I just can't say 'No."

It's like every time I talk to Andy Smart my balls shrink to the size of peanuts.

Horcruxes

Jake: Jesus lives in the heart of every Christian.

Me: Wait, so Jesus split himself up into 10 million Horcruxes?

Jake: Yup. Gotta kill all the Christians before you can even touch Jesus.

Looks like we have work to do.

Ryan says:

I just thought that you two were the greatest thing since extendable ears.

23 hours

It's so hard to
not call him baby.
you can't heal your
heart talking to the one
you left.
doesn't make sense.
still
miss
him.

Day 1

and I just want to be tucked in and kissed good night. I know this is the right thing, but God, it's going to be difficult.

Ovary Monsters and Unintelligent Design.

Ever had menstrual cramps so bad that you spent a few hours over the toilet throwing up? That was me this morning. Thank you, God, for using your almighty wrath to teach me a lesson for being born female.

It's about time.

It's about time I take my own damn advice in my own damn songs that I wrote, damnit.

I'm leaving this place and going to study music elsewhere. I'm going to make this work. This is what I'm good at.

Anything else is just pretending.

Cards.

I just pulled the if-I-get-cervical-cancer-it's-completely-your-fault card.

Wait, who put that card in the deck?! Oh, you did. Dickhead.

Dream

Had a dream last night that Jake and I had a baby. Scary, scary, scary. Also we had a fight over pasta. Or something lame.

Murphy Law(king).

He’s made your grass grow thicker
(in Hell, yes)--
or less blue than mine
but I’m wishing for a triangle
with long enough legs to
satiate my chase tooth.
Scratch that. I’ll take just
one leg—make it a (secret)
rectangle.

this is, of course,
only Murphy talking.

Blogger doesn't accept my fucking formatting.

You are born old and you read and die heavy.

but on a brighter note, this
Monday-morning doodle resembles (slightly)
a dragon,

if it were a bat,

dressing blindly as a shrimp and

my cursive is hopping fences
falling flat on its curly face.

There’s a breeze that reads my poetry

perches and breathes down on my neck

right above this seat—
or maybe it only happens 3
days a week.
Insanity is doing the same thing

saying the dome theme

dumbing the numb scene

(over and overt send red rover over)
while expecting different results.

Why the hell do I always sit here?

Helmets.

Sometimes while driving, I'll pass by someone on a motorcycle and temporarily freak out. I'll touch my head thinking "Oh no! I forgot my helmet!"

Then I'll remember that I'm in a car.

it wasn't for her,
but the first time for me
seeing those infant
cyan eyes watching
flustered strings

you turned them electric
blue eyes glued
to your fingers
less like strumming
more like stumbling
"there's no pick"

she didn't know that

ropewalking

I could be your entire world
hanging from a string on
none but your
little finger

so long as you know
that strings
are not leashes.

Walmart sucks.

Seriously? Seriously. This would happen at Walmart.

Raining on parades.

"Shoot for the moon; even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."...

...as long you take a literal shit-ton of rocket fuel, because the stars are another 4.3 lightyears away and actually, you're more likely to just die in an empty space abyss.

But that's awesome you're tryin'.

Mankind.

I strongly believe that chips and salsa is one of the best things to come out of mankind.

Followed closely by penicillin.

Air mattress.

The past three Blue Knights camps, I have found myself waking up in the middle of the night with my hips touching the floor while the rest of my body is still suspended mid-air-mattress. I have come up with two possible explanations for this:

Either

1) There's a hole in my air mattress.
or
2) My ass is colossal.

Trick question. Both are true.

Still, a new air mattress is in order.

Television.

I haven't watched much television this semester. Not because I don't have access to one--nah, there's one in my room turned up to 85% volume everyday from 4 to midnight at least. But what's the point?

Besides, I guarantee the drama/bullshit that happens on my floor and in my dorm is significantly more entertaining than 98% of the shows on TV.

Not to mention people watching turns brains a lot less mushy than cable does.

I can be passive aggressive, too.

In which sizes do hypocrites come?
I’ll order a large
with a side of
bitch sauce
zesty. creamy. love it.
fuck it.

cleaniness ≠ godliness.

No, I didn't take your chips
it was one of the roommate's friends.
but rejoice! for now it is
her breath that smells of
sour cream
& onion.
 

Quote

"Your feet need to be in time. I don't care who you are, what color you are, what you do or don't eat, your feet need to be in time--unless a fuckin' bomb blows a giant hole in the grass on your way there--and even then I expect your foot to hit the ground on time." --Sully

Pro-life.

It's been pro-life week here on campus, as organized by some non-student organization with giant pictures of "aborted" babies (the pictures are misrepresented, but that's hardly the point).

Today, it's been snowing, so the 10-foot posters are not up. Looks like they had to abort their plans.

Hahahaha.

Failure.

Fortune cookie sez:

"Failure is just another chance to succeed."



Except heart failure.

Pfft. A model on a beach, what else is new?

Playing sousaphone?! Without a mouthpiece?! Absurd!

Don't buy pears at Walmart.

Well, I guess you could, but don't bother eating them.

The Dentist.

Last week, I had to get some dental work done. The assistant was a really nice young woman.

Her: God, your eyelashes are so long. You don't know what I would do for eyelashes like those.
Me: Oh, thanks!
Her: No, seriously. I would kill for lashes like that.


Yeah, I was feeling pretty encouraged as she turned on the drill.

Neighbors.

The neighbors across the street installed these totally awesome motion-sensing floodlights. There are four of them and they light up the whole street if you blink from our driveway.

Freaks me out at night because they go on every 15 or so seconds. Dunno if they're actually keeping burglars away or simply contributing to the growing number of seizures in the neighborhood.

Either way, at least we don't have to pay for them.

Dear girl at Safeway,

The extensions you put in your boy-short haircut don't make it look like you have long hair. Instead it looks like you're constantly running your fingers through a long plastic mullet wig. And it doesn't look cool, no matter what your mullet-headed emo/scene friends say.

Irony of the week.

"Did you hear that comment Obama made about Special Olympics? God, he's so retarded."

And you're a dumbass. Watch your hypocritical fuckin' mouth.