfreesboro is -totally- on the way to Memphis.  But usually, I take the shortcut through Toronto.  Then Florida.  -Then- Murfreesboro.  Sometimes I’ll cut through Austin, Texas before getting all the way to Memphis, though.

Only the interns really get that, but it should still be funny to everyone else.

Actually, I’m kind of glad I don’t have a jorb now.  I need to focus on fun.

Focus On Fun.  Sounds like an after school program for poor kids.  My brother was a poor kid.  I was kind of a poor kid, but not as much as my brother was.

My mummy just came home.  She’s so happy : )

But I just can’t stop thinking about that milk porno.

“It’s your turn, Miss Housekeeper!”

So I’m in the tailmaking business now.  Michelle and I are.  And Sarah.  And Rachel.

So in conclusion, come see CATS!  It’s CAT-tastic!

And guess who doesn’t have to go to work tomorrow… : )

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.

Christmas wasn’t bad this year… the only disappointment�I got was the fact that Santa Claus didn’t come to my house… does that mean I’m bad, or does that mean that I’m a grown up now?� Or both?� I’m not a “legal” adult in most states, so am I really a “grown up”?� Everyone seems to think so.� Little do they know that I find joy in Mr. Potato Head and colouring.

Anywho, I got an amp from my mum, and a digital camera from Rob.� Cool, huh?� Oh, Mark Adam got me a 3 hour Weezer DVD, all things weez from 1991 to 2002.� Kick ass, I know.

So the day after Xmas, mum and I left for Omaha.� We made really good timing on the way up there… Dan called me when we happened to stop at Taco Bell, which I didn’t know was his favourite restaurant, but just because he doesn’t talk about it all the time like Lia : )

“You’re a horrible friend!”
- Daniel Ryan Heny

When Dan was little, kids used to say, “Dan Heny has a great big weenie!” and he’d say, “Stop it, no I don’t!”� Who would have thought that years later, he still makes that argument for his own amusment.

Anywho, when we got there, I made my phone calls and Aunt Reenie, Aunt Ro, mum, and I went…driving… and looking at Xmas lights.� Not only had mum and�I been in a car for 10 hours, but there was a big ass American flag covering my window, so I couldn’t see anything.� Mum didn’t mind we were in a car… she was on her third glass of wine, of which she really can’t handle.� She was talking about how it isn’t fair that the three of us (Aunt Reen, Aunt Ro, and I) have big ole boobies and she doesn’t.� It would probably embarrass her to know that I blogged about that… Oh well.

Anywho, we drove through this neighborhood that didn’t have any lights�up or anything, and Aunt Ro said, “Wow, must be a bunch of Jews in this neighborhood.”� Like Dan.� Jewish old Dan Heny.

Oh, and anything that isn’t Union City is a suburb of Union City.� Especially Omaha and Troy.� They’re outside of the UC, therefore suburbs.

So the next day, the aunts, mum, my cousin Kiley and I went to Council Bluffs, the armpit of Omaha, to see Memoirs of a Geisha.� It was alright.� Then Dan stopped by to show off his ipod.� I really missed him.� He’s such a good friend to me.� Anywho, he talked to Aunt Reenie for ages… he’s good with aunts and parents.� They talked about retarded kids and how cool they are.� So then, Dan’s like, “Hey, did I tell you about this really cool party?” and he looked at me with that sarcastic smile.� If it was anything like the last “really cool” party we went to where we played mafia and ate Cool Whip out of the tub, then hell yes.� No, Phil was having a LOTR marathon party, and then it was moving to Julia’s house.� “Aren’t my friends cool?” Yes, Dan.� There was much Lord of the Rings and 4 way chess playing.� Phil didn’t like the idea that Dan and I were sitting on his couchbedcouch.

Innuendo Sign Up!� I don’t think that Omaha kids know the meaning of “innuendo.”� To them, an innuendo is, “I’m going to have sex with you.”� Too much Bloodhound Gang, I suppose.

Anywho, as the “party” moved to Chez Julia, Dan and I were chosen to make a Taco Bell run, but first, I had to meet his parents.� I wasn’t really too worried about his dad, but his mum… *shudders*.� The woman had never met me, but hated me anyway.� She is a bitch and a half.� So we got there, and she gave me that big, fake, I’m-just-smiling-to-keep-from-killing-you smile.� I found it quite funny.� She arranged Chirstmas cookies… ON DOILIES!� Doilies!� What kind of monster uses doilies?!� Dan had to leave the room to find my Christmas present and his lightsabers, one of which he would eventually give to me.� However, the meeting wasn’t quite as bad as I had anticipated.� She actually asked me questions, which I thought was quite nice of her.� As soon as we began to reach an awkward silence, Dan walked in the kitchen temporarily to kill it.� Make a wish, it’s 1:11.� To impress his mum, I casually mentioned that I’m going to Med school, which I think was an excellent move on my part.� Dan walked in again and mouthed, “I’m so sorry…”� Finally, we left.

Then we went to Taco Bell and ordered like 20 bucks worth of food.� When the chick at the window saw that there were just 2 people in the car, Dan said, “I haven’t eaten in two days; Are you ready for this?”� Touche’, Heeny.

So we get to Julia’s and everyone announces that they love me, because I gave them tacos.� Dan paid for it, but I’m the pretty one, I suppose.

We had lightsaber fights over a spread of burritos and cinnamon twists.

Peter told me, “I must admit, this summer’s Ha game was the worst game I’ve ever played.”� I swear, that game is so much fun when we play in in Tennessee.� But then again, Tennessee’s no Nebraska…

After the party, Dan and I went to Cold Stone for rich people ice cream.� Diamond encrusted ice cream.� I had banana : )� I suggested that we take our light sabers in, and he obliged, but said, “If you take yours out, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you and leave.”� Well as the chick was taking our order, my lightsaber fell out of my belt loop.� Yes, he walked away.� Then we couldn’t get out of the door, so some kind people directed us to another door which was much easier to operate.� We we got outside, I challenged him to a duel.� I’m not sure who won.� Let’s just say I did.

The next day, Kiley and I went to Giant Book Sale, where they sell only giant books.� Actually, my cousin Adam works there… It’s just a big warehouse type deal with books at low low prices.� Anywho, the place is about to leave, so the books are even cheaper.� I got like, 20 books for $13 dollars.� I got Adam’s empoyee discount, plus the Adam’s Hot Cousin discount.

Then Dan and I picked up Lia, whom I haven’t seen in as long as I’ve seen Dan.� We went to Bag and Save, where we took pictures of my ass with honey buns and bought Cookie Crisp and pirate gear for Zach’s little sister.� (the cookie crisp was ours).� Erin works there.� We told her to come to Sokol Underground when she got off… WORK!� HAH…ha…

So we drove around to Zach’s house on 13th, where his little sister did Jesus magic for me.� She’s a cute kid.� Oh, on the way to Zach’s, we sang Bohemian Rhapsody, which is always a good driving around song.� I’m a Bohemian Goddess.

So we get to Sokol, which I kept calling “SoCal,” and it’s quite stimulating.� There was not a good band playing the whole night.� I met a cool chick named Kassie.� She’s lots of fun.� Lia and I danced together.� She p0wns me at rave dancing.� We did the robot for like an hour, too.� Then, the drunken Rocky and Bullwinkle duo complimented us on our skills.� Yeah, they got a little creepy after a while.� It’s no compliment when a guy tells you you’re beautiful after his 5th Long Island Iced Tea.� I mean, he probably thought the fat chicks were hot, too.� Rocky’s still calling Lia.

Then came Icarus.� He was drunk, too, but more interesting and less creepy.� Lia and I were playing with our lightsabers, and he came over and talked about them, and I challenged him to a duel.� I kicked his drunken ass.� So he started telling me all about his concept album, which = his whole damn life story.� He has gourds in his car that his uncle gave to him.� Or his grandfather.� Whatever.� I like to call him Icky.

They have couches at Sokol.� How cool is that?� So I went to your room and read your diary.

The next day, we left.� Mum and I danced to Prince in the car.
Last night, I went to Rob’s with my mum, �and we watched I <3 the 80’s and played Cranium and Buzzword.

Mason’s girlfriend mentioned Old Yeller, and Mason said, “Oh yeah, the funny part is when they shoot the dog!”

I promised him I would blog that.� I have like a zillion readers, so he’s famous now.

I’m changing.� You know what I mean?� No, not puberty, silly.� I’m all through with that…
I’m just changing.� My taste in things is changing.� Certain things.� I’m going to upset two different people with one action, as soon as I figure out how to do it.� Person two will be upset for a totally different reason.� Person two, I apologize.� I feel bad.� Person one, not so much.

“19, 29, 39, 20 billion dollahs!”
- Dan Heny

So in conclusion, I miss Omaha.� I like it there.� Tennessee’s no Nebraska…

Currently Eating:� A biscuit.

So this is the forth blog I’ve started. Maybe this will be my last. My record for the longest blog kept was probably about 10 months or so, which is better than most people can say. Let’s see how long this one lasts.

So right now, I’m living with my dad. My mum is in Florida with her friend Nancy Pants, and everyone knows that I need constant supervision, because I’m 9. Apparently. Get it, apparent? Like “Oh my gah, somebody killed my parents!” …Get it….?

So anywho, I’m wasting gas going to and fro Mount Pelia, Tennessee. Wow, I can’t wait to get out of this town.

A comparison of my parents:

I. Dad

A. Pros

1. Realizes I am mature enough to handle myself and make my own decisions.

2. Respects my need for socialization, i.e. curfew

3. Understands me

4. Has a nice house.

B. Cons

1. Is a alcoholic

2. Snores loudly

3. Is really messy

4. Lives in BFE

5. Won’t say what he really means

6. Has rude friends

7. Likes to put me on guilt trips.

II. Mum

A. Pros

1. Is really cute and funny

2. Lives in town

3. Isn’t as financially rigid as dad

B. Cons

1. Is a child

2. Doesn’t realize that I am an adult

3. Won’t listen when I talk.

4. Will change her personality according to who she is around and/ or dating, which is really annoying and makes me want to smack her.

I don’t really know what to do. Who should I live with, hrm? Please, do tell.

Anywho, I’m going to see Eric tonight in “Dyersburg” (Finley). I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do about gas for the rest of the week. I get paid Friday. I worked late last Friday, so maybe I’ll get more than FORTY- TWO DOLLARS. Ugh. I spend most of my money on gas, usually going to Dyersburg. I’m sure Eric would come see me, but he hasn’t been feeling well, he doesn’t have enough money for gas, he has bad tires, etc, etc, etc.

I’m not sure how to tell my friends that I can’t go to New York this summer. I really didn’t understand why Eric thought it was a bad idea until just recently. I’ve been so naive about men. They’re gross. It is not a good idea for 2 or 3 girls to walk around NYC by themselves, even if we *do* know the area and we *do* carry knives with us. (I cut you, bitch!) They’ll be really disappointed. Maybe if we had a man to go with us. Hrm. As of now, however, Zephyr and I are still going to the Big Hole. That’s not that dangerous, right?

I’m going to ask for a raise today.

Why do my feet get so cold? I don’t think I have bad circulation. Well, I *do* have ridiculously low blood pressure. Maybe I can get someone to sit on my feets.