Monday Bear

I found a poem on my car.

Well, I didn’t find it… Mark had to tell me that he stuck it on there:

An Original Poem From The Mind Of Mark Hall…

(For Liz)

Hugs and kisses

From a guy who wishes

He could put his peenie

In you.

(Thought you’d appreciate that.)

___________________________________________

Brokeback Gump:

“Life is like a b… I’m gay.”

“My grandparents are Senior Citizens”
- Dustin Crowel.

He’s a nice kid. Really funny. Butters is still creepy. Holly agrees. He has tricked us… tricked us into thinking that he’s asexual. But really, he masturbates while thinking about Liz and Holly… making out with each other.

Speaking of, Emily is a lesbian. Today at ballet, she grabbed my ass in time with the music. It made my day, nonetheless.

So here’s a note Davey found in Fizzicks… I’ll humour the girls who wrote it and blog it.

Note: This is all in big bubbley freshman writing.

So… how many laxatives did you take this weekend? lol.

I finished up a whole box Friday night. I went to get more Saturday morning. In all I took about 42 chocolate ones.

Haha! Did they help with your constipation? We ought to leave this note on the floor and let someone read it lol!

Haha, yeah, they helped a little. I’m still kinda blocked. I had Feta cheese, cheese pizza, cheese sticks, and other cheesey foods.

I like cheesey dinos.

Oh my! That’s triffling. I wish I could be a cheesey dinosaur.

Apparently you are… you eat cheesey food and act like a dinosaur! Haha

Is it a crime to use the back of the paper?

I don’t know I’m going to take the risk… this is risky business : )

You’re going to be serving time for this. Meth, writing on the back of paper, driving around after curfew, and auto theft adds up, you know.

Then it all goes downhill from there. That’s about it. This is a time when red and blue do not differentiate between Rep. and Dem.

All of the interns are at each others throats.

Miss Lizzie says:

god Tyler- its kinda like a bodybag says: Jesus Miss Lizzie says: haha Miss Lizzie says: i meant to say “good.” Tyler- its kinda like a bodybag says: hahaha that explains alot Miss Lizzie says: theres this one episode of bevis and butthead where theyre doing their schools news show, and butthead is reading cue cards, and he says “God morning, students.” Tyler- its kinda like a bodybag says: haha yea some people sound like their saying god whent their saying good Miss Lizzie says: mhm Miss Lizzie says: like how people think im saying “Lez” whenever i tellthem my name Miss Lizzie says: “mhm, my parents wanted a surefire way for me to grow up to be a dyke”

___________________________________________________-

Did he wink at me, or was I just seeing things?

He definately winked at me.

I’m -still- psyched about Nashville. My shins are sexy. Only a select few can see them though.

So in conclusion, I’m going to upload those new pictures

bitch.

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:

how were your tacos?

A Postcard Hello says:

They were subpar.

A Postcard Hello says:

The oles were greasy and mushy.

A Postcard Hello says:

But I can’t complain.

Miss Lizzie says:

ew

A Postcard Hello says:

It was all free.

Miss Lizzie says:

nothing is free,

A Postcard Hello says:

It was as free as things could be for me.

A Postcard Hello says:

Since Walter paid.

A Postcard Hello says:

And I believe just the opposite… that the best things in life are fre./

A Postcard Hello says:

free*

Miss Lizzie says:

like tacos

A Postcard Hello says:

Haha. Yes.

A Postcard Hello says:

But not from Taco John’s

A Postcard Hello says:

Nor any other TexMex / Mexican restaurant.

A Postcard Hello says:

Not homemade tacos.

A Postcard Hello says:

But that -other- kind of taco.

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… : )

and by that, I mean a very nice young man.

“This is the most fun I’ve had without lubricant.”
-  The dude from Saw.

He was hot.  Except when he reached his hand in the poo.  That was just nasty.  That’s the only part of that movie that bothered me.  Alley Jo and I watched it the other night, and we screamed during that part.  Then he killed that guy with the toilet lid.  That was funny.

He wasn’t hot in the second movie.  I bet he smelled.  He looked like he smelled.

Everyone should use protection.

I want a boy to give me pancakes in the morning.  He doesn’t have to make them, he can just get them from McDonalds.  Pancakes and a kiss on the forehead… that’s all I want.  He might want sex in return the night before.  Sex for pancakes?  I’m down.  I don’t see it as a tradeoff, I see it as killing two birds with one stone– getting what I want– twice.

St. Patrick’s Day?  Oh yes.  You.

To any of you who are mentally handicapt, the story in the blog below is indeed fictional, hence the “prose,” “short story,” and “my house.”  I don’t own my own house.

“That wasn’t a very fair tradeoff.”
-I’ll keep it a secret.  You asshole.  If you want to say that you said that, go for it.  It was really funny the next day.  “Yes ma’am.”

How am I supposed to know what everyone is into and what scares everyone else?  You people should come with an instruction manual.

I miss dancing with Lia.  I miss driving around with Dan.  I miss Omaha.  I don’t miss Dan’s bitch ass mom.

You know how I thought Sarah said, “He really likes you.  Either that or he’s a virgin.”?  Welp, something similar happened today.

What Sarah said:  They’re going to have to get out of the way.
What I thught she said:  Some hos gonna have to get out the way!

Speaking of, Nikki needs to fucking get out of my way when I’m singing my part.  I can and will pop a cap in her married ass.

“I see you lookin’, witcho lookin’ ass.”
-  the girl in Alley Jo’s class.

Some people blog too much.  These people are Liz and Liz.  Most people don’t blog enough.  Some people blog just enough.  These people are Daniel Ryan Heeny.

With a teeny weenie.

When he was a widdle boy, his friends used to say, “Dan Heeny has a great big weenie” and he would say, “No I don’t!  Shut up!.”

It’s funny how we change.

I just read Lia’s bulletin.  It said, “yay for robbers on High St.”  I live on high street.  721 High St.  Union City, TN 38261.  Write me a letter.  When I asked for those tortillas, Tony was the only one who sent me one.  You are all assholes.

Amy just got her nipples pierced.  That’s something I will never ever do.  All the ballet girls make fun of my nipples.  Just because they’re small.

So I have some funny stories about porno.  I would type them, but this blog is already too salty.  Message me if you’d like to hear them.  But if Alley Jo’s boyfriend finds out, she’s dead.

I encourage you all to go to www.indietits.com.  It’s a webcomic about some birds who are trying to be indie.  It’s funny.  There’s this one with the Yelling Bird.  In the first pane, he says “BLOG.”  In the second pane, he says, “That’s it.  That’s the joke.”

hahahha.

If I was artistically inclined, I would make a webcomic.  I should team up with one of my many artistic friends.  Or maybe my blog is good enough.  I think my blog is good enough.

I was going to blog about the first time I used a tampon, but I decided I’ll wait to do that another time.  Remind me.

This one isn’t very funny.  The last two blogs make me look like a whore.

Eric called me a whore once.  Then I spit in his face.

I am, however, Miss Baby Prostitute America.  According to that chick.

So in conclusion, I’m still not a vegetarian.  I’m not a vagitarian either.  Guhros

Sorry to ruin your first subscribed blog with a boring short story, Roberta, but it had to be done. I promise the next one will be filled with goofiness and hilarity.

On the bright side, it has sex in it.

Kind of like that one a couple months ago that none of you guys could read. Except Zephyr.

Anywho, here goes:

I took him back from my house from wherever. That doesn’t really matter. But when I was there, I chose him. It was either him or the one with the 5 o’ clock shadow, but then I noticed beard boy was wearing brown shoes and a black belt. We certainly can’t have any of that.

I gave him the look that I always give: The one that says, “I want you, but I may or may not have sex with you.” He immediately bought me a mimosa. And then another. Over those two drinks over a two hour period, he had 4 Long Island Iced Teas. This was going well.

I gave him the bullshit that I always give. I’m just out of a nasty relationship, my cat just died, and my father left me when I was 4. Vulnerable.

He was a sweet kid– nice looking, he had a cute laugh, and he was a philosophy major. So like I said, I used my charm (and cleavage) and took him to my house.

I took him to my bedroom and told him to relax, even though he was already about as relaxed as they get. Then he told me he was a virgin. My hands turned into tight white fists. I don’t know if I was excited, outraged, or both, but virgins should have to wear a t-shirt, or a tattoo, or something that tells us so. However, I played it cool. Smiling, I placed my hand on his thigh.

“Make love to me, beautiful,” he said to me. How cute.

“K, let’s fuck.”

Then we started going at it fast and hard. He was really enjoying this– he was thrusting and thrusting and banging and fucking– and I moved a little bit, too. It felt nice. Just as I was getting into it, his mouth gaped open and I felt his warmth. He kissed me softly.

“I love you.”

After he said this, I nervously smiled, put my skirt back on, and left.

Then I remembered that this was my house, so I went back inside, and in awkward silence, took John back to his car.

I mean David.

I can’t make everyone happy.  I thought I learned that already.  I thought that after issue after issue after issue, I had finally learned that someone, no matter what I do, will be upset.  It’s just the way things work.  And no, I’m not being bitchy/emo… it’s the same way for everyone.

I’m a good person.  I’m a good dancer.  I’m a good writer.  I’m a good receptionist.  I’m a good talker.  I’m a good student.  I’m a good daughter.  I’m a good friend.  I’m a good sister.  I’m good making people smile.  I’m a good babysitter.  I’m a good actress.

I’m a good girl, dammit.

“Why do I care?  Why do I care?  Why the fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffuck do I care?”
- Dan a few months ago.

But freaking… I don’t know.  I don’t know.  I’m upset.  Hurt.  Confused.  Offended.  Mislead.  Angry.  But most of all, I’m worried.  Irrationally worried, but worried nonetheless.

What do I hate?

I hate it when people bitch and piss and moan and don’t do anything about it.

So I’ll stop.

Sarah, my little ballerina, said:
“Wow, he really likes you… that, or he’s rich.”

But I thought she said:
“Wow, he really likes you.  That or he’s a virgin.”

I watched Saw II last night with Alley Jo.  It had good special effects.

She has big knockers.  They’re fun to lay upon.

“Aunt Jemima has some serious knockers.”
- Dan.  Again.

I wonder how the NIN concert went.

How many punks does it take to change a lightbulb?

Nobody knows.  Punks have never changed anything.

Thank you, Mark Adam.

Metrofest was tonight.  I would have gone, but I don’t trust my own driving on icy roads.

I wonder if I would have gotten my “face cracked the fuck open” like I was promised?  I’ll have to go back and see.

I’m tired of blogging.  Sorry to disappoint you.  I can’t think of more goofy stuff.

Oh yeah.  I can’t dance to my own song because I’m only 17.  And a half.

If you still say “and a half,” it means you’re too young.

Matthew: i want you to have a baby

Liz: i probably will eventually

like

when i get married

Matthew: why not now

Liz: you know what? why the fuck not now.

hell, im being selfish

body, schmody

future, schmuture

vaginal tightness, schmaginal tightness

lets have a fucking baby

Matthew: thats the spirit!

So I might be going to Bonnaroo with him and some other people and sleep in a tent. 

So in conclusion, baby, you got what I need.  But you say I’m just a friend, but you say I’m just a friend.

Biz Markie never fixed anything.

Currently eating:  Pinot Noir and ice cream.

I lost the Cutest Vegetarian Alive contest.  Peta is something derrogitory that rhymes with Peta.

Miss Lizzie says:

oh yeah, fuck. im out of Worlds Cutest Vegetarian

And that chip is all you got says:

why?

Miss Lizzie says:

because the other girls are cuter than me

Miss Lizzie says:

well, all but one of them

Miss Lizzie says:

one kind of looks like a horse

And that chip is all you got says:

but your far cooler than all of them so whats it matter

Miss Lizzie says:

and i bet im the only one who shaves my legs

And that chip is all you got says:

no words

Miss Lizzie says:

im going to eat a whole cow now.

And that chip is all you got says:

yeah just kill all the cows…

And that chip is all you got says:

kill them all

And that chip is all you got says:

kill a cow

And that chip is all you got says:

that should be a casaulties song

And that chip is all you got says:

rahrharhar kill the cows arhharhra kill the cows… kill everyone

Miss Lizzie says:

assholes.

Miss Lizzie says:

fucking tree hugging hippies

Miss Lizzie says:

ahaha i cant believe i said that

And that chip is all you got says:

yeah to late ive copy and pasted that and its going on my AIM profile at least

Miss Lizzie says:

haha

Miss Lizzie says:

im going to buy a leather jacket

Miss Lizzie says:

leather pants

Miss Lizzie says:

leather socks

Miss Lizzie says:

a leather car

And that chip is all you got says:

a leather car

Miss Lizzie says:

yeah.

Miss Lizzie says:

ill make one.

Miss Lizzie says:

with tools fashioned from cow bones

And that chip is all you got says:

sweet

And that chip is all you got says:

you facist cow eater

Miss Lizzie says:

i am.

Miss Lizzie says:

i hate cows

Miss Lizzie says:

with their fucking… udders

And that chip is all you got says:

so i can buy a leather jacket and not have you beat the shit outta me right?

Miss Lizzie says:

buy 12

And that chip is all you got says:

i cant afford 12

Miss Lizzie says:

steal a cow and sell it to the meat market

Miss Lizzie says:

or kill one and make your own

And that chip is all you got says:

genocide DIY

Miss Lizzie says:

kill it by hitting it with a dead cow

Miss Lizzie says:

that you killed in the same manner

Miss Lizzie says:

it will be one big anti-peta downward spiral

And that chip is all you got says:

where do i ge tthe first dead cow

Miss Lizzie says:

kill it with your bare hands

Miss Lizzie says:

or teeth.

And that chip is all you got says:

okay

Miss Lizzie says:

i just brushed my teeth

Miss Lizzie says:

i wish i had some cow paste

And that chip is all you got says:

lmao

And that chip is all you got says:

cow paste

And that chip is all you got says:

we should mass market that to americans

And that chip is all you got says:

we could be rich

Miss Lizzie says:

mhm

Miss Lizzie says:

but we would really just use the organs that nobody wants

Miss Lizzie says:

and sell the edible parts

And that chip is all you got says:

of course

Miss Lizzie says:

im blogging this

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So if you really liked me, you would go spit on peta.  Don’t forget your fur.

im going to write the plot to a movie, in this movie ill have nude female ninjas throwing dildo stars at zombie robot aliens from outerspace, and at the end an etheral being descends from the sky and they lower jesus down with pyrotechnics as he plays hard jesus rock, then everything explodes and Blanka from street fighter is suddenly in the foregrown and does his roar and electricty shooting then mario jumps on his head and they play the star spangled banned but backwards and everyone comes to a big dance contest with elephants and pies when suddenly alf surfs in and kills everyone with aids

I didn’t write that. 

“You’re so tits.”
-  Mark Hall

So I think mommy has a new boyfriend.  I like him.  He’s a musician.  I like artsy fartsies.

Intelligence is so hot.  mmm.

One time, Davo and Walter came to my house on a whim.  I was naked when they came over, so I had to put on clothes.  Anywho, Walter was in the kitchen eating mangoes, and Davo was talking to my mum.

Davo:  Hey, Ms. Susan, Wanna make out?
Mum:  With whom?

hah, you go, mom. 

My mom really is hot.  She looks like she’s in her mid- thirties.  Alot of people mistake us for sisters. 

So Butters is always… touching… me.  Not sexually (does butters have sex?) But… pseudoquasisensually?  It started about a week or 2 ago… he put his hand on my back.  Then it turned into kind of an awkward caress.  Now he asks if I want to sit on his lap.  I usually let it slide, since he is so innocent– asexual, almost.  But today, he definitely almost-on-purpose touched my rack.  That really grossed me out.  I then got away from him.

But I could just be a self-righteous bitch and that’s all in my head.  Who knows.  Who the hell knows.

So Hog told me today that she never really said the F word until she started hanging around me.  I thought I never really said the F word until I started hanging around her.  Maybe we have F-y auras. 

Again, nobody told me what their fucking aura looks like. 

We ate Los Portales today and Jamie got explosive diarrhea.  Don’t deny it.

So I ask you:  Would you rather have chunky vomit or explosive diarrhea?  I’m not sure what I would do.  I’ve never had either.  That’s a lie.

Remember in middle school when I didn’t have bodily functions?  I was so set on being delicate that I refused to admit that I had any bodily functions whatsoever.  Now I’m a phone pooper.  Is anyone else a phone pooper?  I might have phone pooped with you and you may not know it.  I phone pooped with Davo the other day and he didn’t know it.  Now he does. 

So on a lighter, slightly more offensive subject

Girl pants = trucker hats 2 years ago.

I know, I know, myspace is the worst possible place I could post that. 

Or maybe it’s the best place to say it. 

I wore my granddad’s hat a couple years ago.  Then I let Kittie borrow it.  Then I let her keep it.  At that same time, Sean wore a trucker hat every day.  It was a real one like mine.  It was from DARE.  People said he looked like Ashton Kutcher.  No, he just wore a trucker hat.  If I wear a tie and make that horrid face, would I look like Avril Lavigne?  If I put on a fake moustache and smoked a cigar, would I look like Groucho Marx?  If I dyed my hair blonde, wore red lipstick, got unexplained bruises, and started shooting up, would I look like Courtney Love?  Methinks not. 

Happy Belated VD. 

So in conclusion, what is your favourite venerial disease?

Mine is syphillis, because it’s older than Jesus.

So sometimes when I brake, my car makes a sound that doesn’t sound kosher.My mum did the cutest thing today.  She dated a paper, not 2/14/06, but 2/14/ <36.  Because it’s Valenties day.

Oh, and from now on, Valentines Day = VD.  Always.

So yesterday, I went to ballet, and oh, the delight that my little Sarah brings me.  She reminds me so much of myself, only younger.  She’s so much cooler than I was when I was 13, though.  Alot taller, too.  Anywho, I looked a hot mess, and I took my hair down, and she said, “Your hair looks like a lesbian.”  It did, I suppose.  I thought that was quite hilarious.  Then she said, “My hair is very straight.”  Actually, it’s curly.  But unlesbian.

Steve McGee is so funny.  He’s soooo emo sometimes, with his hoodie and all, but most of the time he’s a goofass.

Oh yeah, ballet, I forgot.  My feelings were hurt.  I’m a good dancer, dammit.  I’m not afraid to move out of my comfort zone, unlike you, you… comfortable…hag.

But on the bright side, sometimes I go running in the morning.  I was wearing the shorts that Zephyr left at my house… on the very bottom of the leg, they read in about 1/4″ print “SAVE THE REEF.” What a great place for an environmental protection message:

LOOK AT MY LEGS!  I’M WEARING COTTON RUNNING SHORTS!  AHHHH!

…

…(and by the way… protect the reef…)

…

But I was wearing those and tube socks (no, I wasn’t cold, I was running, you idiot).  And our little neighbor girls who kind of look like boys (Zephyr can second that) who always leave their bikes in the middle of my fucking driveway had built a snowman in the middle of the sidewalk.  Well, an ugly dog across the street had caught my attention.  I’m talking UGLY.  So of course, I wasn’t looking where I was going.  I suddenly ran face first into the bigass snowman, knocking its head off and messing up its torso.  It wasn’t completely destroyed… until I tried to fix it.  I just thought of all the times that those girls leave their bikes in my driveway, so I knocked it the rest of the way over.  I took a picture of it today, and the alcoholic who owns the house thought I was taking a picture of her.  Pshno.

Oh, and I looked/ felt like a million bucks, as Zephyr’s mom would say, in my new leotard.  Woot.

Maybe it’s because of the 5 pounds.

Oh, and I will never ever EVER be in a sorority.  Ever.  Are those girls still in middle school?  WTF, mate?

Oh, and here’s that germ:

He’s sitting atop my wrinkled bedsheets.  Isn’t he cutesy?  Certainly very cutesy.  He’s half Matthew Callis’s.
So in conclusion, I have to be in 2 places at once tonight.  Work and rehearsal.

*splits her atoms*

Oh, and by the way, next band I’m in…

Will have punctuation.

Like Panic! At the Disco.

Sex, and Gummybears-

Are you supposed to pause after Panic!?  Becuase I do.  And I exclaim it.  And I do jazz hands.

Panic! At the Disco.