Me and writing haven't been getting along very well lately. I've always got some great thoughts dancing around in my head, but every time I sit down to type I'm just like, "Fuck you, Writing! What's you're problem? I don't need your shit." Then I throw a drink in his face.
Which is why it's a good thing I haven't been trying to blog at the Starbucks or somewhere public. People get scared when you yell at imaginary things and demand their coffees to go. Not a good way to make friends with the native Slidouchebags.
And see? That's all I've got for you today because Writing is being a bitch. And not in a good way, like Writing is MY bitch. No, just a typical drunk chick off the Rock of Love bus kinda bitch. Yeah Writing, I just gave you Herpes! How do you like that? Oh, well I didn't give you Herpes from me, I just...whatever. I'll just go clean something.
Today's subject line quote is Naomi Clark, "90210" (2008) {We're Not in Kansas Anymore (#1.1)}.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
They say an elephant never forgets...but I forget what the elephant remembered.
The blog's been in a bit of a slump.
I realize and have now not only addressed the elephant in the room, I had a nice talk with her. She likes chick flicks, works for Nilla Wafers instead of peanuts, and is ironically afraid of clowns for a former circus performer. Maybe that's why she's camped out on my couch watching DVD's of Grey's Anatomy?
Anywho, I have some things I need to do for myself. Stuff I'm not really ready for the world to read about just yet. Pull yourself together! I know it's out of character. I'm so self-involved and intertwined with the internet reading about my life that Michael might actually be the love child of me and this blog. There's no blood test compatible for half-human-half-megabyte babies though, so Dom will just have to go on raising him as his own.
I did go back and read my old, angsty, teenage blogs for some clarity. Holy crapola on a stick! I had a lot on my mind circa 2002. It's a bit more obvious to me now what was bothering me. Wonder what made me so absorbed at the time that I couldn't see Jumbo playing Crash Bandicoot in my bedroom, scowling at my Cirque du Soleil poster?
Today's subject line quote is Ed, "Ed, Edd, and Eddy" (1999).
I realize and have now not only addressed the elephant in the room, I had a nice talk with her. She likes chick flicks, works for Nilla Wafers instead of peanuts, and is ironically afraid of clowns for a former circus performer. Maybe that's why she's camped out on my couch watching DVD's of Grey's Anatomy?
Anywho, I have some things I need to do for myself. Stuff I'm not really ready for the world to read about just yet. Pull yourself together! I know it's out of character. I'm so self-involved and intertwined with the internet reading about my life that Michael might actually be the love child of me and this blog. There's no blood test compatible for half-human-half-megabyte babies though, so Dom will just have to go on raising him as his own.
I did go back and read my old, angsty, teenage blogs for some clarity. Holy crapola on a stick! I had a lot on my mind circa 2002. It's a bit more obvious to me now what was bothering me. Wonder what made me so absorbed at the time that I couldn't see Jumbo playing Crash Bandicoot in my bedroom, scowling at my Cirque du Soleil poster?
Today's subject line quote is Ed, "Ed, Edd, and Eddy" (1999).
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