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*~PriNceSS~CoLumBiNe~TeEts~*
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| ThE poYxzoN HASS werKed eetz SyStum thRU MEye KOr-set |
[16 Jun 2006|01:17am] |
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mood |
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 Awwww, Shucks |
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music |
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A sort of dull ringing sound |
] |
For years I've wanted someone to stop me in the middle of the street and say.
"I've got diarrhea.....Would you be interesting in purchasing some?"
make my dreams come true..............
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| 45 Seconds to Midnight |
[26 May 2006|01:16am] |
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mood |
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 Does that cat ever smile? |
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music |
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Kitty Wells - It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels |
] |
Long and hard is the road that out of mediocrity leads up to nullity. And that's why it took me so god damn long.
But certainly the wait is all for nought, I've been struggling to get in a few last words before nuclear warfare lays waste to this planet, but for the life of me I can't think of a single interesting thing to say. Which is way I've decided to not say anything interesting ever again. On this day, I solemnly swear to not say anything meaningful, funny, or even remotely witty in these tiresome last entries I waste your time with. Not to imply for a moment that any of those previously aforementioned adjectives could be applied to anything I've said in the past, I just wanted to make it clear that they definitely could not be applied to any of the drivel I might expel in the future. From now on, its just whining, senseless ranting, and even poorer punctuation, then, ever, before,
So if you thought the first 119 were poorly written garbage, so did I. That being said:
Certainly it would go without saying that little has happened in the past 6 months or so. Nothing ever happens. I almost wish I could say my life fell into some horrible downward spiral, spinning out of control. But its never anything that glamourous. A more appropriate analogy would be those 15 minutes after the crash, some people stop and stare, but the initial charm has passed and now it's twisted remains just reminds them of their own mortality. So here I stand, before a man I do not know, screaming and carrying on about whos attorney is going to pay for what damage. I bet he'll be pissed when he finds out I have no insurance and don't technically "own" anything. Que Será, Será, I guess. Why bother fighting it?
The few thoughts that do cross my tiny mind have grown more and more obsessed with the imminent destruction of most of this planet at the hands of various lunatics. Wicked puppets playing out the parts of the villains they created in folklore long ago.
The antichrist walks our earth at this very minute, and is in a position of great power. Power, that was given to him, not by the voices of many, but by the treachery of few. Mock my words, he will Bring aboUt the end, and that end is Sooner then you tHink. So if there's anything you planned on doing before you die, it'd probably be a good idea to get it done before fall of 2007.......
But what really bothers me, is that a few years ago I was totally looking forward to being in the generation that would likely bare witness to the total ruination of all living things. In comparison to dying alone in a hospital room, I figured it would be a hell of a lot more interesting way to go. I imaged seeing this quaint suburban hovel I've grown accustomed to, reduced to flaming refuse. I could hear the cries of friends and loved ones but not be able to see them through all the thick smoke and debris, the smell of charred flesh would be so strong you could actually taste it on the tip of your tongue. But now that doomsday is truly around the corner, quite frankly, i'm kinda disappointed.
Its not even so much a matter of growing complacent with my standing in life, and not wanting it to end. If anything, im more miserable then I've ever been. It's just this superficial desire to not end my life as a statistic. Whats the fun of dying if no one else is alive to see you do it? Not to mention this sickening feeling of being cheated.
And that's what bothers me, not the actual end itself, but its total lack of style. Couldn't there have been something more grandiose? I was hoping for volcanoes and earthquakes that would rip the planet to shreds, swarms of locust, fire and brimstone, the bowels of hell emptying itself upon earth and bringing about horrors the likes of which mankind has never seen before. Something more interesting then just a loud bang and instant vapourization. I mean, wheres the god damn Four Horseman?! I dreamed of riding alongside Death's pale cow since I was just a little girl, and now your gonna deny me that?!
Speaking of cows, I was talking recently to my lost loved ones about an idea I was planning on pitching to the people down at Hershey. I was thinking of how lovely it would be if we started producing Chocolate Covered Cow Tongues. It would be similar to the Hershey kisses with almonds, only with cow tongue instead of almonds. And the treats would be more tear shaped, as opposed to the more nipple shaped kisses we're all used to. I would explain to them that these tears are the laments of the chocolate cows. Whos teets were so brutally strangled by the violent hands of the careless farmers. No, by the careless hands of the violent farmers. What I mean is, The enormous brown stinky hair covered mits that dangle from the hammish pink scaly limbs of the long forgotten old lustful and raging with thoughts of unmitigated violence and absolute carelessness heart warming hand farmers. Farm hand is my right hand, the left down your/my/ours careless hammy cow pants. Clearly these are the teets of an abused calf. They tell me "Meat is Murder" and I say unto them "Is not Milk, Molestation?" Confused, they walk back into the pallid hell that is their daily life.
Anyway, about the Chocolate covered cow tongues. We'd be using freshly cut cow tongue, none of this month old dried cow tongue full of preservatives and corn syrup that you so often see handed out during children's partys at Charlie Cheese or whatever the hell its called. Were talking only the freshest tongue for our costumers. And to avoid breaking any kind of "cruelty" laws, we'd stick to using only the tongues of cows that have been convicted of violent crime against women, child rape, and bootlegging.
We even got a cute slogan for it
"Chocolate Covered Cow Tongue, The Snack That Kisses Back".
Whatever happened to Judy Tenuta anyway?
"That wasn't even worth my scorn" - Pariah The Penguin
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| Well Secluded, I See All |
[21 Dec 2005|01:59am] |
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mood |
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 Or lack there of...... |
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music |
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Camera Obscura - Your Sister's Social Agony |
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Lead us not into temptation. But deliver us from evil.
Its been a twisted past few past-times these past few times. Quite flavourful all the way through, though some of these flavours left a good taste in my mouth, others gave me jitters. But the worse be the ones that are the bittersweetest. Delighted and enthralled with the sticky-sweet sensations wich dance upon your tongue, yet driven into remorse from the aftertaste, that wicked reminder that leads you into horrible crutches like feelings and compassion.
But dont think for a second that im naive enough to fall for such a dirty trick as love. I understand damn well that this is no more then the compulsive impulse to desperately trail the first sign of attention. But why must her she take hold of my thoughts and spread like brain cancer, why must I see it everywhere. Why am I reminded of those fetal days when they would rend the milk bottle from my hands mid drink and that pathetic desperation in my eye as I reach for the comfort and suckle I desire. Its not my fault it tastes so god damn good. SO JUST FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME!
But like that spandex wearing queen whore that is David Lee Roth once squeeled before we sodomized him to death with a pine cone plumed in squirrel teeth, we "Ain't talkin bout love". So lets move on in the digressional way we always do.
Since my recent falter into the world of prescription drugs. I've realized I was right from the start with my views on SSRI's and other highly priced sugar pills that do nothing but sedate you into complacency. Sure I was finally able to pull the razor away from my wrist for a few weeks. But as quickly as it freed me of nasty messy thoughts of suislide, it freed me from all other rational thought as well. If anything I simply felt contented with absolute mediocrity. And mediocrity is certainly not something I should being willing to settle for. Not that I plan on actually doing anything to raise myself above this level of pallid existence. I just miss being able to whine about it.
Basically what I've drawn from psychiatry, is were all diseased wether we know it or not. We really have no free will, and we are merely acting according to our own disfunction. But I say fuck Freud and his cocaine fueled tirades of anal insertion and innate desires of mother fucking. Its all a twisted pyramid scheme to sell pills if you ask me, though your probably better off not asking. So needless to stay, I've grown out of these childish hopes that life can be made more tolerable with legal drugs.
So despite my recent affliction with affection, the world outside her all encompassing fruit basket has been tolerable, and at times even bordering on pleasant. Im doing what I can to keep my girl scout uniform clean, and my brain stem feels all the better for it. I've even tried eating this "food" stuff you people speak so highly of. Although not quite as tasty as the vikodan and malt liquor regimen im use to, it has its merits. Like did you know, those little coloured spots that float around your head, and the occasional black outs can be cured simply by eating a banana every now and then? I wish someone had told me that like 5 friggin years ago. And on top of that, it tastes even better, the second time around!
Love is indeed like a roller coaster, you get on, go really fast, flip over, go another way, flip over, and then you pull back and finish jerking off on its chest. That or vomit......
Here's a poem I wrote about diet and exorcise
Necrononomics of astronomically comical proportions
Methane strains, fuel the flame's contorted abortions
Twisted frames, writhe in pain, to feed the masses
Recycled into gruel to fatten lower classes
This ever living parasite
The queen of anti-socialites
Where some just call it tragedy
Others call me majesty
Reluctantly sucked into finally revealing
emotions were safer without any feeling
I'd rip it out raw to stop it from beating
But the smell of success feels awfully defeating
FIN
Evil from us deliver but, temptation into not us lead
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| Why is my bleeding heart beating? |
[21 Nov 2005|10:05pm] |
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mood |
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 Like A Wisp Of Cotton Candy |
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music |
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Tiny Tim - Stay Down Here Where You Belong |
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Speak no Evil, hear No Evil, its as simple as that. There's no explanation for the time spent. I let my mind drift to sea, where it was eaten by sharks. Lets just chalk it up obsessive revelling. Its not my fault they made pleasure more desirable then pain. In the long run I found things I wasn't even aware I was searching for, but their charms brought delight far beyond my wildest dreams. Wich isn't very far for a creature that only dreams in nightmares, none of wich are even that wild.
On the Rx trip, I finally found a doctor crooked enough to feed me drugs. Its been a long time cumming, but maybe the side Effex are worth it. Sadly nothing quite so tasty as Oxys or Valium, just your average anti-distressent. But If all goes well, I can be a poison victim, willingly swallowing my own mind control and before long I'll be just another disease infested rat in the rat race, a race I will inevitably lose, yet all the time never quite noticing how awful the whole cycle is.
Or at least that's what it says on the bottle. Shit, I hope it doesn't make me fat too.
I can't help but be reminded of the time I saw a man walking out of the restroom, pants still around his ankles and a 2 foot turd dangling from beneath his legs. Just before he waddled away he turned to me and said, "This, is a work in progress".
But I saw him as I did any other man. Just another cowboy lost in space, propelled through its infinity by his own gas
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| HOLLY-DAZE r Here Again |
[28 Sep 2005|01:15am] |
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mood |
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 Alanisentual |
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music |
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Alanis Morissette - King Of Pain (unpluggeded) |
] |
HAPPY ALANIS MORISSETTE NIGHT EVERYONE EVERYWHERE!!!!
Keep in mind you need not even like Ms. Morissette's music to enjoy the festivities of Alanis Morissette night each year. All you need to do, is for 5 short hours each year, accept her into your heart and think about her, force yourself to listen to some songs, masturbate to a few pictures of her, allow all things Alanis to overcome your soul.
Its only fitting that we give a brief history of our lovely lady of this night, so that people can have a better understanding of the women we love, at least for now.
Alanis Theodore Morissette was born in 1943 in a swamp just 4 miles from Captain Hijack's Discount Liqour in Alberta, Canada. She was drawn to performing early in life, when even at the ripe age of 6 she would perform oral on her brother Mike Myers(Not the funny one from the movies, but rather that douche from Austin Powers). Often to the reception of a standing, and rather messy ovation. At the age of 13 she earned her spot amongst the cast of you Can't Do That On Television, where her mother was eaten alive by the wild dogs that guarded the gates to Nickelodeon studios. Despite her loss, she enjoyed a long stint on the show wich lasted from 1978-1994 ending only when she was knocked unconscious in a contract dispute over who would be playing Mr. Shidler that season, needless to say Les Lye won again.
Soon after leaving You Can't Do That On Television, Alanis thought it would be "totally cute" if she made an album, so she did, much to the joy of lesbians all over the world. And thats the story of our beloved Alanis.
WE LOVE YOU ALANIS! from the hours of 1am-6am each year on September 28th.
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| Everything you wanted to know about coprophagia, but were afraid to ask |
[20 Sep 2005|04:09am] |
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mood |
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Euthanasiastic |
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music |
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Rasputina - The New Zero(live) |
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I just swam in from New Orleans and boy are my arms tired. I ended up having to make a raft out of dead pets and children to get here, but much to everyone else's chagrin and partly my own, im in one piece.
Did anyone else see that benefit concert last night though? Where all these convicted child molesters got together to form a Judas Priest tribute band called, Put Your Pedo To The Metal? I thought that was in rather bad taste. But still, I donated. I couldn't help but feel generous when I heard Paula Poundstone belt out the chorous to Ram It Down. So I think I did my part for the victims.
As for the the rapey, just my luck, I had to get one of those fucking "legitimate" doctors. Who refused to sign papers to give me lots of money, and wasn't even willing to give me a single bucket of Oxys. So needless to stay my awful stint wasting time with the elderly and handicapped was cut short when Dr. Nofun explained to me "she'd have to get to know my case better" before she signed anything. I quite that terrible program soon after I heard this. Fuck that whole scenerio. I refuse to wake up at 7 in the morning to hang out with people 4 times my age, and rolly polly retards constantly chanting "when I gets home, I am gettin a soda" over and over. Why the hell haven't we enlisted that Logan's Run idea yet?
But enough with the anger, I've got a fresh pack of Maul-Burroughs and a crooked smile. And although im not ready to face another day, I'll certainly die trying.
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| A Begginers Guide To Suicide |
[21 Aug 2005|07:05pm] |
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mood |
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 Calling All Grease Poe-leese!! |
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music |
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Tatu - All About Us |
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Wow, that was like the best orgy ever! All the nude writhing and exchange of sexual juices! Far superior then anything I've ever experienced with that cold, dead, fat fuck of a fish I so ignorantly called my love during one of my weaker moments.
Oh yes, metaphors. Sometimes I lose track of time and words, its so easy to lose things that don't exist. Like a Sodomaniacal tongue lashing never before experianced. Spider-like movements that dance about, celebrating the glory of the flesh, of there here and now. Let it not be implied though, that it was simply driven by lust. Theres always more then that. Friends can love, they can, they can. Why not see what they taste like?
Okay, so you got the point.
I've recently considering transforming myself into the sort of "evil twin" of Jesse Katsopolis. After watching an episode of Full House earlier this day, I wiped the sperm from my fingers and thought, "Wow, maybe I should start working out and wearing tight black shirts. Sort of slick my hair back and get two pretty inverted cross necklaces". Not only would there be great offerings of hole explorations, but I've really felt that I've needed a major rebirth recently. Sort of discarding this withered old shell I've reluctantly clung on to for far too many years. The days of being a whiny, druggie, goth chick are over. Now I will do whatever it takes to become a whiny, druggie, sitcom greaser. Of course my soul has no pity for the poor sap that will become the mutant twin of Joey Gladstone. There is no solace in the world of Dave Coulier, only suffering and Alanis Morrisette's withered vagina leaving thick streaks of guilt on whatever it scuttles by. Yes, my dear love. I would go down on you in the theater, or anywhere for that matter.
Ass 4 that awful delusion/illusion I call my daily life, apparently im going to see a psychiatrist tomorrow. If I can get him to sign a paper that says im too worthless to be competent at doing anything beyond lying around the house and drinking, I'll finally be getting money and maybe even medication! I hope he's one of those Elvis doctors though. I don't want any of those yucky SSRI's, those are for schmucks. Give me Benzos! Give me Opiates! I have no time for prozax. If all goes well, wich i doubt it will, pretty soon I'll be swimming in dollar bills and medicine bottles, and it doesnt get much better then that.
"That Was Extremely Mediocre" - Little Jared
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| Suffer The Children, Condemned |
[23 Jul 2005|10:00pm] |
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mood |
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 Worse |
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music |
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Amanda Bynes - Bring Me A Bucket To Vomit In |
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I expressly remember expressing my lack of interest in wanting to be brought into this world at the time when I was still a blissful spirit reveling in utero. Those times when I couldn't be persecuted,prodded, or generally polluted. For such actions would only turn upon the actor, being that we were all part of one omnipresent wave. I can't recall what could have possibly lured me from my stance on this issue. Perhaps it was the promise of all the fun toys and tv of the time, but why was I so easily satiated by offers of Monchichi dolls and Go-Bot's cartoons. Clearly impulsive behaviour was something I suffered from since before I was even aware of my own awareness. I should have listened to Borbus-A, he knew there was no life beyond birth. And so did I. But leave it to me to overcome my feelings of self-doubt, the one and only time I was right.
A staleness so bitter and so growing that every awful day previous seems like a long forgotten dream of a time where joy and innocence prevailed, despite what atrocities might have happened during those times. The days when I "thought" the world was an evil place filled with ignorant and hateful people, all of whom are completely disgusted by my presence. Now I "know" the world is such a place. At least back then, there was some part of me that thought and maybe even hoped I was wrong about the world. I blame mother, for letting me grow up to be a cowboy.
But despite all that, cheer up kids. Always remember, no matter how fat or unattractive you were as a child, theres someone out there in this world who would have fucked you.
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[13 Jul 2005|01:22am] |
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mood |
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 Looking Down The Cross |
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music |
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none |
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I've just found a box of stale potato chips that have been packed in with some dill pickles. The flavour of the pickles have tainted the chips in a most delightful of stale manners, and this brief moment of being slightly less suicidal has given me enough strenght to drool out a quick synapse-sist of the horrible things that have happened to me recently.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I recently got a job working at some Coffee Shop. By far, this is the worse thing I've experianced in my already generally unpleasent years on this planet. I tend to not like working in a group, or working with food, or having to do a lot of random chores at a whim, or talking to people, or being looked/gawked at by people prettier then me. This job is all of these awful things all rolled up into one hellish Moon Java Crappacino.
The horror of working here has left my brain only able to ponder and dream about my own beautiful undoing. And left me with little ability to actually write anything worth writing. (See above example)
I plan on quitting tommorow, but only after I've managed to drink as much of their delicious caffienanated beverages as I can keep down. Then I can again finally return to my life of mundane mediocrity and pallid longing. At least I have something to look forward to.
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| Cryptic and Inferior |
[22 Jun 2005|03:21am] |
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mood |
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 Smitten Like A Kitten |
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music |
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KAH! KAH! KAH! KAH! - KAH! KAH! KAH! KAH! KAH! |
] |
Remember that band "Big Black"? They did that crappy song about lighting their pubes on fire underneath the christmas tree. Remember how we laughed when the branches caught aflame. Im not even jewish, but I laughed. I laughed at the thoughts that went through his head when he looked down and saw his flaming phallus twist the tree into fiery tinder. I laughed at the thought of his angry white suburban parents railing him with a ferocity that could only be equaled by a rabid wolverine on PCP who recently found out his son slept with his wife. I laughed at his excuses. "My teenage lust", he might explain, in-between bouts of fathers bellowing anger. With sardonic glee ,I could almost bring myself to orgasm, if only once, just once, his father belted him the same way he did mother, when there was too much beer, and not enough cooking. It felt like an emotional grab bag, so much to choose from, so little thought to it. Those brief moments that convince me im capable of miming human emotions, for just long enough to convince them not to attack. I never did like that band Big Black anyway.
I do however hold a special place in our hearts for the limbless bird-like creatures that suddenly came into my world. I saw them recently at a book signing. I was waiting in line,looking forward to getting my copy of "How I Transformed Into A Dustmite, In 14 Sod-Covered Minutes" signed, when from almost out of nowhere these creatures came out from the crowd screaming like a rape victim with a bullhorn. They had thick masculine humanoid legs, wich led into the head of a crow, except larger. Their eyes were sunken deep into their skulls, but could be made out by the their pale yellow glow. With each scream that echoed through the room, a viscous white fluid came from the birds mouths. It flew out in strands, spraying everywhere. There wasn't a soul alive or dead that day that didn't find their hair and clothes matted down to their skin by the cruel sperm-laden acts of the birdmen. However, I couldn't help but smile. When your sitting in a large group of complete strangers, surrounded by vile half-man/half-bird demons, liberally drenched in their sexual release. I think it's best to sit back and really smile at how unique that situation really is, I mean how many other people could say they were around for that? And its for those moments that I breathe.
There is a lot of subliminal, subversive, semenal, semantics to all of it. But I've always said what I meant. Anyone whos anything to me understands this much. If you all you see is formless formalities with a touch of nonsense, then you missed the point. Mr. Sinatra, its me Sammy. Frankie baby, you've been on my mind all day and all night. I don't know it the other members of the rat pack can understand my feelings baby, but I hope you do. Somewhat like a fish out of water, the longing drifts but never fades, by brown mind focused on that moment when I held you in my arms. Your so beautiful Frankie baby, and thats rare in this world. So many I know, talk of dreams, but never have the desires like you and I. Beyond the physical state even, the desire to carry out a morbid joke on a whim, the desire to create the stories we speak of. I find that fascinatingly captivating. I miss ya "Ole Blue Eyes". You make this black, jewish, satanist feel all tingly inside.
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| In All Honesty, I Hate Everyone |
[18 Jun 2005|12:38am] |
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mood |
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 Eternally Unhappy |
] |
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music |
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Janis Joplin - Summertime |
] |
Absence, due to anger and alcohol. There can be no other excuse. The worst of both worlds and nothing in between, a painful dose of mediocrity, that will indeed inevitably lead to an overdose. And thats what happened in the past. There is no future.
I found out today, where on the human body the "cockles" are located, and I froze them clean off. My friend brought out his cockles in public soon after this, which involved persecution, prostitution, and a subtle dose of pessimism. All in all, he ended up in prison, and I felt partly responsible. But thats the life of a hood-rat, we live and die in the ghetto, peace to my niggas up in lock-down.
*Pouring out bottle of rubbing alcohol
Apparently the only difference between Champagne and Sparkling Wine is confusion, so say the little demons in my brain that both praise me and tear me down endlessly.
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| You Fat Ignorant Inchorent Redneck Bitch, No One Will Ever Like You |
[06 Jun 2005|11:11pm] |
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mood |
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 Like A Belligerent Fetal Pig |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Margot Kidder Screaming In My Ear |
] |
It has been proven by various rapist, that this entry is statistically more testicular then previous entries. With a combination of marshmellow fluff, mohair panties, and little bit of soul.
It's come to our attention that a never before experienced amount of phlegm has risen to a crescendo, and 99% of viewers agree that the event in itself has made them question their own reality. In thick brown streaks, it left behind a smell few people could contend with. And the ones that did try were left sleeping in its wake.
Take the hand of the man, predominately covered in urine soaked rags. Led him lead you were he may, and leave you there to ponder how you came so far. But when you find that man again, stab him, and make him suffer. He only led you astray.
But I digress. On a side note, a certain person I know once told me that they were angry that I never mentioned them in my journal. Out of respect to them, I will take this time to say a little bit about them:
Why did I waste 25% of my years on this wretched planet with an overweight headcase, doomed to eternal failure? Is it because im an underweight version of the same type of creature? Maybe, but signals tell me otherwise. My mistake, was simply thinking that they still might have had a decent bone if their tubby shapeless body. Cleary the only good bone they ever had inside them, was my own.
To whom it may concern, understand this much. All your quirks and failures will always be there, and cleary you'll never surpass them. You've proven that progression is not something you can comprehend, let alone accomplish. You'll always be a pathetic, babbling, nutcase. Not in a fun or cute way, but rather in that sad way that will forever doom you to live your life traveling from hospital to hospital never really being able to experience the few decent things the outside world might have to offer.
Did you ever consider that your erratic and unexplainable emotions essentially negate the relevance of any feelings or opinions you might have? Because of your inability to look at a situation from a logical and reasonable perspective, your words and feelings mean nothing. Your entire being is no more then a collection of misfired chemicals in your rotting brain. Just thinking about that is depressing, I can only imagine how miserable it must be to actually exist as such a wretched being. I know no living human being with feelings will ever be able to tolerate you for very long, and I know it won't be long before your alone again, and this time I truly feel it will be forever. I highly doubt your alcoholic cancer magnet of a father will live long enough to be there when you fall.
What you have proven is that your less then a person, it doesn't matter what anyone person can offer you emotionally, it just matters who has enough money to support your pathetic little coke habits, or whatever drug you might be addicted to at the time. How funny it is when you scream at and denounce others in a most ghastly manner, when the very thing your accusing them of, is a crime you yourself have commited. When your getting gang banged by trailer trash to score some cook-up, do you pull the cock out of your mouth for a second, only to call the sperm soaked slut lying next to you a whore?
Maybe its not "their" fault when the few people who tolerate you out of pity, end up leaving you, only to eventually become disgusted at the mere mention of your name. Do you really think that everyone you've come across is truly evil and out to get you, and thats why you have no friends? Are you truly so naive that you could write off such a thing by placing the blame on others? Point the finger, and try to make villains out of whoever you want, we all know who's truly at fault here. People change, fat bottom-feeding drug addicts will always remain the same. But for now, you run off to your little trailer park in the south, where you can relate to all your toothless, meth addicted whore-friends. Cleary these people are more up to your speed. I'm so sorry that our urban eloquence was too much for you. Have fun, and give me a a heads up when your dying, I wouldn't miss that for all the blood in the world.
"Happy Now?" - L. Kozen
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| R.I.P Joe Daicou |
[26 May 2005|03:59am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 Like A Smiley Bouncing Cathead |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Guns N Roses - Rocket Queen |
] |
This old man, made me cry, he played knick knack between my thighs, with a knick knack, shooting smack righ into his peen, this old man molested me.
Ahh, the memories of tommorow. How I tingle when they linger longer, and how I wince at the smell they leave behind. I've been away for too long, doing far too many things that lack importance.
I think I might have accidently got a job somewhere down the line as well. Soon I will be a waitress at a local coffee shop. Finally I can start "Operation:Kill The Rich White Yuppie Scum By Pouring Cianide In Their Latte's". Oh, the fun it will be to watch all those wasps drop like flies. And I think I might even be getting payed to do this nonetheless! Hooray for whoring! Soon I'll have enough money to become a full time heroin addict, rather then a part time pot head. And thats moving up in the world. Nobody ever said they want to be a junkie when they grow up, except me and Johnathan Brandis.
So it almost seems like im a halfway functioning member of society now, what with all this education and employment. I'm just lucky I have no soul to sell, cause im sure they'd come around looking for that sometime soon as well. But I digress, its for the better. Being dead is fun for awhile, but there is a certain morbid thrill in pretending your not. I certainly hope they don't catch on anytime soon.
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| Why I Failed Poetry Class |
[03 May 2005|09:31pm] |
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mood |
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 IT"S BLEEDING!!!!!!!!!!!!! |
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music |
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Shaye Saint John - So Hot |
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Your babys never coming back
He's chewing on your carnal snack
His brotherly aborted waste
Hates the actions, loves the taste
This underage fatality's
a minor technicality
defining their mortality
and smashing it to bits
understand your dead inside
your soul commited suicide
All this time, twas you that lied
but I knew that all the time
FIN
Our dish soap smells really awful, I hate actually getting it on my hands when I'm forced to do mundane slave labour like dish washery. I always felt odd having to use other soap to wash the smell of that soap off my hand afterwords. It's sort of like those times when your really drunk and throw up on yourself and you end up having to take off your shirt, lie on your back and piss all over yourself to wash it off. I mean it just seems silly, right?
I get the feeling people aren't relating to my relation humour there...Isn't that what people find funny? Like when some overweight brown comedian comes out and says crap like "Yo, ya'll have a microwave....that shit gotsa lotta buttons yo, ya'll know its got buttons and shit! Muh wife dun be cookin in it, and she be like, damn nigga look at all these buttons, but I confused yo, cause women ain't be makin no sense, right?"
What sort of synapse in the brain reacts to that? Why do people applaud like trained seals when any other person in the world, simply talks about something that they themselves have experienced? Why not take this time to laugh it up america, I ate most of what was left of my cousin after the accident as well.
*Throws you a fish
I long for thee, my dear retarded princess. You have a beauty few mortals would understand or have the knowledge to appreciate. Fear not my dear child, I could keep you warm. My underground holding cell has a fireplace, and the fire, fueled by my love doth burn eternally, not unlike the pope.
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| Giving Back A Little |
[02 May 2005|12:50am] |
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mood |
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 I'm Helping, I'm Helping..... |
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music |
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The Delays - Ride It on |
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There's a lot of misguided and confused teens out there, and I know a lot of times all they're looking for is a little help and some answers to the questions they might be asking. Every now and then, I get letters from teens who are just discovering their puberty and getting some scary feelings. I just wanted to take some time out to help provide some answers for the questions they might have.
Here's one from a girl writing from Salt Lake City Mississippi, she asks:
Dear Jolly,
I want to save myself for my husband because I will know for DEFINITE that he will never leave me and that he really, really does love me. But I can't help but feel like the various men I've been with might be the right one! How do I know that I'm not passing up a potentially fun sexual experience?
Sincerely,
Holly McMeatqueen
Dear Meat Queen,
Your concern about multiple pre-marital partners is understandable, during puberty our lust swells like a balloon filled with yeast. No offense dear, but how naive could you be to actually believe that your husband isn't going to just leave you when your fuckhole turns to rubber after popping out one too many unwanted parasites?! Keep in mind that 50% of marriages end in divorce, 30% in suicide, and the other 20% ends in homicide. If your having problems with loving more then one person in your teenage years, your gonna have to make a choice, your either gonna have to lie about who you've slept with, or try to replace your sexual vices with something more chic, like drinking or gambling. I mean, you wouldn't want to be known as the class slut amongst your female peers would you? But who wouldn't want to hang out with the most drinkingest party girl in the whole high school?!
With a creepy kind of love,
Jolly The Octopus
With that out of the way, heres one from Jacksonville, New Mexico
Dear Jolly,
I know that contraception is a sin, but my best friend tells me that I shouldn't worry about it once my BOYF knows the "withdrawal method". However, my dad said that it takes a lot of 'experience' to get it right...i want to trust he knows what he's talking about when it comes to that. But i'm having trouble deciding who I should listen to? What's the worst thing that could happen if by accident my BF did "ejacumalate" inside me? The health teacher says, it could lead to aids or unwanted pregnancy, but I know my BF is clean, and we would accept any child the lord might give us. Should I just not worry then?
Please help me Jolly, my boyfriend says he'll hit me if I don't give it up to him soon.
Sincerely,
Tara "Where's the cream filling" Houston
Dear Tara,
Im gonna guess that your dad was either piss drunk during your conception or he's just lying to scare you. The "pull out" method isn't all that hard to learn. Most guys know when they're gonna blow their load. They should pull out during this time and just jerk off on the chicks boobs. Don't worry about all that "pre-cum" crap that they're might try to feed you. I mean do you really believe that some microscopic dribble of cum is gonna find its way into your uterus without a bunch of friends to help it there? Get real, girl!!!
Worse case scenario, your boyfriend is retarded and he squirts inside of you, there's really nothing to worry about. AIDS takes at least like 10 years to kill you, and who really wants to live that long anyway. And pregnancy is a curable ailment. As for all the other diseases, theres make-up for that, and think of all the guys who called you fat when you were little, what better way to get back at them then giving them syphilis the next time you pass out at one of their keggers.
Your sassy black friend,
Jolly The Cookiepus
And finally, we end with a letter from Woodbridge, Nevada.
Naomi Butterknockers writes:
Dear Jolly,
I listened to your advice on to how to raise money for the abortion, but im afraid my parent's might be catching on! Mom started hiding the money shes saving to pay for our little sister's chemotherapy and I can't find it anywhere! I'm worried that she might know that i've been taking money from it. I'm also really starting to get second thoughts about this, my pastour told me that abortion is murder and that jesus wouldn't possibly forgive me if I went through with it? What am I to do?! Please hurry, theres only about a month left before this abortion turns to pre-natal garabage disposal!
Sincerely,
The Girl Who Should Have Thought Twice About Accepting A "Chill Pill" From A Random Drunken Frat Boy
Dear Victim,
As for the stealing money from your parents, yeah perhaps its getting too risky. You might have one of those anal parents that would call the cops if they caught you. You probably want to go with something thats more reliable and will fetch you more money in a shorter amount of time, like prostitution or drug dealing. I mean at least you could say you earned it this way. Just remember that they have to tell you that there a cop if you ask, otherwise it's entrapment.
And the actual abortion, don't worry about it. Should you really be listening to the same old pervert that probably jerked off your boyfriend in the confession booth 10 years ago? I mean whats worse a dead baby, or a baby thats going to have to live with an alcoholic mother whos never there cause she's to busy whoring herself in front of the local retirement home, so she can get enough cash for a bottle of Wild Turkey and a bucket of chicken? Neither of wich she has any intention of sharing with her neglected child. Might as well end its suffering now. It's not like you can't just make another one later.
With a kind but unsettling smile,
Jolly The Octoroc
Well, thats all the questions I'm willing to answer today. Everyone else is going to have to wait.
If you or your friends have any questions about life, please feel free to write us at extraspecialhoney@ gmail.com. Your problems might be made public here!
Until next time, It's only a sin if you regret it! LIVE FAST! DIE YOUNG!
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| CELEBRATE OR DIE!!! |
[01 May 2005|04:28am] |
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mood |
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Bathing in Walpurgis Oil |
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music |
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The Magnetic Fields - Smoke And Mirrors |
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HAPPY WALPURGISNACHT EVERYONE!!!
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| Another Bright Mourning |
[21 Apr 2005|04:28pm] |
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mood |
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Back To Basics |
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music |
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Del Shannon - Hats Off To Larry |
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I feel like somebody killed part of my soul last night while I lay dreaming. I woke up this morning and felt normal again, as if I had forgotten who I was for a few weeks and then suddenly remembered that I was that stupid kid that I hate so much. What a bummer. But still, I musn't let my own wretched existence get in the way of me being happy. I'll do whatever it takes to forget I exist again, and to lose all memory of who I am and what I was. Denial is a virtue my dear, for it breeds progress. And progress is often progressive, and at times even transcendental. And what more do I want then transcendence?
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| I've lived a thousand times, i've found out what it means to be believeD |
[19 Apr 2005|03:04am] |
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mood |
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 Murderlicious!! |
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music |
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Yeah Yeah Yeah's - Pin |
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Watch me dear friends as I excorcise the spirit of christmas, that fat fuck could use to lose a few pounds if you ask me. This will be the last time he smothers us all with his unmitigated joy near the end of each year.
BOW DOWN!
If I had a calculater I'd recount what happened in these past times, but I don't. So I'll just have to wing it. So heres my side of the story, I only can hope that all my friends are telling the pigs the same thing. One more time in there and I get life. So ya'll get your stories straight, this may be my last chance.
Friday I was stolen from my town, bound and gagged like usual. But being the masochist that I am, the trail of blood was white, not red and dripped from the bottom of me trousers. The first night in captivity was spent cooking things cajun style and performing various aspects of Fluxxuation. I tried to tackle
Nietchze but failed and slammed my face against the living room table instead, my nose is still bleeding to this day, but on some level I enjoy the bitter taste that drips down my throat when I suck it back, a taste not unlike that of battery acid. But lest we forgot, your the vampire, not I.
The next day we awoke and all cleansed ourselves physically and spiritually in anticipation of meeting new friends. And twas a glorious meeting indeed. We all had fun time whirling in the sky with kindred spirits and eating penial cupcakes with our phallic hats on. Its really nice meeting people who can dress just as well as you can, its just sad when your not dressed for the occasion. If only it was darker in the cinema, I would have made like Paul Ruebans. Only I wouldn't get caught by the pigs, but rather force them at gun point to finish the task. Then finish them off anyway for putting their slimy pig mouths on my pristine form. FUCKING SCUM!
After we returned we returned to status quo. They watch movies, I watch my own dreams, or at very least attempt to. When the sun finally ruined our good mood, we mourned the death of our happiness with a bowl of disgusting kraft dinner for breaky, oh how I hate that processed gruel.
Then it was off to slavery for Benji Man and dreamland for everyone else. Upon rising, insignificance occurred and I was returned to my beloved holding cell. Since then, its still been kinda fun for some reason. But for fucks sake, don't tell anyone in the higher ups about this. I know they're probably hunting me down as I speak.
They friggin hate it when I smile.
The following piece is about a Magic deck im working on, there is no metaphorical meaning behind it.
I think im starting to find myself again, and become the nightmare that I once was. And I swear to god, if I get cloned this time Im going to Mutilate during my next turn, and since Im bigger then them, and have more swamps, only they will be put into the graveyard as a state based effect. I've been Mindslavered far too many times and they took more from me then they'll ever know. You put my angel in the RFG and I'll never forgive you for that. AND THATS THE REASON I DON'T FUCKING CAST SPELLS DURING YOUR TURN ANYMORE! THATS WHY I STOPPED PLAYING WHITE! I called the judge on you, and he said you should get a game loss as well for that one. Understand im a fucking legend, and there can only be one out at a time. But Im also old school, and i go by old school rules. If I see anything like me get anywhere near me, only the second one to come into play will be put into the graveyard, and I have a tormods crypt now, You ain't never coming back. Take that to heart mother fucker, I will seriously fucking kill you.
Did you feel that nerd rage? I know I did. And i feel better that i got that off my chest, whew.
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| Just For The Taste Of It........... |
[14 Apr 2005|03:19am] |
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mood |
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Cunnilinguistic |
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music |
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Janis Joplin - Down On Me |
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Too many people talk, like too many other people care. I know this, but I don't really care that much. But if I did, I'd probably stop talking.
Too many good things are happening for it to be good. Certainly my cat will die soon to remind me of my place in life. But for now, I've forgotten.
I recently got a call from the school where I took my High School Definciency test. I was figuring it was the principal calling to yell,"Your a moron Jolly, you failed with flying colours and your doomed to never get anywhere in life" but for some reason she said. "Hey Jolly, I just called to tell you that you have recieved a passing score and now have a diploma" Well, I'll be fucked! Somehow putting "666" as pretty much every answer on the math portion of the test worked. Now if thats not a sign of a higher power, I certainly know what is. So with a little help from the dark lord himself, I somehow managed to get a diploma, without studying, and only going to about 8 2 hour classes. So fuck what they told you in school, you can drop out, slack off, get wasted, spend years just fluttering around drinking, smoking and popping whatever pill is fed to you and then get a high school diploma in 2 weeks whenever you want. If I only knew about this neat loop-hole sooner I would have known about it earlier and put it off for 5 years.
Now mommy owes me an I-pod! HOORAY FOR JOLLY!!!!!!
Then my sweet friend bought me the new Judas Priest CD since he promised he'd buy it for me if I passed. Thank you so much dear Matt, that was very kind of you. I'm thinking of writing a novel called "How to Succeed As A Failure" then when it goes to number 1, I can use the money to move to Canada. That is, if im moving to Canada.....
Today was a super duper special fun day as well! I hung out with my sweet friends Adam and Megan and we had a really nice time playing card games. Then Megan and I ate peaches together. They were hands down, the tastiest peaches I've ever had. I almost wish my stupid cigarettes didn't force me to pollute my taste buds with their awfulness, rather then allow me to savour the sweet flavour of delight that danced upon my pallette afterwards. Oh my gosh, that was the most fun I've had since back in the day when I still had feelings.
I wish I wasn't so scared of joyfullness. From what I heard, it can actually feel nice to be happy, once you don't go about doing it all the time.
But I have no reason to worry, I don't plan on doing any of that smiling crap anytime soon. A series of fortunate events, isn't going to take away my little security blanket of hopelessness and misery that keeps me warm and safe year round. I know better then that.
In the same vein though, that blanket is getting a little dirty........
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