page six's Blurty

Time:

1:06 pm.

Since I can't seem to string together a coherent sentence, here is a list.

1. When I go to sleep un-stoned after a week of having gone to sleep very-stoned, my dreams are quite the strange ones, and when I awaken the world seems a bit off.

2. I'd way rather have diarrhea than be constipated.

3. I used to read Wizard all the time like it weren't no thang.

4. If I could please just be an actress--a real actress, with like, Oscars and stuff--oh man, would that be the fuckin' SHIT, or what.

5. Remember how I haven't had a real school load since high school? And now it's like, "Homework? Wha...?"

6. I was just reading little Mary's dilly and I started taking a quiz linked in there and I totally forgot about this entry for about half an hour.

7. A popup just showed me a picture of Halle Barry, a picture of Jennifer Lopez and a picture of Beyonce Knowles, and then told me I could win $10,000 by picking J.Lo out of the three, so I picked Halle Barry and they still said "CONGRATULATIONS!!!"

8. The kid next to me is looking at squash.

9. The problem is that buses make me horny.

10. I am wearing two jackets, as is my wont, and the one on top I stole from Lauren-Ashley because it has armpit vents you can open by unzipping them. And also pink and silver stripes. Come on.

11. I could eat tamales forever.

12. My orange purse says KUNG FU and smells of duct tape.

13. Dr. Pepper makes the world taste better.

14. "Okay, there was this lady, right? And she bought some knives, yeah, but she didn't buy the forks. So it was Thanksgiving and she was lifting the turkey out of the pan, and her forks slipped and it fell on the floor! And she had this dog, this St. Bernard, and he comes lumbering in and she's all, 'No! No! Don't touch the turkey!' but he was big and he knocked her over. In the confusion her shirtsleeve came too near the stove, on which potatoes and corn and stuff were all cooking, and her shirt caught on fire, so she freaked out, ripped off her shirt and threw it. It hit a curtain and fwoom, her whole house burned down. All because she didn't buy CUTCO turning forks."

15. Mmm, Corona.

16. Forty minutes 'till class.

17. People ask me what I'm taking, and when I get to cosmology they're like, "So you're learning how to do hair and makeup and stuff?" And I go, "Yes."

18. My boss told me the reason she's so hard on me is because I have "natural leadership abilities." Then she went on to ask me if I had a lot of friends, to which I said "Kinda" (meaning no), and then she asked me if a lot of people came to me for advice, and I said "Yeah" (which also meant no). Nobody has ever, not ever, accused me of having any sort of "leadership abilities," natural or otherwise. So I'm like, fuck yes.

19. My life would be a lot easier with a driver's license, and if I wasn't so asian I'd get one, but seeing as how I can't even pass the test in Westminster, which is as we all know the land of the asians, I think it's the bus and the bikeride and the walking for me, forever and ever amen.

20. I have these pants that make bikerides way too good, because of the placement of a certain seam.

21. Once I went for pho with Scott and we got chicken in it, but I thought it was turkey and I still do.

22. I'm just bored and that's why I'm doing this.

23. Stephanie was in my dream last night, and I was in a car with some people and she was sitting on a round thing with Amorina I think, and I was like, "Ohhhh yeah," and then I was looking at her as we drove off and she started laughing and waving. That's what happened.

24. I'm carrying a knife set around school today and cutting pennies with the supershears.

25. I just found out that a friend of mine from school, a cool kid named Sean (not the one who's in love with me, but another), a Sean who loves to smoke herb and eat wonderful victuals, is as much in love with Shakira as I was once, and it's totally like, whoa, nigga.

26. Oh, and Mami? YOU. ARE. SO. FUCKING. RETARDED.

27. I would love fried chicken right now.

28. aah! aah! aah! HOLY SHIT, fuckin' finally.

Comments: Add Your Own.

Subject:	i am in SUCH. the SHITTIEST mood. in the world.
Time:	10:29 am.
Mood:	cranky.
Music:	"with you" - jessica simpson.

So then... it was me and Scott, and we were at Rick's place to see him and James and the stripper pole and some crap BCs, and I was looking at Rick--who is of course, my ex boyfriend--and I started wondering, "What the hell'm I doing with this asshole?" Referring to Scott, because, you know, he is one. Why am I with him? The sex? (Yes.) The drugs? (Yes.) The company? ... Fuck no. I actually enjoyed Rick's company, which is more than I can say for pretty much any guy I've seen since him. I do not understand why I'm even with Scott. He's boring. He's an asshole. He never shuts up about himself, about his friends, about this hot girl or that hot girl who was hitting on him this time or that time or the other, and I just want to grab him by the shoulders and go, "Scott! Shut up! Just shut... the fuck... up!" And then rip off his arm and hit him with it until he actually did shut up. But that would mean no gifts from Humboldt. Is it wrong for me to just stay with him for the sex and the drugs and the occasional rock and roll? Or should I follow my instincts and say adios?

I like when I have a paper due in a day and I haven't even read the book it's on yet.

And I was late for school today (yet again).

And CUTCO? Don't get me started on fuckin' CUTCO.

Yost later on, though. And that's always fun.

Comments: Add Your Own.

Subject:	forever guarantee... on your ass
Time:	8:34 pm.

So, quickchopping isn't for me, as evidenced by the GIANT CHUNK OF FINGER I seem to be missing.

And hm, maybe if you tell me to call you up at eight to set things up for tomorrow, Tera dear, you should like, be around? So I don't have to chase you around the world? But that always was your way, wasn't it. You know, for all the renovations you've made to your character and life, including the dropping of yours truly, you haven't changed one fucking bit, stupid whore.

Definition of a drug addict: Someone who starts a DXM trip an hour and a half before her recovery meeting. Oops...

"With a taste of your lips
I’m on a ride
You’re toxic
I’m slipping under
With a taste of poison paradise
I’m addicted to you
Don’t you know that you’re toxic
And I love what you do
Don’t you know that you’re toxic" - "Toxic", Britney Spears

That's fucking right, bitch. Can I put Britney Spears on the same mix as Brujeria, and throw Bond and Bad Religion on there too for good measure? (Wow... that's a lot of B's.)

p.s. Does punctuation go inside quotes, á la "Title," or is it like, "Title", as above?

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Subject:	where are the guards? guards!
Time:	9:38 am.
Mood:	okay.

Boy am I uncomfortable. I hate dressing well, but Ms. Wickless called me up last night and was all, "Be sure to dress in business-appropriate clothing." So I was like, "FINE" and now I'm wearing clothes in which I can't sit anywhere dirty--as is my wont--or eat anything messy. All for a stupid training meeting bullshit.

God! I was supposed to take my driver's test today, but there is no one to take me. So now I have to get another appointment for like a month from now. Grand.

"Captain Video on my screen
Tell me where I might have been
Fucked up on some heroin
Lacking beta-carotene" - AFMAMYGS

Remember when I was in love with Pedersen? And like, I told her, and she was like "Oh," and then one two three everyone was over it? Yeah, I remember that too.

So. Tera on Sunday. "21 Grams." Is it okay if I totally get turned on during that one part, and have to leave the theater? She'll totally know where I'm going--she knows how I feel about Naomi Watts. Mmm yes. Scream at me baby, that's right, louder baby, uh-huh. Ooh yeah, that's it. Here is my shoe--do with it what you will. I would dearly love to watch, however. Mayn't I?

But I'm nervous about Tera though. Will she look at my eyes and know the disgusting scenes I've conjured, of which she and I are the stars? Will she know what, exactly what, I'd like to do to her, and how much, and where? Scott and I discuss threesomes all the time, and as he has seen a photograph of Tera, he would love her to come play. Should I mention it, as I would quite enjoy a diet sex excursion with the co-creator of the term? My vagina sucks at decision making.

Mountain Dew for breakfast. It builds character.

Comments: Add Your Own.

Subject:	DXM
Time:	7:11 pm.

Ughhhhhh, I feel awful.

Dude, never take twenty of anything, ok? Even if it does only add up to 300 mg. My god.

I kinda liked the feeling that I wasn't me, though. I liked walking around on legs that weren't mine, saying things in a voice that wasn't mine, and generally not being normal for a couple hours.

Dude. I was fucked up.

I bought them after school and took them all at once, all twenty, each with 15 mg dextromethorphan. I thought they weren't working, weren't working, weren't working, so I stopped at the bookstore and read about orgasms for awhile and when I looked up I realized––they were indeed working. I started tripping like you wouldn't believe. People were staring because I couldn't walk in a straight line. It was great.

I also liked the part where I picked up my backpack and purse and binder and it all felt like I wasn't really picking up anything. I was a robot! A magic robot! Ahoy!

Although it is seven fifteen, I have a headache now and would like to go to bed.

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Subject:	anagnosis
Time:	11:07 am.

smudgy thumbs and forefingers, and nuts and bolts and holes and pieces, was books then people then drugs then ?, driver's test, door-to-door knife seller, and hills like white elephants, away with you Sean, condom handover, and masturbation instead of homework, and bus schedule, newly tightwaisted trousers, sombre outfit, xanax, and suicide (soda), grip the fluff and bear down.

so i walks up to the ticket seller and i says ((in a very kinda voice like my ::kkshhhh::)), "KUNG FU" and after, to she goes the hat man, the flower grew and reprogrammed the DNA. all my life i ate the ::raisins::, and still none enough. ::tattoo:: gots a blotches on it, where is the ink for more line tests? god bless america!

if i could just X then Y, and all would be Z. y=mx+b, discuss.

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Subject:	file under: too much information
Time:	10:31 pm.

Boy oh boy did I ever get fucked tonight. Woo-wee. We cruised around HB until we found a secluded parking lot at a turnoff from Ellis. There was a marsh and the lights of the city shone yellow and white. I sat on his lap in the passenger seat and it hurt so fucking bad at first, but with each thrust it got easier and easier, and right as I started getting into it he blew so that was over. Next time there will be a bed involved, and nakedness.

Can we not mention that now I've had a second Mexican-on-the-bus incident?

Ever have one of those weeks wherein you're absolutely insatiable, no matter how much you masturbate, no matter how much you fuck? This is one of those weeks. It is as though I am controlled by my vaginal impulses––I feel like a guy must feel, wanting to fuck everything in my path––whoo. I need to go.

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Subject:	i don't know what the deal is with the dates, it's tuesday morning
Time:	10:14 pm.

"My head is still in a strange place. All week I have felt somehow unsafe---not in a personal-safety, look-out-for-that-falling-piano sort of way but in the sense that we live in a Big Scary World Of Scariness, and it sometimes works to bravely stare into the existential void and to laugh in the face of bleak reality, unless you have a one-year-old clinging to your leg. Then you can't just laugh and be all French with the void. You have to...I don't know what you have to do. Tell her a story about the void? Try to pretend it's all okay? ('Nora sweetie, that's not a vast uncaring universe, where one has to engage in the futile struggle of self-definition, clinging to the Romantic notion that one even has a self! That's...a puppy dog!')" - mimi smartypants, saying what I hope I'll be saying how I hope I'll be saying it when I'm a grownup... ohpleaseohplease, let me get a book deal because I am so clever, ohpleaseohplease...

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Time:

8:57 pm.

So I'm depressed. This is nothing new. Sure, the depression takes a new form nowadays, but still. The core symptoms are there: listlessness, irritability, weight gain, repetitive trains of thought bordering on obsession. Check, check, check, check. And it's like, why even bother anymore? I mean I've done enough. I've caused enough pain. I've been the object of enough derision. I've put enough people through hell. And now Tera again. And Ann? What the hell? Fuck it. My life has become a mediocre pop song. I'm trying so hard––so fucking hard––to just move on, to live my life, to come into my own. And what now? What has become of me now? I have become a fat, ignorant, hedonistic lying slut. I deserve several rounds of the old forty-less-one. I deserve to be gang-raped by a hooting bunch of drunken frat boys. I deserve to be disowned, stripped of my belongings and shipped to a convent. I deserve to be sent to hell––but not until I've worn my life and God's patience thin as a cheap condom. The divine grace of the holy spirit carries one only so far, and then, in those dark places where the spirit never lurks, the crime of being comes into full play. I nurse my wounds with the pungent ointment of hedonism for now. Into which hole will I next dive when life starts to explode again?

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