I doubt I will post much if at all this week. Our place is being completely renovated and there is too much to do.

Later!

If you've ever felt like dressing like a complete fucktard Pioneer, Lydia of Purple would love to help you out. In the name of Jesus of course.

If you met me, I could probably convince you that I was this quiet, steady reliable girl, the sort who goes home after a hard day's work to take care of any number of responsibilities, including some she had taken on just because she enjoys that sort of thing. I think I enjoy perpetuating this sham, because it keeps people from knowing the real me, or more importantly, it keeps me from worrying about what people think, because really, who thinks about the quiet responsible girl at all?

Then occasionally, I'll write something revealing on here, and people respond like I've led some sort of interesting, risqué, slightly bad life, and I think to myself that really, I'm missing that edge that makes anything I do worthy of dissection, I'm not the girl who just does, the one everybody sort of envies even while they breathe a sigh of relief that they don't have that life. So maybe the pretend me really isn't that pretend at all? God, I hope not.

So what the fuck holds me back? Sometimes people will tell me I'm angry, WOW you gotta love people who take satisfaction in pointing out what is sometimes so obvious that to point it out only shows how little they think.

Maybe this is what I like about blogging. You can every once in a while count on someone to point out something that makes them look stupider than you. Or in my case, angrier.

Right before I fall asleep I tend to have these lengthy mental conversations with myself, and really they would make good blog posts but I never bother to get out of bed and post them and inevitably I have forgotten by the time I get around to it.

I have no spark, I don't know where it went. Where has my fucking wang chung gone?

I just noticed, that new Lenscrafter ad sounds like a gay dance club.

I'm really sick and tired of letting life just happen to me. Even the most damaged people have managed to be focused on at least one thing, even if it's drinking. Hell, plenty of people can focus on that and at least one other thing too.

I don't know if I can even focus on 1/2 a thing for more than 30 minutes. Maybe we should change that to 3 minutes because I've already lost interest in this post.

on Yahoo today: "Madonna lectures film students in New York".

Yeah that should be good. Madonna lecturing film students is like me lecturing optimists.

I'm not even halfway through that pie. It's starting to make me feel sick.

I'm in one of those stages where the blog is really boring me. Also, my camera is working badly and is really a piece of crap although it did not start out that way.

I bought a massive apple pie at the Big Apple on the side of the highway and I plan to eat the whole thing by myself. With cream.

What the fuck is THIS? Please tell me people don't actually buy stuff like this. Sigh.

Somebody please tell me what the hell is wrong with a phone that actually sounds like a phone when it rings? Cell phones are bad enough, but displaying your shitty taste in music (and also advertising that you are the kind of dingbat who cares about that kind of thing) is taking it too far. I suppose on the other hand it's a good way to tell immediately that someone is an annoying twat.

I wish I had the nerve to grab your phone and smash it with my boots.

O.K. I'm going to Montreal. Back Tuesday.

this city is such that taking a 5 minute walk guarantees that not only will you be asked for money/smokes but you will pass at least 3 people who look like they might potentially push you into traffic as you pass.

I'm starting to see the trashy charm of Hamilton.

"Your Brother Doesn't Want To Go"

Video
I find this video very soothing for some reason, even though it is from way before I ever went there. God, I loved Belmont Park.

There really needs to be more Ham Farleys in the world.

No we weren't imagining that shitty smell...

I'm beginning to realize that sometimes the cutest things...

are also the most disgusting.


Nice work. I'll remember this, stinkbomb.

Go ahead, call me a nerdburglar... I can't wait for this!

Ate chinese food last night which involves balancing the plate on my lap and shovelling it in, creating a snowstorm of rice. I'm not a very delicate eater when planted in front of the television. A bit of a celebration feast really, I finally quit the farm job yesterday, and it's a relief. I think I spent more in gas driving to that job than I actually made once there, but of course the real reason I quit is because the boss was a crazy, forgetful and mean spirited witch.

This is boring. I'll think of something more interesting to say later. Got more chinese food to eat now.

I have fucking permanent heartburn.

Last night I dreamed I wrote a series of books including such titles as "How to Crash your plane... and Survive!" and it's landlocked companion "How to Crash your car...and Survive!" I know they were full of helpful tips, but I can't remember any of them now.


I think I'm a little obsessed with plane crashes.


You know, there is so much shit going on in the world, if you think about it, it can really make your insides hurt. As someone who is too lazy to stand for anything, I've pretty much adopted apathy, which is a little dated and very 90's of me, but whatever, I'm retro or something.


If you are mean to my cats, I will flatten you.