Wednesday night. I lay in bed. Plate of carrots and ranch beside me. There is one carrot on the plate I refuse to eat because it has brown stuff on it. This carrot looks deceivingly gross, though I know it will probably taste much better than the flawless one beside it, which will probably be that one carrot that tastes like chemicals. Kind of a metaphor to life wouldn't you say?
The Simpsons is on because I like noise coming from the television at all times. I don't like The Simpsons, I never have. But it's either that or one of those new C.S.I. wannabe shows. Or a show called "Brothers and Sisters" which I pathetically tuned into a few nights ago about old people, and how they have sex. Also starring that really skinny bitch from Ally McBeal. (Score!)
And I was right. I just took a bite of the seemingly perfect carrot and it DID taste like chemicals. I am not making this up.
Wow. That plate of carrots and ranch sure did not suffice my unrelenting desire to get fucked up.
Sometimes I am so lazy that I will actually try to survive in extremely uncomfortable situations due to the sole fact that I don't want to get up. Take for instance, the heat. It's far too hot in here. So you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna open the window. Because the window is behind me, and the heat knob would require me to stand.
I often wonder what kind of person you would have to be to prefer cats over dogs. My perception is that people ONLY have cats because they, for one reason or another, can't get a dog. But to prefer a cat? I don't trust those people. Two out of every thirty cats is actually semi-decent, and one out of those two cats will end up being a fatass. That means you have like an 80% chance of getting a cat that isn't COMPLETELY fucked. People who prefer cats also don't know how to love, studies show. What studies? Just some studies. Whatever.
People who prefer cats also believe that the chicks in the "Loveline" and "Quest" commercials actually look like that, and aren't, in reality, twenty year divorced, middle-aged broads with deep, sultry voices and compulsive eating habits.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Jingle ballz.
I am not going to write any New Years resolutions this year because they're dumb. If there is one thing I have learned about myself up to this point it's that I will never exercise.
I think I have done all the changing anyone possibly could within the last couple months and that's good enough for me. Rather than tell a bunch of people I'm going to do a bunch of shit I'll forget about in a week, I'm just going to keep on doing what I'm doing. Because it seems to be working out.
If I could have anything for Christmas, repercussions not an option, I would choose a lifetime supply of Vicodin. There are times once in awhile when I wish someone would step on my foot really hard and break a bone or accidentally do something temporarily painful but not life-altering to me so I could get a prescription to Vicodin. I realize this is somewhat fucked and Vicodin's not that cool anyway, right? I know.
I have already forgotten about that thought though, and instead I'm going to talk about some other things that don't matter. Like milk, and how good it is.
There's a reason Santa drinks milk with his cookies. He has good taste. Although I do think Santa uses milk as a cover-up for his severe alcoholism. Why else would he be so fat with such a red, bulbous nose?
I like to think that people prefer hand-made gifts over store-bought gifts and this is how I justify buying myself shit during the Holidays.
It'd be cool if I walked into my room on Christmas day and there was a naked man standing under my doorway. Mistletoe or not, it'd be a nice surprise. Instead, I'm probably going to be experiencing Zoe in an ugly sweater laying on my floor eating yogurt and talking about how she really needs to get laid.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
I think I have done all the changing anyone possibly could within the last couple months and that's good enough for me. Rather than tell a bunch of people I'm going to do a bunch of shit I'll forget about in a week, I'm just going to keep on doing what I'm doing. Because it seems to be working out.
If I could have anything for Christmas, repercussions not an option, I would choose a lifetime supply of Vicodin. There are times once in awhile when I wish someone would step on my foot really hard and break a bone or accidentally do something temporarily painful but not life-altering to me so I could get a prescription to Vicodin. I realize this is somewhat fucked and Vicodin's not that cool anyway, right? I know.
I have already forgotten about that thought though, and instead I'm going to talk about some other things that don't matter. Like milk, and how good it is.
There's a reason Santa drinks milk with his cookies. He has good taste. Although I do think Santa uses milk as a cover-up for his severe alcoholism. Why else would he be so fat with such a red, bulbous nose?
I like to think that people prefer hand-made gifts over store-bought gifts and this is how I justify buying myself shit during the Holidays.
It'd be cool if I walked into my room on Christmas day and there was a naked man standing under my doorway. Mistletoe or not, it'd be a nice surprise. Instead, I'm probably going to be experiencing Zoe in an ugly sweater laying on my floor eating yogurt and talking about how she really needs to get laid.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
THANKSGIVING!
In honor of it being Thanksgiving tomorrow, I have compiled a list of all the things I am thankful for this year.
- Living in a newly built home that has an instant fireplace and instant heat. Waiting for the heat to come on is always dreadful.
- Living with badass roommates who always decide to do all the cleaning while I'm at work. Thanks guys!
- Zoe's easily transformable (clay) face and the fact that she will let me take pictures of her looking like complete shit and put them on Facebook.
- My mom for being hot. Also for buying me groceries, always having food at her house, going to church with me, always having good advice, being the BEST cook in town, being a great listener, and just being the best mom ever.
- My sisters: Donna for always being on Facebook when I am and Facebook chatting me through the most boring of days. Mary for always saying things like "Henna look at those little tiny wrists!" or "Woahh Hennsters you my sister!" Gracie for being the sister that will listen to my songs on her ipod. Nola for just being Nola... never a complaint coming from this ginger. Also her wardrobe. Zoe for being my husband.
- Darci for her boobs (duh), but also for being my right-hand woman and partner in crime.
- Lacey, not for being across the country but for the fact that I know when she comes back she will still be my best friend.
- Boys.
- Elliott Smith on rainy nights.
- Black clothing. You never let me down.
- The Westwood Village Target. I have so much love for you. You smell like new shoes and popcorn and material possessions. Never leave my side.
- Living in a great city. Working at a spot where I can look out the window and see the water and the city lights and sunrises and sunsets.
- Awesome tattoo artists.
- Guitars. Always there for me in good times and bad.
- Diet Coke.
- Not being born with any weird genetic problems or diseases.
- Met Market and everything in it.
- Having a plethora of people in my life that give a shit about me and that I give a shit about.
- Make-up. Not sure what I'd do without it.
- Bleach and tones.
- The fact that at one time good music was still made and at least I have that to hold on to.
- The feeling of being in love with someone.
- Reefer.
- A secure job, a lot of people don't have one.
- Being able to text. It really alleviates all awkwardness.
- Facebook. I am very thankful for Facebook. It cures my boredom and it has helped me meet literally every single boyfriend. Thanks Facebook!
- My bosses Hiep and Loreen for keeping me around for 5 years.
- New friends.
- New socks.
- Christmas decorations. I'm going all out this year. Soccer mom status.
- The puppies living inside my dog Coco. They are going to be bundles of joy.
- All my metal mansion friends. You are all just good, solid friends through thick and thin. You have glorified high-fives, long hair and bands like Pantera. I knew nothing of this before I met you guys.
- Road trips to SF where only Zoe can drive.
- Bubbles sammys.
- Bandannas.
- Head.
- Coziness. Clean house, candles burning, fireplace, movies, cookies, good company, heat, happiness.
- Not ever having gotten preggers like everyone else.
- My pops.
- Big family dinners where everyone is laughing.
- Snoqualmie falls.
- Dan Auerbach- thanks for being born.
- Federal Way: never thought I'd say this but we had some good times this year.
- Straighteners. All of us would look like we got electrocuted without them.
- Snuggling.
- Living in a newly built home that has an instant fireplace and instant heat. Waiting for the heat to come on is always dreadful.
- Living with badass roommates who always decide to do all the cleaning while I'm at work. Thanks guys!
- Zoe's easily transformable (clay) face and the fact that she will let me take pictures of her looking like complete shit and put them on Facebook.
- My mom for being hot. Also for buying me groceries, always having food at her house, going to church with me, always having good advice, being the BEST cook in town, being a great listener, and just being the best mom ever.
- My sisters: Donna for always being on Facebook when I am and Facebook chatting me through the most boring of days. Mary for always saying things like "Henna look at those little tiny wrists!" or "Woahh Hennsters you my sister!" Gracie for being the sister that will listen to my songs on her ipod. Nola for just being Nola... never a complaint coming from this ginger. Also her wardrobe. Zoe for being my husband.
- Darci for her boobs (duh), but also for being my right-hand woman and partner in crime.
- Lacey, not for being across the country but for the fact that I know when she comes back she will still be my best friend.
- Boys.
- Elliott Smith on rainy nights.
- Black clothing. You never let me down.
- The Westwood Village Target. I have so much love for you. You smell like new shoes and popcorn and material possessions. Never leave my side.
- Living in a great city. Working at a spot where I can look out the window and see the water and the city lights and sunrises and sunsets.
- Awesome tattoo artists.
- Guitars. Always there for me in good times and bad.
- Diet Coke.
- Not being born with any weird genetic problems or diseases.
- Met Market and everything in it.
- Having a plethora of people in my life that give a shit about me and that I give a shit about.
- Make-up. Not sure what I'd do without it.
- Bleach and tones.
- The fact that at one time good music was still made and at least I have that to hold on to.
- The feeling of being in love with someone.
- Reefer.
- A secure job, a lot of people don't have one.
- Being able to text. It really alleviates all awkwardness.
- Facebook. I am very thankful for Facebook. It cures my boredom and it has helped me meet literally every single boyfriend. Thanks Facebook!
- My bosses Hiep and Loreen for keeping me around for 5 years.
- New friends.
- New socks.
- Christmas decorations. I'm going all out this year. Soccer mom status.
- The puppies living inside my dog Coco. They are going to be bundles of joy.
- All my metal mansion friends. You are all just good, solid friends through thick and thin. You have glorified high-fives, long hair and bands like Pantera. I knew nothing of this before I met you guys.
- Road trips to SF where only Zoe can drive.
- Bubbles sammys.
- Bandannas.
- Head.
- Coziness. Clean house, candles burning, fireplace, movies, cookies, good company, heat, happiness.
- Not ever having gotten preggers like everyone else.
- My pops.
- Big family dinners where everyone is laughing.
- Snoqualmie falls.
- Dan Auerbach- thanks for being born.
- Federal Way: never thought I'd say this but we had some good times this year.
- Straighteners. All of us would look like we got electrocuted without them.
- Snuggling.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Bugs.
Ants: Ants are probably the most pointless bug. WHY do we have ants? I often wonder this. What, so anteaters can eat them? When was the last time you heard of an anteater being necessary for any reason? A piece of chicken dropped on the ground this morning, five minutes later I go to pick it up and throw it away and a big ass colony of ants had found their fucking breakfast. So now there's a crawling piece of chicken on the ground. Are you kidding me? Ants are like the polygamist families of people. You know there's one dude ant that gets all the girl ants prego and they just have tons and tons of kids. Then when they find a piece of chicken they all have to tell the rest of the fucking community about it so they can all come together and feast.
Bees: Bees make honey. In my opinion, I'd sacrifice honey for the extinction of bees.
Flies: I compare flies to the stupid people of this world. Their big fat bodies fly around the room in circles for hours at a time, bumping and crashing into windows and never finding their way out. Even if you leave a window or door open the fly will not be able to figure its way out of the room. Flies do nothing for this world but bother people. They don't even contribute anything except being food for spiders. Which leads me to my next point....
Spiders: Spiders eat flies. I get it. "Don't kill the spider because it eats all the bad bugs!" Well how about if there WEREN'T any bad bugs to begin with we wouldn't fucking need spiders now would we? Spiders are the worst. Hands down the worst. Some of them are small and dumb and when you get close enough they just kind of freeze and you can smash the shit out of them with a shoe. Those ones I can deal with. It's the giant smart ones that I really hate. You know they've got these massive brains and they're all just trying to fuck with us. You know they're thinking, "this bitch killed my cousin last week... ima climb in her bed tonight and when she wakes up ima be sittin on her chest. Then when she freaks out and tries to kill me, ima crawl away as fast as I can and hide in a crevice in the wall. Or ima crawl somewhere really high up that she can't reach and just stare at her for the rest of the day. I will not move from this spot for days at a time, just so I can mock her. If she ever gets smart and tries to spray me down with Windex ima just sit here and not die. Cuz I'm fucking invincible and I'm so big and fat that even the toxic shit that could kill a human won't kill me."
Moths: Moths are fucking disgusting. Any bug that makes a large crash when it hits something is not a bug I'm a fan of. Moths, like flies, are fucking stupid. They just fly around looking for light sources. I'd compare them to like, a really horny dude at a party trying to get laid. Just searching and searching and searching the room for somewhere to land.
Cockroaches: Even though they got a deceivingly cool name, they are not cool. They infest themselves in dirty fucking places and populate like wildfire. They're like a big group of ICP raver kids. They all hang out together and pretend to be homeless. Then they hang out in the grossest possible places and squirm around with each other.
Bees: Bees make honey. In my opinion, I'd sacrifice honey for the extinction of bees.
Flies: I compare flies to the stupid people of this world. Their big fat bodies fly around the room in circles for hours at a time, bumping and crashing into windows and never finding their way out. Even if you leave a window or door open the fly will not be able to figure its way out of the room. Flies do nothing for this world but bother people. They don't even contribute anything except being food for spiders. Which leads me to my next point....
Spiders: Spiders eat flies. I get it. "Don't kill the spider because it eats all the bad bugs!" Well how about if there WEREN'T any bad bugs to begin with we wouldn't fucking need spiders now would we? Spiders are the worst. Hands down the worst. Some of them are small and dumb and when you get close enough they just kind of freeze and you can smash the shit out of them with a shoe. Those ones I can deal with. It's the giant smart ones that I really hate. You know they've got these massive brains and they're all just trying to fuck with us. You know they're thinking, "this bitch killed my cousin last week... ima climb in her bed tonight and when she wakes up ima be sittin on her chest. Then when she freaks out and tries to kill me, ima crawl away as fast as I can and hide in a crevice in the wall. Or ima crawl somewhere really high up that she can't reach and just stare at her for the rest of the day. I will not move from this spot for days at a time, just so I can mock her. If she ever gets smart and tries to spray me down with Windex ima just sit here and not die. Cuz I'm fucking invincible and I'm so big and fat that even the toxic shit that could kill a human won't kill me."
Moths: Moths are fucking disgusting. Any bug that makes a large crash when it hits something is not a bug I'm a fan of. Moths, like flies, are fucking stupid. They just fly around looking for light sources. I'd compare them to like, a really horny dude at a party trying to get laid. Just searching and searching and searching the room for somewhere to land.
Cockroaches: Even though they got a deceivingly cool name, they are not cool. They infest themselves in dirty fucking places and populate like wildfire. They're like a big group of ICP raver kids. They all hang out together and pretend to be homeless. Then they hang out in the grossest possible places and squirm around with each other.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
How to live life and not be an asshole at the same time.
DO: Be straight-edge.
DON'T: Shove it in everyone's faces. For example, "Hey man, want a beer?" "What the fuck man, I'm straight-edge I don't do things like that."
DO: Be vegan.
DON'T: Continuously tell meat eaters about the slow and painful death of pigs in factories.
DO: Be knowledgeable about music.
DON'T: Be that high-and-mighty music kid. This includes questioning others on the names of albums, appearing shocked when one has not heard of "this band" or "that band", trying to convince people that Pink Floyd is the best band that ever lived and getting furious when someone disagrees, making others feel ashamed because they don't know about the fucking indie bands you listen to.
DO: Rock your own style.
DON'T: Turn yourself into a walking grandma/grandpa.
DO: Be in a band and be proud of it.
DON'T: Make yourself look like a douche by never shutting up about it.
DO: Be a non-smoker.
DON'T: Warn smokers about the health risks of smoking. THEY KNOW.
DO: Stand firm in your beliefs.
DON'T: Push them on everyone.
DO: Cocaine once at a party.
DON'T: Buy eight balls from Jermaine who's a friend of a friend of a friend and then do them alone at 2 o'clock in the morning with Jermaine because he's the only human around that will hang out with you.
DO: Have a couple cocktails.
DON'T: Have a couple cocktails, eight shots of Jager, twelve beers, and three Four Lokos on a Tuesday afternoon at brunch.
DO: Get tattoos.
DON'T: Get tattoos IF: you are going to be worried that it's going to hurt, everyone else is doing it, you just turned 18, you're 17 but this guy you know will do them out of his house, you are going to bring in your own shitty drawing and be a picky mother fucker, you are worried more about how much it's going to cost than how good of a tattoo you're going to get, you don't know what you want, you don't have any tattoos but want your knuckles done so you can look badass, the shop you're at will actually tattoo your knuckles when you don't have any other tattoos, you want your boyfriend/girlfriend's name.
DO: Crazy things in bed.
DON'T: Brag about it.
DO: Smoke weed.
DON'T: Smoke yourself stupid.
DO: Ecstasy every once in a blue moon.
DON'T: Do ecstasy weekly or buy pills from sketchy dudes.
DO: Be conscious of your weight and looking good.
DON'T: Tell others exactly what you ate today and ask them if "that's bad".
DO: Be a trust fund kid.
DON'T: Act like a trust fund kid.
DO: Drink pop.
DON'T: Call it soda.
DO: Have a Facebook.
DON'T: Use it to let everyone know how miserable you are. Examples, "Another night alone, I'm so sick of not having someone to sleep next to me *tear*".
DO: Get fake tits.
DON'T: Do it because someone told you you should.
DO: Go tanning.
DON'T: Be orange.
DO: Be generous with gifts and money when you feel like you want to.
DON'T: Keep score.
DO: Follow politics and vote.
DON'T: Get mad at me if I choose not to.
DO: Work hard.
DON'T: Continuously whine about how tired you are all the time.
DO: Have a boyfriend/girlfriend.
DON'T: Talk about them 24/7 or relate every given topic back to them.
DO: Get a credit card to build credit.
DON'T: Get a credit card to "build credit" then use it to support your shopping habit or get talked into leasing a car that you will be paying off for the rest of your life.
DO: Take compliments when they are given.
DON'T: Fish for compliments.
DO: Dance.
DON'T: Freak dance.
DO: Thumbs down.
DON'T: Flip the bird.
DO: Be green.
DON'T: Scold everyone around you for not recycling.
DO: Treat yourself.
DON'T: Forget to tip.
DO: Buy everyone a round.
DON'T: Buy everyone around when you're blackout drunk.
DO: Sometimes forget to make your bed.
DON'T: Live in an episode of Hoarders.
DO: Laugh with people.
DON'T: Laugh at people.
DO: Flirt.
DON'T: Flirt with someone's significant other.
DO: Go to college.
DON'T: Piss away your parent's money.
DO: Take days off.
DON'T: Collect unemployment when you're perfectly capable of getting another job.
DO: Get paid for modeling.
DON'T: Pay people to take pictures of you and then call yourself a model.
DON'T: Shove it in everyone's faces. For example, "Hey man, want a beer?" "What the fuck man, I'm straight-edge I don't do things like that."
DO: Be vegan.
DON'T: Continuously tell meat eaters about the slow and painful death of pigs in factories.
DO: Be knowledgeable about music.
DON'T: Be that high-and-mighty music kid. This includes questioning others on the names of albums, appearing shocked when one has not heard of "this band" or "that band", trying to convince people that Pink Floyd is the best band that ever lived and getting furious when someone disagrees, making others feel ashamed because they don't know about the fucking indie bands you listen to.
DO: Rock your own style.
DON'T: Turn yourself into a walking grandma/grandpa.
DO: Be in a band and be proud of it.
DON'T: Make yourself look like a douche by never shutting up about it.
DO: Be a non-smoker.
DON'T: Warn smokers about the health risks of smoking. THEY KNOW.
DO: Stand firm in your beliefs.
DON'T: Push them on everyone.
DO: Cocaine once at a party.
DON'T: Buy eight balls from Jermaine who's a friend of a friend of a friend and then do them alone at 2 o'clock in the morning with Jermaine because he's the only human around that will hang out with you.
DO: Have a couple cocktails.
DON'T: Have a couple cocktails, eight shots of Jager, twelve beers, and three Four Lokos on a Tuesday afternoon at brunch.
DO: Get tattoos.
DON'T: Get tattoos IF: you are going to be worried that it's going to hurt, everyone else is doing it, you just turned 18, you're 17 but this guy you know will do them out of his house, you are going to bring in your own shitty drawing and be a picky mother fucker, you are worried more about how much it's going to cost than how good of a tattoo you're going to get, you don't know what you want, you don't have any tattoos but want your knuckles done so you can look badass, the shop you're at will actually tattoo your knuckles when you don't have any other tattoos, you want your boyfriend/girlfriend's name.
DO: Crazy things in bed.
DON'T: Brag about it.
DO: Smoke weed.
DON'T: Smoke yourself stupid.
DO: Ecstasy every once in a blue moon.
DON'T: Do ecstasy weekly or buy pills from sketchy dudes.
DO: Be conscious of your weight and looking good.
DON'T: Tell others exactly what you ate today and ask them if "that's bad".
DO: Be a trust fund kid.
DON'T: Act like a trust fund kid.
DO: Drink pop.
DON'T: Call it soda.
DO: Have a Facebook.
DON'T: Use it to let everyone know how miserable you are. Examples, "Another night alone, I'm so sick of not having someone to sleep next to me *tear*".
DO: Get fake tits.
DON'T: Do it because someone told you you should.
DO: Go tanning.
DON'T: Be orange.
DO: Be generous with gifts and money when you feel like you want to.
DON'T: Keep score.
DO: Follow politics and vote.
DON'T: Get mad at me if I choose not to.
DO: Work hard.
DON'T: Continuously whine about how tired you are all the time.
DO: Have a boyfriend/girlfriend.
DON'T: Talk about them 24/7 or relate every given topic back to them.
DO: Get a credit card to build credit.
DON'T: Get a credit card to "build credit" then use it to support your shopping habit or get talked into leasing a car that you will be paying off for the rest of your life.
DO: Take compliments when they are given.
DON'T: Fish for compliments.
DO: Dance.
DON'T: Freak dance.
DO: Thumbs down.
DON'T: Flip the bird.
DO: Be green.
DON'T: Scold everyone around you for not recycling.
DO: Treat yourself.
DON'T: Forget to tip.
DO: Buy everyone a round.
DON'T: Buy everyone around when you're blackout drunk.
DO: Sometimes forget to make your bed.
DON'T: Live in an episode of Hoarders.
DO: Laugh with people.
DON'T: Laugh at people.
DO: Flirt.
DON'T: Flirt with someone's significant other.
DO: Go to college.
DON'T: Piss away your parent's money.
DO: Take days off.
DON'T: Collect unemployment when you're perfectly capable of getting another job.
DO: Get paid for modeling.
DON'T: Pay people to take pictures of you and then call yourself a model.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Rules of the game that all men should follow.
Dear men,
I am writing this to you, yes you. If you want the woman of your dreams, well... I can't guarantee that. It's not really up to me. But I can tell you what is important to most girls when it comes down to it, and that's gotta mean something.
1. Find the balance between never going after what you want, and being a total fucking creep. They're both equally horrible. If you see a woman you want, don't be a pussy. Even if you think she's out of your league, there is nothing a woman loves more than a confident man.. or just a man who has balls. Approach her respectably. Most women will not turn you down if they think you are at least normal. Do not "come on" to a woman. Noooooooobody likes that. We're not your prey.
2. Know social cues. Do not touch a woman unless that caress is obviously wanted by both parties. A small brush of a hand against a woman's back can be the sexiest thing ever if done right. Ass-grabbing or getting so close I can smell your dirty alcoholic mouth is disgusting.
3. Persistence can be a really bad thing. If you've tried a couple times, it's not gonna happen. It's not because she's afraid of falling in love with you or is blinded by your hotness. She's not into it.
4. This is strictly my opinion here, but I think this is just wonderful. If you take a lady out, no matter how drunk she gets or how bad she wants it, do not kiss her. Do not fuck her. Make her wait. It'll throw her off, in a good way. I swear to you. Then when you finally do, it will be mind-blowing.
5. Make sure to clean underneath your fingernails. Girls look at that stuff.
6. Don't get really drunk on the first date. How about don't get drunk at all. Take the girl somewhere out of the ordinary.
7. First date: always pay. Just always pay. I will not budge on this one. It's manners every man should follow in my opinion. Yeah, sure, later on if you start dating it can become more equal but on the first date, PAY. There's nothing a girl loves more than thinking of a big strong man paying for her shit.
8. Don't play too hard to get. Games are just kinda dumb. If it's obvious you were both diggin it, I can guarantee she wants you to text her after the date and be like, "look... maybe I'm not 'supposed' to say this but when can I see you again?" If you wait a couple of days, she's just gonna get all anxious and think you don't like her. Just feel out the vibes.
9. As much as it's nice to hear you're "hot", tell a girl something you like about her personality. And be genuine about it. Don't be lame. Figure out that talent she has that she's proud of and compliment her on it.
10. Don't eat gross.
I am writing this to you, yes you. If you want the woman of your dreams, well... I can't guarantee that. It's not really up to me. But I can tell you what is important to most girls when it comes down to it, and that's gotta mean something.
1. Find the balance between never going after what you want, and being a total fucking creep. They're both equally horrible. If you see a woman you want, don't be a pussy. Even if you think she's out of your league, there is nothing a woman loves more than a confident man.. or just a man who has balls. Approach her respectably. Most women will not turn you down if they think you are at least normal. Do not "come on" to a woman. Noooooooobody likes that. We're not your prey.
2. Know social cues. Do not touch a woman unless that caress is obviously wanted by both parties. A small brush of a hand against a woman's back can be the sexiest thing ever if done right. Ass-grabbing or getting so close I can smell your dirty alcoholic mouth is disgusting.
3. Persistence can be a really bad thing. If you've tried a couple times, it's not gonna happen. It's not because she's afraid of falling in love with you or is blinded by your hotness. She's not into it.
4. This is strictly my opinion here, but I think this is just wonderful. If you take a lady out, no matter how drunk she gets or how bad she wants it, do not kiss her. Do not fuck her. Make her wait. It'll throw her off, in a good way. I swear to you. Then when you finally do, it will be mind-blowing.
5. Make sure to clean underneath your fingernails. Girls look at that stuff.
6. Don't get really drunk on the first date. How about don't get drunk at all. Take the girl somewhere out of the ordinary.
7. First date: always pay. Just always pay. I will not budge on this one. It's manners every man should follow in my opinion. Yeah, sure, later on if you start dating it can become more equal but on the first date, PAY. There's nothing a girl loves more than thinking of a big strong man paying for her shit.
8. Don't play too hard to get. Games are just kinda dumb. If it's obvious you were both diggin it, I can guarantee she wants you to text her after the date and be like, "look... maybe I'm not 'supposed' to say this but when can I see you again?" If you wait a couple of days, she's just gonna get all anxious and think you don't like her. Just feel out the vibes.
9. As much as it's nice to hear you're "hot", tell a girl something you like about her personality. And be genuine about it. Don't be lame. Figure out that talent she has that she's proud of and compliment her on it.
10. Don't eat gross.
The obvious.
My name is Geneva. I have blonde hair. I am sitting on a four-legged object called a chair. Did you know if you drink enough alcohol it makes you drunk? Sometimes it's light out, then sometimes it's dark out. If you have sex with a stranger and don't use a condom you might get a disease. The leaves change color in the fall time. Music is heard with your ears. Brushing your teeth makes your teeth not rot. When it's cold it's smart to put on a sweatshirt. If you eat McDonalds every day that means you like McDonalds a lot. Bicycles have two wheels. Cars have four. Grass is green. Unless it's really dry out then it turns this brownish color. Boys have penises. Some people take things too seriously.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Justifications.
Justifications- Excuses people make for themselves when they know they're fucking up but don't want to come to terms.
Just for the record, this is not a drug awareness post. This is shit I say or probably have said regularly so don't take it like I'm being self righteous. Haha.
"You only live once!"
"I'm young. This is what young people do."
"Don't knock it till you try it."
"Live fast, die young."
"I'm in my experimental years."
"They're just jealous."
"Wanna do a bump?"
"It's punk rock and/or metal."
"They're just close-minded."
"I don't care what other people think."
"I can stop any time I want to."
"I'm totally not an addict, alcoholism doesn't even run in my family."
"It really helped us connect on another level."
"It's not heroin, it's oxycontin."
"It's all about moderation."
"No, trust me man, the guy said it was pure."
"I worked there for over 5 years. There's no way they would fire me."
"I just do it on the weekends."
"What's so wrong with having fun."
"Dude, it just mellows you out."
"It helps me focus. I actually think I'm the person I'm SUPPOSED to be when I'm on it."
"Just this once."
"I seriously haven't done it in 7 months."
"It's ok if like, you're not doing it ALLLLL the time."
"It doesn't affect my life."
"They just don't really understand."
"Dude, my mom used to party like this. We smoked weed together the other day."
"Gotta start somewhere, right?"
"You'll totally view the world differently after."
"At least he was hot."
"I don't smoke it, I just snort it. It's way different."
"I have a SPLITTING headache and I just don't know why."
"But that's not why I'm depressed."
"She does it ALL the time, I seriously only do it once in awhile."
"I don't even like it that much."
"I just got dumped."
"It's not like I would ever BUY it. I'll do it if it's offered to me though."
"You just have to be able to handle yourself. Then you're fine."
"As long as it's pure MDMA and not ecstasy it's safe and fun."
"I just need to smoke some weed and I'll be fine."
"They say it's fucking up my life but you know they used to do the same shit."
"I don't have a problem."
"AA is for douchebags."
"I'm not lazy I just genuinely don't enjoy it. If I enjoyed it I would be like the best worker ever."
"No, I'm just tired."
"I don't have money because I work a minimum wage job and I have to pay rent."
"Nothing this awesome can be that bad for you."
Just for the record, this is not a drug awareness post. This is shit I say or probably have said regularly so don't take it like I'm being self righteous. Haha.
"You only live once!"
"I'm young. This is what young people do."
"Don't knock it till you try it."
"Live fast, die young."
"I'm in my experimental years."
"They're just jealous."
"Wanna do a bump?"
"It's punk rock and/or metal."
"They're just close-minded."
"I don't care what other people think."
"I can stop any time I want to."
"I'm totally not an addict, alcoholism doesn't even run in my family."
"It really helped us connect on another level."
"It's not heroin, it's oxycontin."
"It's all about moderation."
"No, trust me man, the guy said it was pure."
"I worked there for over 5 years. There's no way they would fire me."
"I just do it on the weekends."
"What's so wrong with having fun."
"Dude, it just mellows you out."
"It helps me focus. I actually think I'm the person I'm SUPPOSED to be when I'm on it."
"Just this once."
"I seriously haven't done it in 7 months."
"It's ok if like, you're not doing it ALLLLL the time."
"It doesn't affect my life."
"They just don't really understand."
"Dude, my mom used to party like this. We smoked weed together the other day."
"Gotta start somewhere, right?"
"You'll totally view the world differently after."
"At least he was hot."
"I don't smoke it, I just snort it. It's way different."
"I have a SPLITTING headache and I just don't know why."
"But that's not why I'm depressed."
"She does it ALL the time, I seriously only do it once in awhile."
"I don't even like it that much."
"I just got dumped."
"It's not like I would ever BUY it. I'll do it if it's offered to me though."
"You just have to be able to handle yourself. Then you're fine."
"As long as it's pure MDMA and not ecstasy it's safe and fun."
"I just need to smoke some weed and I'll be fine."
"They say it's fucking up my life but you know they used to do the same shit."
"I don't have a problem."
"AA is for douchebags."
"I'm not lazy I just genuinely don't enjoy it. If I enjoyed it I would be like the best worker ever."
"No, I'm just tired."
"I don't have money because I work a minimum wage job and I have to pay rent."
"Nothing this awesome can be that bad for you."
Best ways to insure you continue missing your ex forever.
1. Get completely and fully belligerent as often as possible. This way, you will feel really overjoyed about nothing for two-three hours and then all of a sudden, in the middle of a bar with no hot guys, you will feel a feeling of complete and utter loneliness. When this loneliness attacks, you will do almost ANYTHING to make it go away. Loneliness suppression tips: lines of cocaine in the bathroom, texting and/or calling your ex or anybody for that matter who has ever shown you any kind of attention whatsoever, or, my next point.....
2. Have sex with a guy you hardly know and doesn't compare in any way, shape or form to your ex. This way, it will be a great reminder how awesome your sex life USED to be, and how guilty and worthless you feel now.
3. Make sure you have Facebook accessible on your phone at all times. Facebook is your home page with your ex's username and password locked. This way, you will have easy access to everything he/she is doing and everyone he/she is doing at all times. You will constantly feel uneasy and sad, but at least you will have full control over their Facebook page.
4. Re-read the love letters he/she wrote you in the beginning of your relationship as to never forget the fact that you once had a perfect romance. If no love letters were written, I'm positive there are other ways to torture yourself. Sometimes it helps to just sit there in silence, shut your eyes, and re-imagine all the things you really loved about the person. This will lead to re-living wonderful memories and fond feelings toward the ex. Once this happens, you will immediately experience sorrow.
5. Try to put yourself in places/situations you think your ex might be. Continuously ask if your ex is going to be there, and if the answer is yes, ALWAYS show up.
6. You can also drive by your ex's place of employment. This will give you no satisfaction, because you won't see them, you will just see the building they work in and, if you're lucky, their car. But if you do it enough times, hopefully one of these days you'll see them on their lunch break. But they won't see you, because you'll be driving by really fast.
7. Listen to songs that you both cherished as a couple. Loud. In the car. Alone. So as to cry and yearn for them in your bones.
8. Write a long list of all the things you love about your ex. Then slip it in their mailbox. They are sure to want you back now.
9. Make sure you remind people over and over the "cute" story of how you guys met, and how you and his/her mom are still close.
10. Keep some of their clothes and wear them to bed. Never wash them, so as to keep their scent with you forever.
11. Accidentally run into their close friends regularly. Pry them about details of your ex's current life, including whether or not your ex is "home very much". Or, if they've been "hanging out with anybody new". Always make an effort to become closest with your ex's friends at this time.
12. Make sure to masturbate at least two times daily. This will remind you that you no longer have someone doing the job for you.
13. Always leave something important to you at your ex's house. That way, not all ties are cut.
14. Be alone as much as humanly possible. Do not hang out with your friends or family ever. Give yourself much time to sit in silence and think. Make sure the room is dark.
15. Watch "The Notebook".
16. Talk a lot of shit about your ex's new girlfriend/boyfriend. This will make you look really cool.
17. Write a lot of sad quotes/lyrics on Facebook. Your ex is totally gonna read them, and this will make them want you desperately.
18. Friend request your ex's new girlfriend/boyfriend. Make sure to "like" a lot of their status'. This will make you appear to be "happy" for them as to make them think you are so fucking mature.
19. Consistently pursue your ex for the "closure you never got". Be it coffee, lunch, or maybe just a accidental sexual rendez-vous. I mean, that would definitely give you closure. Just seeing them one more time.
20. Text them things like, "oh hey.. what's the name of that one band?" or, "do you have that one DVD I left at your place?" These are things you actually don't give two fucks about, they just initiate conversation... hopefully.
21. Make a fake Facebook of a girl, then see if your ex will take the bait. If he doesn't, you know there's still a chance.
22. Constantly tell yourself there could have been something you could have done to prevent the break-up.
23. Start doing LOTS of drugs. Drugs help to alleviate some of the loneliness temporarily, but the comedown propels you into a world of depression- linked with undeniable loneliness and anxiety. You will be ridden with the memory of the comfort you had when you were laying in your ex's arms. This is a rude awakening and reminder of your current state of simply just "existing". Not to mention nobody loves you.
24. Make sure that while you're doing these drugs, you are with a group of losers.
25. Also, make sure these drugs keep you up for days on end. Therefore, you will have more time to think about said ex. No need to waste thoughts that could be used for lonely purposes on sleeping.
26. Become fully engulfed in a really bad relationship. This way, it will remind you every day of how much you miss your ex.
27. Or, if you're not a "relationship" person anymore, just get a not-so-attractive fuck buddy. This ALWAYS guarantees that you will stay drunk because you will never, EVER have to face the reality of how shitty they are. And we all know, staying drunk always leads to many thoughts of the ex.
28. Dine alone.
29. The album of you and your ex on Facebook? Don't take it down. Just make it only viewable by YOU.
30. And just remember, every thought and word you speak can ALWAYS be related back to your ex. Make it work.
2. Have sex with a guy you hardly know and doesn't compare in any way, shape or form to your ex. This way, it will be a great reminder how awesome your sex life USED to be, and how guilty and worthless you feel now.
3. Make sure you have Facebook accessible on your phone at all times. Facebook is your home page with your ex's username and password locked. This way, you will have easy access to everything he/she is doing and everyone he/she is doing at all times. You will constantly feel uneasy and sad, but at least you will have full control over their Facebook page.
4. Re-read the love letters he/she wrote you in the beginning of your relationship as to never forget the fact that you once had a perfect romance. If no love letters were written, I'm positive there are other ways to torture yourself. Sometimes it helps to just sit there in silence, shut your eyes, and re-imagine all the things you really loved about the person. This will lead to re-living wonderful memories and fond feelings toward the ex. Once this happens, you will immediately experience sorrow.
5. Try to put yourself in places/situations you think your ex might be. Continuously ask if your ex is going to be there, and if the answer is yes, ALWAYS show up.
6. You can also drive by your ex's place of employment. This will give you no satisfaction, because you won't see them, you will just see the building they work in and, if you're lucky, their car. But if you do it enough times, hopefully one of these days you'll see them on their lunch break. But they won't see you, because you'll be driving by really fast.
7. Listen to songs that you both cherished as a couple. Loud. In the car. Alone. So as to cry and yearn for them in your bones.
8. Write a long list of all the things you love about your ex. Then slip it in their mailbox. They are sure to want you back now.
9. Make sure you remind people over and over the "cute" story of how you guys met, and how you and his/her mom are still close.
10. Keep some of their clothes and wear them to bed. Never wash them, so as to keep their scent with you forever.
11. Accidentally run into their close friends regularly. Pry them about details of your ex's current life, including whether or not your ex is "home very much". Or, if they've been "hanging out with anybody new". Always make an effort to become closest with your ex's friends at this time.
12. Make sure to masturbate at least two times daily. This will remind you that you no longer have someone doing the job for you.
13. Always leave something important to you at your ex's house. That way, not all ties are cut.
14. Be alone as much as humanly possible. Do not hang out with your friends or family ever. Give yourself much time to sit in silence and think. Make sure the room is dark.
15. Watch "The Notebook".
16. Talk a lot of shit about your ex's new girlfriend/boyfriend. This will make you look really cool.
17. Write a lot of sad quotes/lyrics on Facebook. Your ex is totally gonna read them, and this will make them want you desperately.
18. Friend request your ex's new girlfriend/boyfriend. Make sure to "like" a lot of their status'. This will make you appear to be "happy" for them as to make them think you are so fucking mature.
19. Consistently pursue your ex for the "closure you never got". Be it coffee, lunch, or maybe just a accidental sexual rendez-vous. I mean, that would definitely give you closure. Just seeing them one more time.
20. Text them things like, "oh hey.. what's the name of that one band?" or, "do you have that one DVD I left at your place?" These are things you actually don't give two fucks about, they just initiate conversation... hopefully.
21. Make a fake Facebook of a girl, then see if your ex will take the bait. If he doesn't, you know there's still a chance.
22. Constantly tell yourself there could have been something you could have done to prevent the break-up.
23. Start doing LOTS of drugs. Drugs help to alleviate some of the loneliness temporarily, but the comedown propels you into a world of depression- linked with undeniable loneliness and anxiety. You will be ridden with the memory of the comfort you had when you were laying in your ex's arms. This is a rude awakening and reminder of your current state of simply just "existing". Not to mention nobody loves you.
24. Make sure that while you're doing these drugs, you are with a group of losers.
25. Also, make sure these drugs keep you up for days on end. Therefore, you will have more time to think about said ex. No need to waste thoughts that could be used for lonely purposes on sleeping.
26. Become fully engulfed in a really bad relationship. This way, it will remind you every day of how much you miss your ex.
27. Or, if you're not a "relationship" person anymore, just get a not-so-attractive fuck buddy. This ALWAYS guarantees that you will stay drunk because you will never, EVER have to face the reality of how shitty they are. And we all know, staying drunk always leads to many thoughts of the ex.
28. Dine alone.
29. The album of you and your ex on Facebook? Don't take it down. Just make it only viewable by YOU.
30. And just remember, every thought and word you speak can ALWAYS be related back to your ex. Make it work.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Octobes.
It's all stormy today. Stormy fall nights give me that bittersweet nostalgic feeling. Only fall really does this to me and I don't know why. But I'd have to say I like it.
Fall makes me want to drive around pointlessly at strange hours of the night. Watch the leaves circling around in the wind. Maybe drive through ghetto neighborhoods and feel invincible cuz I'm in my nice warm LOCKED car.
Got to talkin today, and it's weird. When you think back to times in your life and you were like, "those were the good old days". Sometimes I think back to periods of time and a fondness comes over me, this undeniable longing to be there again. Then I will remember that at that time I actually wasn't happy at all. But there's this feeling of wanting to go back. And it makes me think, I should really be happy today and every day. Because in a certain matter of time I am going to look back on myself RIGHT NOW and miss it.
Sometimes I worry that I am going to be alone forever. Not in a "feel bad for me" kind of way. It's just a legitimate worry. Like, what if I meet a lot of people but no one ever really works out for me? I guess it's not something I have control over, and I should probably just leave it up to God. But it's somethin you wonder kinda. Cuz don't you think it would be sad? To never really find that person in your life? I wanna be one of those old people holding hands with my signifant other old person and take a really long time crossing the street.
Anywayyy, guess that's all. Fall is fun and so is that weird nostalgia feeling.
Oh also, I really don't like people that refer to fall as "autumn". It sounds old personish or like it would be the name of some white trash chick so just don't do it.
Fall makes me want to drive around pointlessly at strange hours of the night. Watch the leaves circling around in the wind. Maybe drive through ghetto neighborhoods and feel invincible cuz I'm in my nice warm LOCKED car.
Got to talkin today, and it's weird. When you think back to times in your life and you were like, "those were the good old days". Sometimes I think back to periods of time and a fondness comes over me, this undeniable longing to be there again. Then I will remember that at that time I actually wasn't happy at all. But there's this feeling of wanting to go back. And it makes me think, I should really be happy today and every day. Because in a certain matter of time I am going to look back on myself RIGHT NOW and miss it.
Sometimes I worry that I am going to be alone forever. Not in a "feel bad for me" kind of way. It's just a legitimate worry. Like, what if I meet a lot of people but no one ever really works out for me? I guess it's not something I have control over, and I should probably just leave it up to God. But it's somethin you wonder kinda. Cuz don't you think it would be sad? To never really find that person in your life? I wanna be one of those old people holding hands with my signifant other old person and take a really long time crossing the street.
Anywayyy, guess that's all. Fall is fun and so is that weird nostalgia feeling.
Oh also, I really don't like people that refer to fall as "autumn". It sounds old personish or like it would be the name of some white trash chick so just don't do it.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Walls
when you laugh i laugh
i wait until you break the silence
i part my lips with hesitance
you spill your words with ease
i am but a shadow
cast from your bedpost
i follow you around
always keep my distance
well i've been hiding out with you
i wish that you would notice
you're my background noise
i see your face in the walls
i wait until you break the silence
i part my lips with hesitance
you spill your words with ease
i am but a shadow
cast from your bedpost
i follow you around
always keep my distance
well i've been hiding out with you
i wish that you would notice
you're my background noise
i see your face in the walls
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Rules of the game that I usually don't follow but should.
A man is simple. He thinks in black and white and with his dick. He either a.) likes you, or b.) doesn't. If he likes you, he WILL make it work. If he doesn't, get over it.
Girls these days are just DUMB. You know what makes a man want you? Not making it obvious that you drive by his house on the regular.
There isn't much to it honestly, yet girls twist and transform every little spec of information they can get their paws on. Stop talking about it. Stop over-analyzing. It will get you nowhere because in most instances, what the man said is EXACTLY what he meant. There's really no use to try and "reach deeper". Guys don't think that hard about stuff.
If a dude breaks up with you, move the fuck on. I know this because I've been there, and I have made all the mistakes. You go through the drunken slut phase, the stalking phase, the "I'm actually totally sober now and doing sooo well for myself that I have to let everybody know about it so it will get back to my ex and he'll want me back" phase. The worst thing you can do is make it really fucking obvious how miserable you are. My best advice: Get really skinny, get your hair and nails done, and walk around looking hot everywhere you go. Be respectable. Don't make it painfully obvious to all of Facebook that you miss the shit out of your ex boyfriend. And never, I mean NEVER beg. Begging is lame. If you feel the need to literally BEG for what you want, that can't be good for you.
For girls who are trying to get a dude, here is my advice. If you've let him know you're into it and he has not made the steps to follow- HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT. Stop trying. Be cool, chill out and find someone else. Don't be desperate, it is the most unflattering shade on a woman.
I do think it's good for a lady to be bold though. If you see a dude that you want, hit on him. Make the first move. Whatever. Just be able to get the point if it doesn't go the way you want it to.
Another tip: Don't be that jealous girl. Jealousy is gross. It makes you look really unsexy and retarded.
Also: Don't be that drunk girl.
If a guy really digs you, he will make sure to always text you back. He won't leave you hanging, he won't leave you feeling confused, he'll make it perfectly clear that you are his number one lady. He will want to be with you all the time. He won't talk to other bitches, hang out with other bitches, or cheat on you with other bitches. If a guy is NOT doing this, you should NOT be wasting your time. Simple as that.
I just see sooo many girls getting sooo butthurt over guys, and it's really not worth it. That is clearly just not the man for you. There are others. Don't shit your pants over it. Be classy and shut up.
Girls these days are just DUMB. You know what makes a man want you? Not making it obvious that you drive by his house on the regular.
There isn't much to it honestly, yet girls twist and transform every little spec of information they can get their paws on. Stop talking about it. Stop over-analyzing. It will get you nowhere because in most instances, what the man said is EXACTLY what he meant. There's really no use to try and "reach deeper". Guys don't think that hard about stuff.
If a dude breaks up with you, move the fuck on. I know this because I've been there, and I have made all the mistakes. You go through the drunken slut phase, the stalking phase, the "I'm actually totally sober now and doing sooo well for myself that I have to let everybody know about it so it will get back to my ex and he'll want me back" phase. The worst thing you can do is make it really fucking obvious how miserable you are. My best advice: Get really skinny, get your hair and nails done, and walk around looking hot everywhere you go. Be respectable. Don't make it painfully obvious to all of Facebook that you miss the shit out of your ex boyfriend. And never, I mean NEVER beg. Begging is lame. If you feel the need to literally BEG for what you want, that can't be good for you.
For girls who are trying to get a dude, here is my advice. If you've let him know you're into it and he has not made the steps to follow- HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT. Stop trying. Be cool, chill out and find someone else. Don't be desperate, it is the most unflattering shade on a woman.
I do think it's good for a lady to be bold though. If you see a dude that you want, hit on him. Make the first move. Whatever. Just be able to get the point if it doesn't go the way you want it to.
Another tip: Don't be that jealous girl. Jealousy is gross. It makes you look really unsexy and retarded.
Also: Don't be that drunk girl.
If a guy really digs you, he will make sure to always text you back. He won't leave you hanging, he won't leave you feeling confused, he'll make it perfectly clear that you are his number one lady. He will want to be with you all the time. He won't talk to other bitches, hang out with other bitches, or cheat on you with other bitches. If a guy is NOT doing this, you should NOT be wasting your time. Simple as that.
I just see sooo many girls getting sooo butthurt over guys, and it's really not worth it. That is clearly just not the man for you. There are others. Don't shit your pants over it. Be classy and shut up.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Dear Money, Quit Fucking Around With My Feelings.
Dear Money,
Seems like it's been years since we've hung out comfortably. Now you're always on the run. To be quite frank, I feel like you're using me. Every time I think we're finally on good terms you go and fuck it all up within a matter of minutes! Why is it so easy for you to just peace out whenever you please?
Come to think of it, you've never really been there for me. And when you are there for me you just get me super drunk and you're gone by the morning.
Money, I'm not trying to sound bitter but.... I'm in love with you and I feel like you're spending your time with other people, people who don't deserve you. Come back to me. Let's spend some good, quality time together. Is there ever a chance we can make this relationship work, or are you just going to come and go as you please? If I'm going to have you, I want to have ALL of you. Not just a little.
P.S. Stop trying to get me fat, it's not funny.
Sincerely,
Geneva
Seems like it's been years since we've hung out comfortably. Now you're always on the run. To be quite frank, I feel like you're using me. Every time I think we're finally on good terms you go and fuck it all up within a matter of minutes! Why is it so easy for you to just peace out whenever you please?
Come to think of it, you've never really been there for me. And when you are there for me you just get me super drunk and you're gone by the morning.
Money, I'm not trying to sound bitter but.... I'm in love with you and I feel like you're spending your time with other people, people who don't deserve you. Come back to me. Let's spend some good, quality time together. Is there ever a chance we can make this relationship work, or are you just going to come and go as you please? If I'm going to have you, I want to have ALL of you. Not just a little.
P.S. Stop trying to get me fat, it's not funny.
Sincerely,
Geneva
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Sometimes, all the time.
i want to lay
in a pool of falling ash
like butterflies
and never know what hit me
when they come flying
at my sunken eyes
lay completely still
a thousand colors fade to
pitch black dots
and here i lay in silk
satin cheeks and
pitch black thoughts
Friday, April 9, 2010
You're comin' up roses everywhere you go.
Why is it that it is notorious among creative people to get addicted to heroin and kill themselves?
Some of the most brilliant musicians, artists, poets, and artistically great minds of our century were all-in-all stumbling drunks, dope fiends and depressed ass hermit mother fuckers.
While it makes absolutely no sense, it also makes complete sense. I can understand it because I was born with a creative brain.
Creative people are usually right-brained. They tend to think and process things differently than other people. While left-brained people tend to think more logically and analytically, right-brained people tend to be more imaginative, absent-minded. They tend to act on emotion and impulse. Not to say it's a black and white situation. Many people use both sides of their brain intertwined, but it is common when the right part of the brain is more dominant, to result in certain tendencies.
I may sound a little biased, but knowing how my own brain works I can completely understand why the majority of artistic geniuses of our time were all fucked up. It's a simple cycle that all boils down to one undeniable factor: inspiration.
Being inspired is a drug all on it's own. Nothing compares to it. When I am on a full-blown inspirational kick I could probably fucking fly. The problem is, inspiration can be futile. It comes when it damn well pleases, and for a lot of people it doesn't come nearly enough.
Result? Drug use. I'm not implying that I condone it, I'm simply being realistic. There is nothing more powerful than drugs to stimulate inspiration. Drugs can open up once unused parts of the brain. Thoughts and words and artistic flow we didn't even know we were capable of can all-of-a-sudden just "appear".
With the way my brain works, I am constantly looking for stimulation. In anything. I am somewhat level-headed, so it's not likely that I will ever hop on the heroin train. But I can see why people do. I doubt myself constantly. I often lack motivation and confidence, resulting in nothing getting done. And take it from me, when a creative person doesn't use their creativity they feel, in a sense, doomed. So what's the solution? Well, a couple drinks would sure help. Add money, fame, and infinite glorification into the mix and what's stopping you from self-medicating into an inspirational heavenly bliss?
Once this inspirational heavenly bliss is introduced, it becomes the key to success. The only way. And we all know what drugs lead to- nothing. After enough time, you become depressed trying to constantly reach that level of inspirational heavenly bliss. You enter relationships that end up failing, you feel like shit, and your fame either fades, or you end it all at the peak of your success. You stab yourself in the heart or get shot by your girlfriend.
With that said, it is clearly understandable how such amazing people fell to the wayside. Yet it is undeniably a cowardly and unfair use of talent. Talent is talent, with or without the use of substances. It can be a frustrating journey when you feel uninspired. It can feel hopeless. But it seems to me that you were given your brain for a reason, and it is supposed to work the way it does. I hate my brain sometimes. Sometimes I just wish I had more. Something else to say, something better. But the passion is still in me. It's in all of us. We just need to find other ways to channel it. I never want to end up literally drinking myself to death because I couldn't find any other way to be inspired. It seems like a cop-out.
I hope to God for myself, and the majority of other artistic people out there, that we can use our talents in good ways, ways that will benefit us without leaving us in a suicidal drug-induced fog at the end of our lives. I think it's completely possible. Though I may doubt myself at times, I know I am capable of making it in this world.
Need inspiration? Don't do drugs. Just get dumped. I wrote a lot of good songs.
:)
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Things I will never understand.
- The game of football. Do not explain it to me, I'm not listening.
- Required P.E. classes. So let me get this straight, you're gonna feed us liquid cheese and deep-fried taquitos for lunch and then require us to run? You're telling me that my G.P.A. is partially based on whether or not I will participate in standing around ducking from rubber balls?
- Drama queens. If you would shut up, a lot more people would like you.
- History class. I will forget everything.
- Math class that exceeds 5th grade. No one gives a fuck.
- Non-alcoholic beer. You never drank it for the taste.
- Mike's Hard Lemonade. I like to have diarrhea and not get drunk too.
- Hummers. "I have a small penis".
- Money. We have enough trees to just print more, right? Let's do that.
- Toupees. A painfully obvious reminder of how sad your life has become.
- Child birth. How does this appeal to people.
- "Caffeine addiction". You made it up.
- The stringy shit on bananas and the white stuff on oranges. Also things with seeds. It is almost too much effort to eat you, seeing as how I have to de-grossify you before ingesting. Nanners are worth it. Oranges, not so much.
- The use of walnuts in cooking. Here's a good way to sabotage a good thing.
- Miley Cyrus. I just can't even find one good thing about you.
- Musicals. Let's get to the dialogue already, shall we.
Still life existence.
It's really weird to look at old pictures. Entire segments of a life can be summed up in one single photograph.
To other people it's just a still shot. A picture of you smiling. A picture of you in an unknown kitchen. A picture of a group of fifteen-year-old faces with beers in their hands. A picture of a friend who slipped from your grasp. A picture of a girl and a boy kissing.
To you, it's more than that. It's documentation of another time in your life, documentation of emotions that nobody could know but you. Beneath the still shot, the picture of you smiling, there are feelings. Memories. And sometimes, those fade too. With the way our brains work and the fact that we can only retain so much, it's odd to think that some things will just be forgotten. There is a beauty in that, in a sense.
Pictures reveal the passing of time. They are proof that seasons change, people change, feelings change. It's strange to look at a picture and feel nothing at all. A picture that used to mean so much to you, a two-second flash that symbolized a friendship or love that was so fresh at the time, now means nothing. It's strange when this picture becomes just another still shot of smiling faces. It's strange when this doesn't make you sad.
Photographs are vital. They are consumed with emotion. Whether good or bad, pictures are proof of our existence. Pictures are brief and fleeting shots of moments in our lives we felt it necessary to embrace and remember.
When I look back on old pictures, I am so thankful I took them. Nothing else in this world can sum up a second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year, or decade better. Nothing else can sum up a night you will never forget, a drunken stooper, an undeniably awkward stage, a loneliness, a first love, a second love, a precursor to a series of bad decisions, a glimpse into the heart of a person.
Nothing sums up the effects of the universe better than a picture.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Commonly made mistakes.
Common mistakes that have been made by me and other people:
- Plucking the SHIT out of your eyebrows. This is a tragic disaster that is made when one comes into contact with a pair of tweezers while on meth or while feeling really, really bad about themselves. It results in either no eyebrows, or a thin strand of stray hairs on one's forehead.
- Plucking the SHIT out of your eyebrows, then coming into contact with a brown eye pencil. When one plucks the shit out of their eyebrows, they realize a detrimental mistake has been made, resulting in two drawn-on lines of brown or black to replace what they once had.
- Muffin top. Sometimes folks are unaware of the fact that their midsection does not look like :
This results in this unaware person wearing low-cut jeans and belly shirts.
This results in this unaware person wearing low-cut jeans and belly shirts. - Orange face, white neck. I have made this mistake many times in my high school career. Bronzer can be a curse.
- Orange person. This mistake occurs when one works at a tanning salon and gets to tan for free every day. Just because you can, does not mean you should. This also occurs when one goes spray tanning, when one works at a gym, or when one lives on the Jersey Shore. Lastly, it occurs when one is in high school and buys a tanning membership.
- Mom jeans. Mom jeans consist of straight-leg jeans that rise above the bellybutton and result in a triangle shape around the vagine, and a slight wedgie in the rear. Mom jeans can be spotted at any park, zoo, school, playground, J.C. Penny, or minivan near you.
- Spider lashes. Spider lashes are very familiar to me, as I had them for probably ten years straight. Spider lashes are created when one buys "extra black" mascara and proceeds to coat layer upon layer over the lashes, until they are no longer lashes but just clumps of black extending from the eyelid.
- Cake face. Cake face occurs when one does not realize that they do not need seventy-two layers of foundation on their face, but simply just one.
- Bleach head. Bleach head occurs when one wants to dye their hair blonde and tries to do it themselves. You may have also seen this in 1998, on the heads of sixth-grade boys across the country. This was around the time Eminem became popular.
- The two-bra. This occurs when a fifteen-year-old girl has no boobs, so she purchases padded bras and wears to of them at the same time. This mistake can be easily spotted when you see a girl with an uncanny amount of bra straps on each shoulder.
- Crocs. Do I need to say more?
- The running shoe guy. This occurs when you meet a well-dressed, attractive dude, who you automatically would not consider because he is wearing a pair of old running shoes.
- Attack of the acrylic. This mistake occurs when one is ordering from Taco Bell and happens to notice that the female cashier has ten inch acrylic nails that she is using to poke buttons on the register. It can be very frightening and can lead to very strange thoughts.
- Face eater. Face eaters are folks whose brains do not connect with the nerves in their tongue, resulting in their prey being mauled with saliva.
- Male in pink shirt. This occurs when one is a chad.
- Stuck in the eighties. This unbelievable phenomena occurs when one over the age of forty does not realize it is 2010.
- The bun. The bun is often seen on teenage cheerleaders or girls in Juicy suits. It results in one's hair being piled atop the head and then pulled tight into a bun-like form.
- Inside-out sweatshirt. This occurs when one does not wash their clothes.
- Panty line. Panty line is formed when a female has not come to the understanding that full-butt underwear are a.) not comfortable, b.) not sexy, and c.) never to be worn underneath a tight skirt.
- Entering a tattoo shop on your eighteenth birthday. Nothing good has, or ever will come of this.
- Drunk girl/drunk guy. This occurs when one member of a group has not eaten that day. It results in a fight, everyone hating you, diarrhea of the mouth, face eating, hospital visits, random sex, STD's, DUI's, and karaoke.
- Shirts with slogans. Can often be found on people who think they're cool or witty.
- Too much caffeine. Results: shaking of the hands, headaches, clenching of the jaw, spilling and/or dropping things, shitting your pants.
- Too much reefer. Results: consuming 4,000 calories, watching Cartoon Network, kind of feeling like one is going to die, loss of movement in one's extremities, the pizza guy getting a really good tip, uncontrollable laughter at facial expressions, awesome sex.
- Turtlenecks. These devices were created for folks who do not, by any means, want to convey an ounce of sex appeal. Ever.
- The sag. The sag occurs when a male puts on pants, but not really.
- Thong attack. This can be commonly found among females who occupy their time in frat houses, or can randomly be found when looking over at a female sitting at another table at the Old Country Buffet. It occurs when a female wears jeans down to their pubes, and then pulls their thong up their asscrack in hopes that a male will come along and mate with them.
- One night stands. One night stands occur when two people are drunk and horny, or when a female is drunk and horny and a male is sober and horny. They can be found on your couch Friday and Saturday nights.
- Lip liner resembling that of Eminem's ex-wife Kim. This occurs when one buys black lip liner and lines their lips with it. The outcome resembles that of Eminem's ex-wife Kim, which, to my understanding, should not be a look anyone is going for.
- Drunk text. This mistake is made when one gets obliterated and finds it necessary to make it known to as many people as possible.
- C.O.D. "C.O.D." or, "cologne over dirt" occurs when a male does not shower, but owns a bottle of cologne. It results in immediate evacuation of a room and chronic migraines to those the male comes in contact with.
- Growout. Growout occurs when bleach heads get lazy.
- Pissing off your cat. Results: your cat pissing on your stuff.
- Unprotected sex. This is an all-too-common mistake made by folks who like to play Russian Roulette with their genitals. Results can range anywhere from, "thank god" to "oh fuck".
- Listening to Rise Against. Results: contemplating ending your life.
- Listening to Miley Cyrus. Results: see above.
- Making a Facebook account. Upon completion, one will not be able to listen to a song without thinking, "I should post that as my facebook status".
- "Hella". You'll never stop saying it.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I miss the good old days when I wasn't born but it seemed like a nice time.
I love the world. I really do. There is so much beauty in it and I am a very lucky girl to be born in America. I understand this. But... that doesn't mean I can't talk a little shit sometimes. Because, well, I can. So I will.
The people this day-and-age are downright STUPID. Not to say that people have not been stupid since the beginning of time, because they have. I mean shit. Eve ate some forbidden apple or some shit and ruined it for all of us. But it seems these days, trash has reached it's ultimate height.
Let's take music, for instance. That is, if we can call it that. I just typed in "top musical artists of 2009" on Google. My first three results came up as: Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber (who the fuck are YOU?), and Lil' Wayne. So basically, the majority of our population idolizes a transvestite, a two-year-old, and a crackhead.
And don't even get me STARTED on Miley Cyrus. She embodies everything I hate about anything.
What has happened to REAL music? REAL people with REAL voices who play REAL instruments? What has happened to fame being based upon the fact that you are truly a great musician? These days, fame is just based on how attractive you are, how well you can shake your ass, and how well you can electronically distort your voice. I turn on the radio and I am disgusted. I can't even listen to it. We don't even have music videos anymore for christ's sake. All MTV consists of now are shows about chads dating moms and fat girls on quests to become cheerleaders. It's all a bunch of garbage. Remember when MTV used to play music videos almost all day? Nowadays they only play them at five o'clock in the morning. Trust me, it is not pleasant to be woken up hearing Ke$ha's synthesized piece of shit excuse for a one-hit-wonder. "I'm talkin pedicure on our toes toes, tryin on all our clothes clothes, boys blowin' up our phones phones". Lyrical genius right there.
I'm not a self-righteous music person, either. I like what I like and I don't put down other people's tastes in music.... there is still a lot of good music out there and I appreciate anyone who is actually talented. I don't hate....that is, UNLESS your taste in music would be found on a NOW867457987 C.D. Well, then you just need to be schooled. And speaking of NOW C.D.'s... when the fuck are they going to stop making those?
And it's not just music. It's our culture. It's the way we act these days. Girls toss themselves around like pieces of meat, and dudes walk around like rabid dogs in heat. That rhymed, probably better than anything Ke$ha has ever come up with in her life. (But then again, how would she know? The record companies write her shitty shit anyway). We have kind of become dogs in heat, all of us. Just wandering around looking for people to mate with.
Our country is full of fat slobs with no manners. I know I sound cynical, and I am. Because it's true. There's a McDonalds on every corner. There's a Starbucks on every corner. We want our shit and we want it NOW. We want to fill our fat bellies as fast as humanly possible or else we are going to fucking die. We don't got all day, you know. That Wii is waiting for us at home and it needs to be nurtured A.S.A.P.
Technology is a wonderful thing, and I am amazed by it. It has done a lot of good, and bad. I am totally addicted to Facebook and I know it. Now that I have a laptop there is really never a time when I am not on it. And don't even try to judge, because you know you're updating your status from your iphone as we speak. I see Facebook arise in everyday conversations much more than I am comfortable with. And I am usually a part of these conversations, so that sucks.
Technology has made things extremely easy for us, and it's nice. Remember when people only had house phones? Calling a guy you liked was always super nerve-racking, especially since their mom would always pick up the phone. Now it's straight TEXTING. I don't mind it, I hate talking on the phone. It's really awkward. But there is a point when it becomes a little TOO MUCH.
Oprah had a show the other day solely focused on "texting while driving" and all the families it has destroyed because of the people killed in car accidents due to texting. I mean, really??? Get off your phones people. I mean, there are really enough deaths due to TEXTING, that OPRAH herself is practically basing her life around destroying it. There's a time and a place, that's all I'm sayin'.
And let me just put this out there.... ppL whO tYp liEk diSSS r idiOTz.
Let's just all chill a little bit. Maybe try to have some real human interaction once in awhile. Listen to music that doesn't suck. Treat each other with respect. Ya know?
With that said, let's all get back on Facebook now.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Thelma and Louise.
It was poofed hair that brought us together. Poofed hair and copious amounts of booze.
I knew you a couple years prior. We worked together at the same coffee shop where I currently sit, still, after three and a half years. Some things don't change.
I was about seventeen, you were about twenty. I was introverted, and captivated by your extravagance. You were mouthy. You were a badass. You ranted about rock stars and boys and tattoos. You sang country songs out loud.
I can recall you once saying you wanted to get to pistols tattooed on either side of your hips. I'm really glad you didn't do that.
Shortly thereafter you moved away to Montana to be with a boy. I hardly knew you at the time, so it didn't really matter. For the next couple of years we lived our seperate lives. I met a boy too. My life progressed in good ways and bad. Looking back I can see how it started to parallel yours, even though we were on opposite ends of the geographical spectrum.
We both fell quickly and carelessly into what we thought was love. Yyyyeah. We slowly and surely began to lose ourselves in our relationships. I dated a boy who gave me lots of tattoos and drank with me on weekdays. He was cool. He was confusing. He let me down. You dated a boy in a band. He introduced you to a brand new life. He was cool. He was confusing. He let you down.
One day I heard that you were back in Seattle. Out of the blue you texted me asking if I was at work and had my makeup with me. I replied, "duh". I'm pretty sure your exact words were, "I knew that bitch would have her makeup!"
You came into the coffee shop that afternoon. You pulled up, music blaring as it always was when you came to work. I noticed how we had the same hair. Somehow we had both developed the Elvira-inspired "poof" in the back of our heads, incorporated somehow into the rest of our 80's metal band-esque rats nest. We had become more alike. It was clear that we were both a little jaded, and were both hanging on to the last fragile strand of our relationships. Hanging on for dear life like little stupid puppies.
A week later, we were both dumped. You called me when you heard the news of my dumpage, and explained how you were also a newly single dumpee. You were pretty drunk on the phone, I could hear it in your voice. You also told me you were drunk, and had been for the past two weeks. So it's not like I had to guess or anything. We decided it was vital that we get together. Common interests, ya know.
I remember what we now call our "first date" vividly. I think it will always stick out in my memory because it was the day I really got to know YOU. You picked me up at my new apartment on the beach. I asked if I could smoke in your car. You told me you quit, then proceeded to ask me for one. It was love.
We drove to a bar on the beach. Immediately we began spilling our guts. Our lives spewed out of our mouths effortlessly. It was easy to talk. We expressed our hatred for men and our love for music. I had taken up guitar, something you were well-versed in. The night progressed and we made our way up to the pub. You insisted I order some poisonous, green drink which apparently gets you really fucked up. We reminisced on old memories working at the coffee shop as we sucked down green drink upon green drink. We laughed. I think we probably even cried, but that sounds retarded. We figured it was in our best interest to do this again sometime.
Our second date you came over to jam with me. You showed up in your six-inch stilettos, guitar in one hand, case of PBR in the other. I was nervous to play music with you, mostly because I was nervous to ever play music for anyone but myself. But you weren't hard to please. I played you "Doll Parts" and sang to my heart's content. You smiled and encouraged me. You listened intently. You never tried to one-up me, even though you easily could have. You were patient and understanding. You taught me "Gunpowder and Lead" and we sang it together. We downed endless cans of PBR and watched them fill up my kitchen counter. We teased our hair and threw on some vests and had a photo shoot where we established our "C.D. cover". (Check it out, it's on thedirty.com BITCHES). We were the deadliest team of potty-mouthed, aspiring country pop star idiots you had ever seen. We were on a path of destruction, we had met our match.
From that point on, you came over every single day. We were heartbroken and inspired. Each time you came over I had written a new song for us. You loved all of them. There was never judgment or criticism. You built me up. We played music all night and recorded our songs in my bathroom on my sister's laptop. It was so ghetto, and they sounded so bad, but we were excited. For those fleeting moments when we stood outside, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other (cigbriety), nothing could bring us down.
Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and soon enough it was summer. We were continuing on our unspoken but painfully obvious bender. But it was a beautiful bender, I'd never take it back. Some nights you would come over in tears and I would console you and hand you a beer. I would tell you you were too pretty to worry about anything so shut up. I totally turned that frown upside down. Ha. Sometimes we would just sit. In silence. For long periods of time. But it was never really silence, because we were comfortable. And I'm pretty sure we were having mind-reading conversations.
It was a scorching hot summer. We were on top of the world, at least we thought so. I mean, technically we weren't but a little vanity can go a long way. Everywhere we went, people knew us. Or at least all the bartender's knew us, and that works too. We spent our days at Duke's. We spent our nights at Duke's. We picked at loaves of sourdough bread and consumed large quantities of Scott's famous snake bites. And Bloody Mary's. Lots of those. You talked too loud and swore too much, and the bartender's always had to tell you to keep it down for the sake of the people around us.
Some nights we would venture out to the Hill. We always had fun there, making fools of ourselves and strutting around the streets like we owned the place. Our nights always ended the same. You would drive me home and I would pass out with my shoes on.
We had countless flings with countless boys, none of which we wasted too much time on. Boys were disposable, we wanted to ruin each and every one.
We compiled a set list and got a gig at a coffee shop. I will never forget the first time we played there. We were dressed to the nines, with heads full of hairspray and chests full of cleavage. It was a blissfully warm night. We bought jumbo plastic cups from Subway and a fifth of tequila. We drank our tequila and Sprite mixtures like water. We practiced our songs in the parking lot on the hood of your car, the sun beating down on our pale, emaciated bodies. It's cool to look like a heroin addict, I heard. All our friends and family gathered inside and cheered us on as we played. We were hot messes, screwing up constantly with every song but we didn't care. You entertained the crowd with your sailor mouth. I'll always remember when I dropped my pic halfway through playing and you pulled out another one for me from in between your gigantic tits. It wasn't even planned.
And then there was Portland.
You came galloping, or more realistically you came dragging your ass in, to my work one day, exclaiming how we were going to drive to Portland that night. We would not be worrying about money or work. Fuck it. Somehow we figured out how to get me out of work that day, and then a customer gave us 150 bucks. It was a lucky day.
The sun was out full-blast. We packed a bag and threw our guitars in the backseat. We turned on Pete Yorn really loud and we were off.
After a couple hours of driving we realized we were starving to death. We stopped in a barren little creepy town where we stumbled upon a tavern. It embodied everything a tavern should: deer heads mounted on the wall, a juke box, a brunette bartender with bad tattoos who's probably, like, 19, and your everyday selection of bearded, big-gut, beer-drinking lifers. It was exactly what we wanted. We scarfed down burgers and got ourselves a nice little buzz off Jack and Diet's. We took pictures of ourselves seducing the life-size cut-out cowboy.
Not even two minutes after hitting the road again, we were pulled over. For driving over the speed limit like TWO miles. You began to spit some game at the cop, flirting or something. You tried. The cop was not impressed and asked you to step out of the vehicle because he apparently smelled booze. On us? What? Noooo. I sat in silence, my heart pounding like a little bitch. You practically skipped out of the car joyously, almost excited. Mr. Policeman decided to be a real dick and give you a field sobriety test. He told you it would probably be smart to take off your six-inchers before walking the line. You strutted up and down that line like it was a fucking runway. Somehow, even after blowing into the breathalizer, you were way under the legal limit. Like I said, it was a lucky day. Fuck you cop.
We reached P-town around 11p.m. We found ourselves Downtown, or so we thought, and decided to just park somewhere and do whatever we wanted. We hit the first bar we could find. Everywhere we went we were surrounded by gay dudes and trannys. We watched an awesome drag show and chatted it up with the queens. Stumbling around the city, we were positive we were in the wrong part of town. Where were all the hipsters? No one seemed to have the faintest idea where "the other part of the city is". Finally, a bartender who wasn't out of his goddamn mind told us we were on the wrong side of the Burnside Bridge. Woops.
After countless drinks we decided we probably needed to sleep. You wanted to sleep in the car. I told you that absolutely would not be happening. We found a shitty motel. For some strange and creepy reason we ordered a "smoking" room. We even asked for it, like, for some reason we thought we would really need one. Later we would regret this, considering it was a smoking room. We passed out cold in our smokey dungeon.
The next day we explored the "right" part of town. We found ourselves a park and played our songs there on the grass. We came to the conclusion that we would be moving here as soon as humanly possible. We had to get away. Seattle was like, a germ or something. We went to dinner and you picked out a boy, our server. Said he had a "cute butt". We drank margaritas until he got off work, then invited cute-butt guy to hang out. We bar-hopped the night away. We danced. A lot. You took some unforgivable pictures of me.
Then the time came to drive back. It was very, very late. We both had to work in, like, five hours. Upon being carried into the passenger's seat of your car, I immediately passed out. This is usually what happens to me. I enter a coma-like state. Healthyyyy. You had a strange, exhausted drive home. The next day you would tell me you accidentally hit a dog. I still didn't wake up.
Weeks passed and the end of summer began to arrive. I had foolishly gone back to my ex, and you had met a boy too. We got Thelma and Louise tattooed on our asses.
I got way too caught up in my relationship. I spent less time with you. We stopped playing music. It was a stupid time. Still, you were my go-to bitch. You supported me, even though you probably knew I was making lame decisions. Still, you told me to follow my heart. Throughout this time you moved to the beach and became my neighbor. I started to see you content. You were independent and happy with it. You never brought up your ex anymore.
When I got dumped yet again, you were there for me, no questions asked. You never held it against me for sort of leaving you in the dust. The duo was back.
Months have passed now, and I was just thinking about it and it's been basically a year since our first date. A lot has changed in our lives, mostly for the better. It's definitely been a year of learning. Without having met you, I don't think I would have realized my potential. You kind of brought me out of my shell in a way. You're my best friend because you appreciate me. You appreciate my quirks and my red lipstick and poofy hair. I've always said, "the dude who loves me as much as Darc will be the one for me!" You will always be my Louise.
Also, if you were in a wheelchair or your face got 90 degree burns or something, I would totally still hang out with you. I'd cart your ass around.
I knew you a couple years prior. We worked together at the same coffee shop where I currently sit, still, after three and a half years. Some things don't change.
I was about seventeen, you were about twenty. I was introverted, and captivated by your extravagance. You were mouthy. You were a badass. You ranted about rock stars and boys and tattoos. You sang country songs out loud.
I can recall you once saying you wanted to get to pistols tattooed on either side of your hips. I'm really glad you didn't do that.
Shortly thereafter you moved away to Montana to be with a boy. I hardly knew you at the time, so it didn't really matter. For the next couple of years we lived our seperate lives. I met a boy too. My life progressed in good ways and bad. Looking back I can see how it started to parallel yours, even though we were on opposite ends of the geographical spectrum.
We both fell quickly and carelessly into what we thought was love. Yyyyeah. We slowly and surely began to lose ourselves in our relationships. I dated a boy who gave me lots of tattoos and drank with me on weekdays. He was cool. He was confusing. He let me down. You dated a boy in a band. He introduced you to a brand new life. He was cool. He was confusing. He let you down.
One day I heard that you were back in Seattle. Out of the blue you texted me asking if I was at work and had my makeup with me. I replied, "duh". I'm pretty sure your exact words were, "I knew that bitch would have her makeup!"
You came into the coffee shop that afternoon. You pulled up, music blaring as it always was when you came to work. I noticed how we had the same hair. Somehow we had both developed the Elvira-inspired "poof" in the back of our heads, incorporated somehow into the rest of our 80's metal band-esque rats nest. We had become more alike. It was clear that we were both a little jaded, and were both hanging on to the last fragile strand of our relationships. Hanging on for dear life like little stupid puppies.
A week later, we were both dumped. You called me when you heard the news of my dumpage, and explained how you were also a newly single dumpee. You were pretty drunk on the phone, I could hear it in your voice. You also told me you were drunk, and had been for the past two weeks. So it's not like I had to guess or anything. We decided it was vital that we get together. Common interests, ya know.
I remember what we now call our "first date" vividly. I think it will always stick out in my memory because it was the day I really got to know YOU. You picked me up at my new apartment on the beach. I asked if I could smoke in your car. You told me you quit, then proceeded to ask me for one. It was love.
We drove to a bar on the beach. Immediately we began spilling our guts. Our lives spewed out of our mouths effortlessly. It was easy to talk. We expressed our hatred for men and our love for music. I had taken up guitar, something you were well-versed in. The night progressed and we made our way up to the pub. You insisted I order some poisonous, green drink which apparently gets you really fucked up. We reminisced on old memories working at the coffee shop as we sucked down green drink upon green drink. We laughed. I think we probably even cried, but that sounds retarded. We figured it was in our best interest to do this again sometime.
Our second date you came over to jam with me. You showed up in your six-inch stilettos, guitar in one hand, case of PBR in the other. I was nervous to play music with you, mostly because I was nervous to ever play music for anyone but myself. But you weren't hard to please. I played you "Doll Parts" and sang to my heart's content. You smiled and encouraged me. You listened intently. You never tried to one-up me, even though you easily could have. You were patient and understanding. You taught me "Gunpowder and Lead" and we sang it together. We downed endless cans of PBR and watched them fill up my kitchen counter. We teased our hair and threw on some vests and had a photo shoot where we established our "C.D. cover". (Check it out, it's on thedirty.com BITCHES). We were the deadliest team of potty-mouthed, aspiring country pop star idiots you had ever seen. We were on a path of destruction, we had met our match.
From that point on, you came over every single day. We were heartbroken and inspired. Each time you came over I had written a new song for us. You loved all of them. There was never judgment or criticism. You built me up. We played music all night and recorded our songs in my bathroom on my sister's laptop. It was so ghetto, and they sounded so bad, but we were excited. For those fleeting moments when we stood outside, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other (cigbriety), nothing could bring us down.
Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and soon enough it was summer. We were continuing on our unspoken but painfully obvious bender. But it was a beautiful bender, I'd never take it back. Some nights you would come over in tears and I would console you and hand you a beer. I would tell you you were too pretty to worry about anything so shut up. I totally turned that frown upside down. Ha. Sometimes we would just sit. In silence. For long periods of time. But it was never really silence, because we were comfortable. And I'm pretty sure we were having mind-reading conversations.
It was a scorching hot summer. We were on top of the world, at least we thought so. I mean, technically we weren't but a little vanity can go a long way. Everywhere we went, people knew us. Or at least all the bartender's knew us, and that works too. We spent our days at Duke's. We spent our nights at Duke's. We picked at loaves of sourdough bread and consumed large quantities of Scott's famous snake bites. And Bloody Mary's. Lots of those. You talked too loud and swore too much, and the bartender's always had to tell you to keep it down for the sake of the people around us.
Some nights we would venture out to the Hill. We always had fun there, making fools of ourselves and strutting around the streets like we owned the place. Our nights always ended the same. You would drive me home and I would pass out with my shoes on.
We had countless flings with countless boys, none of which we wasted too much time on. Boys were disposable, we wanted to ruin each and every one.
We compiled a set list and got a gig at a coffee shop. I will never forget the first time we played there. We were dressed to the nines, with heads full of hairspray and chests full of cleavage. It was a blissfully warm night. We bought jumbo plastic cups from Subway and a fifth of tequila. We drank our tequila and Sprite mixtures like water. We practiced our songs in the parking lot on the hood of your car, the sun beating down on our pale, emaciated bodies. It's cool to look like a heroin addict, I heard. All our friends and family gathered inside and cheered us on as we played. We were hot messes, screwing up constantly with every song but we didn't care. You entertained the crowd with your sailor mouth. I'll always remember when I dropped my pic halfway through playing and you pulled out another one for me from in between your gigantic tits. It wasn't even planned.
And then there was Portland.
You came galloping, or more realistically you came dragging your ass in, to my work one day, exclaiming how we were going to drive to Portland that night. We would not be worrying about money or work. Fuck it. Somehow we figured out how to get me out of work that day, and then a customer gave us 150 bucks. It was a lucky day.
The sun was out full-blast. We packed a bag and threw our guitars in the backseat. We turned on Pete Yorn really loud and we were off.
After a couple hours of driving we realized we were starving to death. We stopped in a barren little creepy town where we stumbled upon a tavern. It embodied everything a tavern should: deer heads mounted on the wall, a juke box, a brunette bartender with bad tattoos who's probably, like, 19, and your everyday selection of bearded, big-gut, beer-drinking lifers. It was exactly what we wanted. We scarfed down burgers and got ourselves a nice little buzz off Jack and Diet's. We took pictures of ourselves seducing the life-size cut-out cowboy.
Not even two minutes after hitting the road again, we were pulled over. For driving over the speed limit like TWO miles. You began to spit some game at the cop, flirting or something. You tried. The cop was not impressed and asked you to step out of the vehicle because he apparently smelled booze. On us? What? Noooo. I sat in silence, my heart pounding like a little bitch. You practically skipped out of the car joyously, almost excited. Mr. Policeman decided to be a real dick and give you a field sobriety test. He told you it would probably be smart to take off your six-inchers before walking the line. You strutted up and down that line like it was a fucking runway. Somehow, even after blowing into the breathalizer, you were way under the legal limit. Like I said, it was a lucky day. Fuck you cop.
We reached P-town around 11p.m. We found ourselves Downtown, or so we thought, and decided to just park somewhere and do whatever we wanted. We hit the first bar we could find. Everywhere we went we were surrounded by gay dudes and trannys. We watched an awesome drag show and chatted it up with the queens. Stumbling around the city, we were positive we were in the wrong part of town. Where were all the hipsters? No one seemed to have the faintest idea where "the other part of the city is". Finally, a bartender who wasn't out of his goddamn mind told us we were on the wrong side of the Burnside Bridge. Woops.
After countless drinks we decided we probably needed to sleep. You wanted to sleep in the car. I told you that absolutely would not be happening. We found a shitty motel. For some strange and creepy reason we ordered a "smoking" room. We even asked for it, like, for some reason we thought we would really need one. Later we would regret this, considering it was a smoking room. We passed out cold in our smokey dungeon.
The next day we explored the "right" part of town. We found ourselves a park and played our songs there on the grass. We came to the conclusion that we would be moving here as soon as humanly possible. We had to get away. Seattle was like, a germ or something. We went to dinner and you picked out a boy, our server. Said he had a "cute butt". We drank margaritas until he got off work, then invited cute-butt guy to hang out. We bar-hopped the night away. We danced. A lot. You took some unforgivable pictures of me.
Then the time came to drive back. It was very, very late. We both had to work in, like, five hours. Upon being carried into the passenger's seat of your car, I immediately passed out. This is usually what happens to me. I enter a coma-like state. Healthyyyy. You had a strange, exhausted drive home. The next day you would tell me you accidentally hit a dog. I still didn't wake up.
Weeks passed and the end of summer began to arrive. I had foolishly gone back to my ex, and you had met a boy too. We got Thelma and Louise tattooed on our asses.
I got way too caught up in my relationship. I spent less time with you. We stopped playing music. It was a stupid time. Still, you were my go-to bitch. You supported me, even though you probably knew I was making lame decisions. Still, you told me to follow my heart. Throughout this time you moved to the beach and became my neighbor. I started to see you content. You were independent and happy with it. You never brought up your ex anymore.
When I got dumped yet again, you were there for me, no questions asked. You never held it against me for sort of leaving you in the dust. The duo was back.
Months have passed now, and I was just thinking about it and it's been basically a year since our first date. A lot has changed in our lives, mostly for the better. It's definitely been a year of learning. Without having met you, I don't think I would have realized my potential. You kind of brought me out of my shell in a way. You're my best friend because you appreciate me. You appreciate my quirks and my red lipstick and poofy hair. I've always said, "the dude who loves me as much as Darc will be the one for me!" You will always be my Louise.
Also, if you were in a wheelchair or your face got 90 degree burns or something, I would totally still hang out with you. I'd cart your ass around.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I don't know why.
Every time I try
I end up falling in a trash can
By the end of the night
Smear my lipstick
Against the wall
Of a red-lit bathroom stall
See your face in him
It makes me dizzy
Trying to stay busy
What's your last name
What's your first name
Took a stranger home
And I don't know why
Every time I try
I end up falling in a trash can
I end up falling in a trash can
By the end of the night
Smear my lipstick
Against the wall
Of a red-lit bathroom stall
See your face in him
It makes me dizzy
Trying to stay busy
What's your last name
What's your first name
Took a stranger home
And I don't know why
Every time I try
I end up falling in a trash can
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Touche.
Wished that you would give a fuck
If I talked to other men
If I made a move to spite you
But nothing phased you in the end
And you were always on the fence
Hope you know I never second-guessed
All the time that you spent getting high
Guess that I was second best
Just too young to see the signs
You had a love affair with little white lines
I wanted you for you
You wanted me to pass the time
We only fucked as a distraction
Disguise the lack of satisfaction
Watched you tear the room apart
It's all a chain reaction
When you hit bottom you decided
To live your life the way that I did
You'd think for the time I stuck around
I might have been invited
Now I don't have much to say
Guess you never really knew me
For the hell I must have put you through
Way to stick it to me.
If I talked to other men
If I made a move to spite you
But nothing phased you in the end
And you were always on the fence
Hope you know I never second-guessed
All the time that you spent getting high
Guess that I was second best
Just too young to see the signs
You had a love affair with little white lines
I wanted you for you
You wanted me to pass the time
We only fucked as a distraction
Disguise the lack of satisfaction
Watched you tear the room apart
It's all a chain reaction
When you hit bottom you decided
To live your life the way that I did
You'd think for the time I stuck around
I might have been invited
Now I don't have much to say
Guess you never really knew me
For the hell I must have put you through
Way to stick it to me.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
I got bored. This entertainted me.
Annoying things:
- Not having nail polish remover and trying to pry that shit off when you know it ain't happenin'.
- Not being able to kill a moth when it's flying around your tiny workspace and kinda scares the shit out of you.... and it WON'T DIE.
- Nights when no matter how much you drink you can't get drunk.
- Realizing you need to get gas.
- When your mom asks you stupid questions. Or brings up the fact that your account is withdrawn, or that you just spent all your money on clothes when you need to pay your $500 electric bill. (I love you mom) :)
- When it's raining and you're trying to smoke a cigarette.
- Standing under a cover and getting that ONE, HUGE raindrop right, smack dab in the middle of your face. Or down your shirt.
- When something happens that makes you feel very nervous and you have no more cigarettes.
- Dealing with real life.
- Bad phone/wireless reception.
- When your rockies aren't "blue".
- When someone tells you there's something on your face and no matter how hard you try to get it off you are always rubbing the wrong place.
- Customers that don't tip. And YES you are supposed to.
- When you wonder why musical artist's add synth to their song and all of a sudden they're famous.
- Getting broken up with by someone uglier than you are.
- When there's NO place to park. And it's raining. And everyone is driving a Kia.
- When you overdraft your account on a yogurt. Don't you love $35 yogurts? Me too.
- Places like the "Cha Cha" that have red light and make your red lips look pale.
- People who put walnuts in cookies.
- Smelly balls.
- When you find a really hot guy and he has a small penis.
- When you've tuned both guitars and somehow they're STILL sounding out of tune. And for some reason you don't have a tuner.
- Getting coughing attacks when you're making coffee for prude customers who will totally tell your boss.
- Dirty carpets.
- Really hyper dogs. Like Jack Russell Terriers.
- Babies who don't stop crying and their mom's are oblivious. Basically, just other people's kids in general.
- Guys that don't get the hint.
- Spending $300 bucks on four items. And then wearing them every day. Because, of course, you're gonna "see different people".
- Small talk.
- When you wear fake eyelashes all the time and then don't have them one day and realize you feel really ugly.
- Really hairy men. Shave. Wax. Get the job done.
- When a really good song comes on that you're feelin and you're with someone who sucks ass at singing but thinks they're good and they try to sing to it and ruin it for you.
- People who copy you.
- Getting lost when you "totally know how to get here".
- Getting hit on by 7-11 workers when you're in a really bad mood.
- Songs that suck. And people who like them.
- Opening your fridge and seeing a jar of pickles, an expired container of jam, and some mini condiments you took from Taco Time.
- Being on your period.
- Not being on your period when you're supposed to be.
- Bikers. Your fat ass can't go as fast as the rest of the cars, get over it. They make bike lanes for a reason.
- People who give you shit for making lists like this.
- Doing math. Ever.
- Self-righteous religious people. Shut up. No one cares.
- Flaky drug dealers. Hahhahhaha.
- No clean underwear.
- Dropping your phone in a toilet.
- Not being inspired.
- When you're in sixth grade and you go to people's houses and their parents are really stingy on what you can and can't eat. And they have no good snack foods.
- Being paid minimum wage.
- Feeling like you're balding.
- Girls who wear Juicy. And carry Coach purses. Get original, bitch. You remind me of high school.
- People who can't decipher between "your" and "you're". Or "there", "their" and "they're". FUCKING LEARN IT. IT ANNOYS ME SOOOO BAD.
- People who give you shit for being on Facebook a lot. Look, you wouldn't know I was if you weren't.
- Talking about your friend's awesome sex lives when you don't have one.
- Being broke as shit.
- People who wear high-waters. Ever realized you may be too tall for those puppies?
- Bushy brows. On girls. On guys it's fabulous.
- Really ugly, fat girls who tell you "you're just jealous". Trrrrrust me.....
- Being alone.
- Stepping in dog piss/shit.
- West Seattle, and pretty much everyone in it.
- People who walk too slow in front of you. These long legs walk FAST. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY.
- Malls.
- People who don't speak English in the U.S. Look, I'm not mean. You just make me feel awkward. And I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU. Why are you talking to me???? We are not on the same level. Clearly.
- High and mighty music people. Maybe I don't know as much as you on the subject of music, but don't "test" me. I like what I like.
- People with bad tattoos who think they know EVERYTHING about tattoos because they got a tribal band or the word "love" in Chinese.
- Being cold.
- Natural beauty. I'm just jealous.
- Other people's relationships when you're not in one. Again, I'm just jealous.
- Burning yourself.
- People who try to get attention off other people's problems.
- Band-aids. They're really gross when you take them off. Ew.
- People who share things like string cheese, gum, or milk.
- When you make out with a guy and they use way too much tongue. God.
- Feet.
- Courtesy laughing to lame shit.
- People with B.O. Deoderant? It would totally solve that, hippie.
- People who are way too tan. Everything in moderation my friends.
- Girls you demean you with the terms "hun" or "sweetie".
- Guys that wear pink shirts. EVER.
- When you run out of hot water in the shower.
- Not having a boy around to kill the spider.
- When you're watching a movie and 3/4 of the way the shit skips.
- Wind fucking up your hair.
- Wearing rings when you wanna wash your hands.
- Shitty pours by shitty bartenders.
- Waiters who don't refill your Diet Coke. Or who don't offer you water.
- When you're eating carrots, and one tastes REALLY bad. This always happens.
- Going on a date, and the boy not offering to pay. You took me. You pay. Chivalry's SO not dead. You're a pussy if you think otherwise.
- People who talk to their boyfriends/girlfriends like babies. MOST ANNOYING THING EVERRRRR. OMG.
- Another is too much P.D.A. I have NEVER done this.
- People who can't take a shot of something and wanna drink some purple murple bullshit. Tequila please. Whiskey. Anything.
- Picky, PICKY eaters. Get over it.
- When guys don't know how to fuck.
- Stubbing your toe. AHHHHH!
- People that "correct". You know, what if I DIDN'T mean that? What if, maybe, you GOT THE POINT???
- Homophobes. Trying to hide something? ;)
- People who don't appreciate art. I don't understand that.
- Moshers at concerts, when it's totally inappropriate to be doing so.
Aaaaaand.... that's it for now.
- Not having nail polish remover and trying to pry that shit off when you know it ain't happenin'.
- Not being able to kill a moth when it's flying around your tiny workspace and kinda scares the shit out of you.... and it WON'T DIE.
- Nights when no matter how much you drink you can't get drunk.
- Realizing you need to get gas.
- When your mom asks you stupid questions. Or brings up the fact that your account is withdrawn, or that you just spent all your money on clothes when you need to pay your $500 electric bill. (I love you mom) :)
- When it's raining and you're trying to smoke a cigarette.
- Standing under a cover and getting that ONE, HUGE raindrop right, smack dab in the middle of your face. Or down your shirt.
- When something happens that makes you feel very nervous and you have no more cigarettes.
- Dealing with real life.
- Bad phone/wireless reception.
- When your rockies aren't "blue".
- When someone tells you there's something on your face and no matter how hard you try to get it off you are always rubbing the wrong place.
- Customers that don't tip. And YES you are supposed to.
- When you wonder why musical artist's add synth to their song and all of a sudden they're famous.
- Getting broken up with by someone uglier than you are.
- When there's NO place to park. And it's raining. And everyone is driving a Kia.
- When you overdraft your account on a yogurt. Don't you love $35 yogurts? Me too.
- Places like the "Cha Cha" that have red light and make your red lips look pale.
- People who put walnuts in cookies.
- Smelly balls.
- When you find a really hot guy and he has a small penis.
- When you've tuned both guitars and somehow they're STILL sounding out of tune. And for some reason you don't have a tuner.
- Getting coughing attacks when you're making coffee for prude customers who will totally tell your boss.
- Dirty carpets.
- Really hyper dogs. Like Jack Russell Terriers.
- Babies who don't stop crying and their mom's are oblivious. Basically, just other people's kids in general.
- Guys that don't get the hint.
- Spending $300 bucks on four items. And then wearing them every day. Because, of course, you're gonna "see different people".
- Small talk.
- When you wear fake eyelashes all the time and then don't have them one day and realize you feel really ugly.
- Really hairy men. Shave. Wax. Get the job done.
- When a really good song comes on that you're feelin and you're with someone who sucks ass at singing but thinks they're good and they try to sing to it and ruin it for you.
- People who copy you.
- Getting lost when you "totally know how to get here".
- Getting hit on by 7-11 workers when you're in a really bad mood.
- Songs that suck. And people who like them.
- Opening your fridge and seeing a jar of pickles, an expired container of jam, and some mini condiments you took from Taco Time.
- Being on your period.
- Not being on your period when you're supposed to be.
- Bikers. Your fat ass can't go as fast as the rest of the cars, get over it. They make bike lanes for a reason.
- People who give you shit for making lists like this.
- Doing math. Ever.
- Self-righteous religious people. Shut up. No one cares.
- Flaky drug dealers. Hahhahhaha.
- No clean underwear.
- Dropping your phone in a toilet.
- Not being inspired.
- When you're in sixth grade and you go to people's houses and their parents are really stingy on what you can and can't eat. And they have no good snack foods.
- Being paid minimum wage.
- Feeling like you're balding.
- Girls who wear Juicy. And carry Coach purses. Get original, bitch. You remind me of high school.
- People who can't decipher between "your" and "you're". Or "there", "their" and "they're". FUCKING LEARN IT. IT ANNOYS ME SOOOO BAD.
- People who give you shit for being on Facebook a lot. Look, you wouldn't know I was if you weren't.
- Talking about your friend's awesome sex lives when you don't have one.
- Being broke as shit.
- People who wear high-waters. Ever realized you may be too tall for those puppies?
- Bushy brows. On girls. On guys it's fabulous.
- Really ugly, fat girls who tell you "you're just jealous". Trrrrrust me.....
- Being alone.
- Stepping in dog piss/shit.
- West Seattle, and pretty much everyone in it.
- People who walk too slow in front of you. These long legs walk FAST. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY.
- Malls.
- People who don't speak English in the U.S. Look, I'm not mean. You just make me feel awkward. And I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU. Why are you talking to me???? We are not on the same level. Clearly.
- High and mighty music people. Maybe I don't know as much as you on the subject of music, but don't "test" me. I like what I like.
- People with bad tattoos who think they know EVERYTHING about tattoos because they got a tribal band or the word "love" in Chinese.
- Being cold.
- Natural beauty. I'm just jealous.
- Other people's relationships when you're not in one. Again, I'm just jealous.
- Burning yourself.
- People who try to get attention off other people's problems.
- Band-aids. They're really gross when you take them off. Ew.
- People who share things like string cheese, gum, or milk.
- When you make out with a guy and they use way too much tongue. God.
- Feet.
- Courtesy laughing to lame shit.
- People with B.O. Deoderant? It would totally solve that, hippie.
- People who are way too tan. Everything in moderation my friends.
- Girls you demean you with the terms "hun" or "sweetie".
- Guys that wear pink shirts. EVER.
- When you run out of hot water in the shower.
- Not having a boy around to kill the spider.
- When you're watching a movie and 3/4 of the way the shit skips.
- Wind fucking up your hair.
- Wearing rings when you wanna wash your hands.
- Shitty pours by shitty bartenders.
- Waiters who don't refill your Diet Coke. Or who don't offer you water.
- When you're eating carrots, and one tastes REALLY bad. This always happens.
- Going on a date, and the boy not offering to pay. You took me. You pay. Chivalry's SO not dead. You're a pussy if you think otherwise.
- People who talk to their boyfriends/girlfriends like babies. MOST ANNOYING THING EVERRRRR. OMG.
- Another is too much P.D.A. I have NEVER done this.
- People who can't take a shot of something and wanna drink some purple murple bullshit. Tequila please. Whiskey. Anything.
- Picky, PICKY eaters. Get over it.
- When guys don't know how to fuck.
- Stubbing your toe. AHHHHH!
- People that "correct". You know, what if I DIDN'T mean that? What if, maybe, you GOT THE POINT???
- Homophobes. Trying to hide something? ;)
- People who don't appreciate art. I don't understand that.
- Moshers at concerts, when it's totally inappropriate to be doing so.
Aaaaaand.... that's it for now.
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