I have a fat ass.
I've got panty-lines.
I need my hair trimmed.
and my roots dyed.
My grey hairs are starting to show again.
My big, fat belly sticks out from under my shirt like the spawn of Satan is growing inside me.
It's not.
Maybe then I'd have an excuse.
The dark circles under my eyes are getting wrinkled.
I have zits.
I can't see far enough down to paint my toenails accurately.
Did I mention the gross belly fat? Effin disgusting.
My tits are barely detectable.
My fingernails are broken and split.
Some guy jumped out of an alley this morning and beat me savagely with The Ugly Stick (tm).
My elbows are boney.
My thighs have expanded.
My teeth are yellow.
My breath smells like coffee and cigarettes.
I have excessive ear wax.
My feet smell worse than my breath.
Is it any wonder I haven't gotten laid in forever?
7.27.2007
7.26.2007
7.25.2007
Hell in the Air
The first hour of the morning began status quo. She hit the snooze three times before finally rising from her bed. Then, she spent twenty fruitless minutes tearing apart her bedroom in search of undergarments she swore she had owned at one point. After brushing teeth, petting cats and frowning at her uncooperative hairdo, she started her drive to the train station. As usual, the radio station that she, for some reason, remained faithful to played only two songs during the 15 minute drive. The rest of the time she tried to tune out a series of especially irritating ads.
After she'd parked, heaved her school bag onto her shoulder, and locked the vehicle, she crossed the enormous (but somehow never big enough) parking lot in order to wait for her train. When she crossed the bridge to the station, there was an unusually large crowd. She weaved her way past the various bodies and finally settled on a line to follow. Several minutes went by. Looking over her surroundings, she recognized the greasy looking cop that took her train sometimes. The guy standing in front of him had his headphones up so loud, that everyone in a 20 foot radius must have been able to hear his poor taste in music.
With the number of people waiting at the station, she figured that one of the regular trains hadn't come by. When a train finally pulled up to the station, it was coming from the wrong direction and riding on the wrong set of tracks. Another woman around her age gave her a puzzled look and asked to confirm the weird arrival of the train. She nodded.
After hooking up her own headphones, and blasting the Fratellis at what was probably a discourteous volume, she tried to play solitaire, squinting at the miniature cards on her iPod. A couple of times, the train stopped at places that were not stations. It seemed to take forever to get downtown. After another brief conversation with the girl she'd spoken to earlier, she was lugging her baggage down the ped mall. A security guard passed her, walking the opposite direction. As she was pondering the reasons why security guards don those stupid looking hats, she noticed another one. He was stationed outside the Nike store.
All along her journey this morning, she could sense something strange. Something was just a little off, as if there was a serious problem that no one was talking about. Rather than being afraid, this put her on her guard and peaked her curiosity. She boarded the elevator at work, wondering if she'd ever find out what was going on.
After she'd parked, heaved her school bag onto her shoulder, and locked the vehicle, she crossed the enormous (but somehow never big enough) parking lot in order to wait for her train. When she crossed the bridge to the station, there was an unusually large crowd. She weaved her way past the various bodies and finally settled on a line to follow. Several minutes went by. Looking over her surroundings, she recognized the greasy looking cop that took her train sometimes. The guy standing in front of him had his headphones up so loud, that everyone in a 20 foot radius must have been able to hear his poor taste in music.
With the number of people waiting at the station, she figured that one of the regular trains hadn't come by. When a train finally pulled up to the station, it was coming from the wrong direction and riding on the wrong set of tracks. Another woman around her age gave her a puzzled look and asked to confirm the weird arrival of the train. She nodded.
After hooking up her own headphones, and blasting the Fratellis at what was probably a discourteous volume, she tried to play solitaire, squinting at the miniature cards on her iPod. A couple of times, the train stopped at places that were not stations. It seemed to take forever to get downtown. After another brief conversation with the girl she'd spoken to earlier, she was lugging her baggage down the ped mall. A security guard passed her, walking the opposite direction. As she was pondering the reasons why security guards don those stupid looking hats, she noticed another one. He was stationed outside the Nike store.
All along her journey this morning, she could sense something strange. Something was just a little off, as if there was a serious problem that no one was talking about. Rather than being afraid, this put her on her guard and peaked her curiosity. She boarded the elevator at work, wondering if she'd ever find out what was going on.
7.23.2007
From Hell and Back to It
Well, I have returned from the big city. It's been a week now and I've been remiss in my blogging duties. However, I started my class at the art college and I've been swamped. I went to school 6 out of 7 days last week! Unbeknownst to me, Photoshop was a prereq for this class and I have the Photoshop experience of a hedgehog (whatever that means). So, I've been trying to familiarize myself with the program on days I don't have class. Problems is, we do all of our work on super-expensive Macs with loads of creative software that I don't have at home, nor could I afford in the foreseeable future. So, what the Hell am I going to do with all of my mad skills once this class is over?? Beats me.
7.05.2007
The Hinged Head of Hell
So, when you load your Pez dispenser, do you load a full package in, or leave one out to eat? I leave one out.
I'm splitting town tomorrow and I have 15 minutes until work is over today - so needless to say, I'm chewing my nails. There has been more disaster and random shit in the past week - as if things couldn't get worse. My cat went ballistic on the neighbor's arm and he's in kitty prison for 10 days. The neighbor's daughter is a friggin' nutjob and wants us to pay for stupid shit like a housemaid. The situation is likely to result in a lawsuit before long, which is just lovely. The bitch is demanding to have my cat put to sleep - which is why my father doesn't want me to talk to her. There's no way she can make that happen, so I'll just point and laugh while she spins her wheels. Our actual neighbor hasn't given us any trouble, only her psycho daughter. So, how much will this whole fiasco end up costing me? Well, let's start with the charge for kitty to be in a hotel for 10 days. Then, we can add in whatever attorney's fees and court filing fees, etc. Another friggin' nightmare.
But, at least I can escape for a while. I <3 NY! I just hope I don't have to hear about my dead brother constantly. I'll just drink a lot - wait..I do that now, and it doesn't help much....hmm...Vicadin?
I'm splitting town tomorrow and I have 15 minutes until work is over today - so needless to say, I'm chewing my nails. There has been more disaster and random shit in the past week - as if things couldn't get worse. My cat went ballistic on the neighbor's arm and he's in kitty prison for 10 days. The neighbor's daughter is a friggin' nutjob and wants us to pay for stupid shit like a housemaid. The situation is likely to result in a lawsuit before long, which is just lovely. The bitch is demanding to have my cat put to sleep - which is why my father doesn't want me to talk to her. There's no way she can make that happen, so I'll just point and laugh while she spins her wheels. Our actual neighbor hasn't given us any trouble, only her psycho daughter. So, how much will this whole fiasco end up costing me? Well, let's start with the charge for kitty to be in a hotel for 10 days. Then, we can add in whatever attorney's fees and court filing fees, etc. Another friggin' nightmare.
But, at least I can escape for a while. I <3 NY! I just hope I don't have to hear about my dead brother constantly. I'll just drink a lot - wait..I do that now, and it doesn't help much....hmm...Vicadin?
6.27.2007
Disregard This Hell
Just don't pay attention to these pics. I'm trying to find a place to host them so I can make a Quizilla. Which is proving to be a complete bitch, by the way.
6.26.2007
Helz Buneez
I'm getting more and more into this LOL thing. This one is right up my alley. (Not like THAT, you pervert!) Kurtsy Tha Intarwebs.
Hell is Very Deer to Me
Today, instead of a mountain goat, I feel like a deer. Still pointy-hooved, but more delicate and long-legged. I can't believe these shoes aren't killing my feet. They're lovely. Oh, and no animals were harmed in the making of them either.
Have I mentioned that I'm going to New York next month? I can hardly wait. It will be so nice to get out of here and see the big city again. In the meantime, I've got to get some financial aid lined up for this class I'm going to take at the art school. I'm excited for that two. If there's one thing the death of my brother has taught me, it's that you can go at any time. So, it's best to do what you really want while you can. And, since I'm sick of my life the way it is, I'm trying at least in some meager way to make some changes. If it goes well, this site will kick ass, 'cause I'm going for a web design certification. If I like that, I may take more classes, but I need to work whatever I consider into my work schedule.
6.25.2007
Hell Outspoken
My goal for today is to stop talking to myself out loud.
There's another review up at Neko Goes...It's another Cage film.
There's another review up at Neko Goes...It's another Cage film.
6.20.2007
Women Are From Venus, Men Are From Hell
For all of the clueless guys out there, here are Neko's Tips on what NOT to do when looking for women.
When posting personal ads:
- DO NOT post a picture of your cock. Most of us girls don't enjoy being flashed by strangers.
~ If you act like you're too good for most of the girls out there, most of the girls won't respond.
- When posting your picture, don't use a scan of some Playgirl model - we can tell!
- If the first line in your ad is: "I love big tits!", even the girls with big tits will think you're an asshole.
When looking to hook up in a bar/club:
-The button up shirt / khaki cargo shorts combo is old, boring and rediculous. We actually make fun of guys like you. At least ACT like you have some style, you fucking lemming.
-You're 30 and you still wear a baseball cap everywhere? Here's the message that sends: you're either bald, immature, insecure or a combination of the three. Even if you're hair is all effed up, it's more attractive than that soiled baseball hat. (Unless you're at a baseball game) If you're losing your hair, it's respectable if you've got the balls to work the look. It's not like we wouldn't find out if you took us home.
-If you're so wasted you can't even stand or pronounce your own name...not a good time to hit on chicks. That would be a good time to call a cab.
-Buy us a drink. If we're at a bar, we always want free drinks (why do you think they invented "ladies night"?). It also shows that you're not a stingy bastard.
When posting personal ads:
- DO NOT post a picture of your cock. Most of us girls don't enjoy being flashed by strangers.
~ If you act like you're too good for most of the girls out there, most of the girls won't respond.
- When posting your picture, don't use a scan of some Playgirl model - we can tell!
- If the first line in your ad is: "I love big tits!", even the girls with big tits will think you're an asshole.
When looking to hook up in a bar/club:
-The button up shirt / khaki cargo shorts combo is old, boring and rediculous. We actually make fun of guys like you. At least ACT like you have some style, you fucking lemming.
-You're 30 and you still wear a baseball cap everywhere? Here's the message that sends: you're either bald, immature, insecure or a combination of the three. Even if you're hair is all effed up, it's more attractive than that soiled baseball hat. (Unless you're at a baseball game) If you're losing your hair, it's respectable if you've got the balls to work the look. It's not like we wouldn't find out if you took us home.
-If you're so wasted you can't even stand or pronounce your own name...not a good time to hit on chicks. That would be a good time to call a cab.
-Buy us a drink. If we're at a bar, we always want free drinks (why do you think they invented "ladies night"?). It also shows that you're not a stingy bastard.
6.17.2007
Well That Went to Hell Quickly
I have actually >gasp< posted a new review up at Neko Goes To The Movies. Holy shit people.
6.14.2007
Who The Hell's Gonna Eat That?
Holy crap people! This is the coolest recipe I've seen in ages.
I dare you to make it - I DOUBLE DOG dare you!!
I dare you to make it - I DOUBLE DOG dare you!!
Why The Hell Not?
So, last night went okay. I do still have a few suspicions, but found the experience agreeable for the most part. The food at Earl's was really good. I wonder what their other vegetarian option tastes like. I made sure to order the most expensive drink I could get away with. Neko loves her vodka martinis. I didn't see the guy's car, but he said it's a blue Honda convertable.
Today at lunchtime, we are meeting again. This time, it will be at a coffee shop on Curtis, where it crosses the mall. We are going to go to his office after coffee, which he says is a couple of blocks away. So, we'll see how it goes. If I don't come back from lunch, someone here will notice and freak out. Like I said before, nothing should go wrong, but you never know.
In even stranger news, my cousin called me last night from NYC. He says that he's moving to my city in a couple of weeks. My cousin's behavior and lifestyle is somewhat erratic in the first place, so I never know if his plans will come to fruition or if he will go in another direction. But, he says that he's coming here to live with a friend and get help. He asked if it was okay. I told him that I would love to have him live here! The two of us are very close - despite the actual physical distance. I think we are two halves of the same soul (if you believe in that sort of thing). Anyway, it will be good for him to get out of the city and get the help he needs. It will be good for me to have him around.
Today at lunchtime, we are meeting again. This time, it will be at a coffee shop on Curtis, where it crosses the mall. We are going to go to his office after coffee, which he says is a couple of blocks away. So, we'll see how it goes. If I don't come back from lunch, someone here will notice and freak out. Like I said before, nothing should go wrong, but you never know.
In even stranger news, my cousin called me last night from NYC. He says that he's moving to my city in a couple of weeks. My cousin's behavior and lifestyle is somewhat erratic in the first place, so I never know if his plans will come to fruition or if he will go in another direction. But, he says that he's coming here to live with a friend and get help. He asked if it was okay. I told him that I would love to have him live here! The two of us are very close - despite the actual physical distance. I think we are two halves of the same soul (if you believe in that sort of thing). Anyway, it will be good for him to get out of the city and get the help he needs. It will be good for me to have him around.
6.13.2007
Meet Me In Hell
Remember my post about needing a breathalizer on my home computer?
Well, my latest kick is getting wasted and answering personal ads online. What a retard I am. I answer all kinds: men seeking women, women seeing women, "no strings attached", the list goes on. I even puruse the "missed connections" section in hopes that somehow there will be something in there for me.
Tonight I'm going to meet someone. His name is Tom. We are meeting at Earl's restaurant in the Park Meadows Mall. He says he lives about 7 minutes away from that location. He also said that he drives a convertable, but I don't intend to get into it. So, here's the deal. I'm going to post his license plate (given the opportunity) to Neko A Go Go via my cell phone tonight. If I don't post later, saying that I'm okay, then there's something up and I've been abducted, killed, whatever. In other words, "not okay". I don't have any reason to believe that there will be a problem, I'm just covering my ass, just in case. If, by noon tomorrow, I'm nowhere to be found (not at work, not answering my phone) then check the mobile blog. If there's nothing on mobile blog - worry!
Well, my latest kick is getting wasted and answering personal ads online. What a retard I am. I answer all kinds: men seeking women, women seeing women, "no strings attached", the list goes on. I even puruse the "missed connections" section in hopes that somehow there will be something in there for me.
Tonight I'm going to meet someone. His name is Tom. We are meeting at Earl's restaurant in the Park Meadows Mall. He says he lives about 7 minutes away from that location. He also said that he drives a convertable, but I don't intend to get into it. So, here's the deal. I'm going to post his license plate (given the opportunity) to Neko A Go Go via my cell phone tonight. If I don't post later, saying that I'm okay, then there's something up and I've been abducted, killed, whatever. In other words, "not okay". I don't have any reason to believe that there will be a problem, I'm just covering my ass, just in case. If, by noon tomorrow, I'm nowhere to be found (not at work, not answering my phone) then check the mobile blog. If there's nothing on mobile blog - worry!
6.11.2007
It's 11:28 p.m. In Hell
My confession?
I am...so...incredibly...lonely.
And I have been. For a long time. And I will be. For a long time.
I am...so...incredibly...lonely.
And I have been. For a long time. And I will be. For a long time.
A Little Hell In The Alley
I want someone to take me into an alley,
kneel me down,
put a gun to my head,
and blow my brains out through my face.
Yes, that would be lovely.
kneel me down,
put a gun to my head,
and blow my brains out through my face.
Yes, that would be lovely.
I Should Be In Hell
I should go ahead and kill myself now, before I get my meds refilled. I'm only mad at my brother because he beat me to it, and I've been trying for longer.
6.06.2007
My Family Is From Hell
I've always hated the bullshit between my father and my mother. Ever since I was little, I can remember them not getting along. It's not that they yelled at each other or that one was physically abusive to another. I remember once, distinctly, my father had tried the pick out the perfect necklaces. One of them was silver strands with turquoise beads. He had bought them for their anniversary, wrapped up nicely. I was still in elementary school (so you know, that was a long time ago). She was standing in the kitchen, at the sink, probably smoking a cigarette. My father came up behind her to give her a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, she shrugged him off. She never opened the presents he gave her. Later, I opened them and they became mine. Later still, they were lost in "The Great Tragedy of San Diego". But the reason I remember so distinctly this moment, is that I felt deeply hurt by my mother's actions. Here he had tried so hard to find something nice for her, and she didn't even open the gift wrap.
Flash forward to the present date. Now that my brother is gone, they're still fighting over stupid shit. Number one gripe on the list is the lack of compromise on a resting spot for my brother's remains. I want to be able to visit him on his birthday, which is the 16th of this month. Every place my dad and I like, my mom hates. Every place that we hate, she seems to favor. It's petty and it's stupid and I'm pissed off because I'm caught in the middle.
I was always caught in the middle. When my mom was having her affair, she used to make me cover for her. She and my father both were pissed off at me when I accidentally spilled the beans and told my dad that we were living with the asshole she now calls "husband".
Tonight, my mother came to the house to look through my brother's things. She callously pointed out, "This is mine, and that is mine..and that lamp belongs to me." On the way out the door, she took a rust colored, knit blanket that has been in this house for over 10 years. It's my cat Toby's favorite blanket, because he thinks he's a ninja when he sits on it. We've been using it to cover up during winter movie nights for years. So, my mother comes along and claims that it's a blanket her friend made for her way back when. I tried to coax her into leaving it where it was.
As she scrambled out the door, my father caught sight of it. He looked at me with a question mark on his face. Now, he's so outraged that she took that blanket that he couldn't even dial the phone to call my grandmother and confirm that it was her creation. He's pissed. He's swearing. And that old, ancient guilt creeps up inside me. "I tried to convince her to leave it" I pleaded with my dad. He rants about how he never should have taken his eyes off of her and how isn't it just like the bitch? I knew there would be conflict the minute she stepped in the door with her second husband and her grandchild right behind her.
I'm pissed at my mother. Her husband and grandchild have no business being in this house. She had no business trying to collect dusty and imagined debts. My father let her in here in good faith and she betrayed it. Just like when he tried to give her that jewelry she never opened.
I'm pissed at my father too. It's a blanket. Sure, it's one we all liked and one my grandmother probably did make. But, it's a blanket nonetheless. It certainly isn't something to give yourself a coronary over. Fucking parents. When this thing with my brother's ashes is over, I hope they never speak to each other again. Hell, the way things are going, I might move out and not speak to either of them myself.
I'm so damn sick of this shit.
Flash forward to the present date. Now that my brother is gone, they're still fighting over stupid shit. Number one gripe on the list is the lack of compromise on a resting spot for my brother's remains. I want to be able to visit him on his birthday, which is the 16th of this month. Every place my dad and I like, my mom hates. Every place that we hate, she seems to favor. It's petty and it's stupid and I'm pissed off because I'm caught in the middle.
I was always caught in the middle. When my mom was having her affair, she used to make me cover for her. She and my father both were pissed off at me when I accidentally spilled the beans and told my dad that we were living with the asshole she now calls "husband".
Tonight, my mother came to the house to look through my brother's things. She callously pointed out, "This is mine, and that is mine..and that lamp belongs to me." On the way out the door, she took a rust colored, knit blanket that has been in this house for over 10 years. It's my cat Toby's favorite blanket, because he thinks he's a ninja when he sits on it. We've been using it to cover up during winter movie nights for years. So, my mother comes along and claims that it's a blanket her friend made for her way back when. I tried to coax her into leaving it where it was.
As she scrambled out the door, my father caught sight of it. He looked at me with a question mark on his face. Now, he's so outraged that she took that blanket that he couldn't even dial the phone to call my grandmother and confirm that it was her creation. He's pissed. He's swearing. And that old, ancient guilt creeps up inside me. "I tried to convince her to leave it" I pleaded with my dad. He rants about how he never should have taken his eyes off of her and how isn't it just like the bitch? I knew there would be conflict the minute she stepped in the door with her second husband and her grandchild right behind her.
I'm pissed at my mother. Her husband and grandchild have no business being in this house. She had no business trying to collect dusty and imagined debts. My father let her in here in good faith and she betrayed it. Just like when he tried to give her that jewelry she never opened.
I'm pissed at my father too. It's a blanket. Sure, it's one we all liked and one my grandmother probably did make. But, it's a blanket nonetheless. It certainly isn't something to give yourself a coronary over. Fucking parents. When this thing with my brother's ashes is over, I hope they never speak to each other again. Hell, the way things are going, I might move out and not speak to either of them myself.
I'm so damn sick of this shit.
5.28.2007
Does Hell Mean Anything?
So what does it all mean?
I went to the crash site today. There were bits and pieces of the vehicle everywhere. Little tiny shreds of something tragic happening. But, what does it mean that I found a scrap of the auto with my initials drawn on it? What the fuck?
Why do I keep seeing my brother's birthday everywhere? It was on an episode of Ugly Betty. It was a time stamp on one of the crime show episodes. The pint of half and half in the fridge expires on my brother's birthday. What the fuck does that mean?
Am I just seeing all of these things because he's dead? Where they there before, but I never would have noticed? I don't believe in Heaven. I don't believe in Hell. I don't believe in God or Satan. Although I have a preoccupation with the pop culture depictions of the devil, I have no actual belief that such a character exists. In fact, I believe strongly that they don't.
However, I do believe in ghosts and a certain level of the supernatural. Contradictory? I don't think so. But, I don't want to get into my spiritual debate just yet. One thing I do believe strongly in is coinsidence. Everything happens because of something else, and maybe if I was acute enough, I could sense the pattern.
So, I feel that the piece of car crash that I picked up today on that road meant something. I just can't figure out what.
I went to the crash site today. There were bits and pieces of the vehicle everywhere. Little tiny shreds of something tragic happening. But, what does it mean that I found a scrap of the auto with my initials drawn on it? What the fuck?
Why do I keep seeing my brother's birthday everywhere? It was on an episode of Ugly Betty. It was a time stamp on one of the crime show episodes. The pint of half and half in the fridge expires on my brother's birthday. What the fuck does that mean?
Am I just seeing all of these things because he's dead? Where they there before, but I never would have noticed? I don't believe in Heaven. I don't believe in Hell. I don't believe in God or Satan. Although I have a preoccupation with the pop culture depictions of the devil, I have no actual belief that such a character exists. In fact, I believe strongly that they don't.
However, I do believe in ghosts and a certain level of the supernatural. Contradictory? I don't think so. But, I don't want to get into my spiritual debate just yet. One thing I do believe strongly in is coinsidence. Everything happens because of something else, and maybe if I was acute enough, I could sense the pattern.
So, I feel that the piece of car crash that I picked up today on that road meant something. I just can't figure out what.
5.27.2007
Another Good Man Goes to Hell
I know it's been a while since I posted. But, it's been hard times lately. My brother, who was only 17, was killed in a car crash on the 11th. I really loved him and it's really difficult to let him go. Sure, I bitched about him all the time, but that's because I loved him and I didn't want him to be a fuck up like my ex. Well, my ex can never hurt him now. He's free.
The funeral, the arrangements...the police reports, the newpaper....it's all so much to deal with at once. I'd be doing much better if everyone didn't keep fucking reminding me that my brother is dead. I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't want to hear, "I'm so sorry" again. Sure, I appreciate all the sympathy and condolences and everyone means well, but, just shut up for a moment. Let me breathe.
The funeral, the arrangements...the police reports, the newpaper....it's all so much to deal with at once. I'd be doing much better if everyone didn't keep fucking reminding me that my brother is dead. I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't want to hear, "I'm so sorry" again. Sure, I appreciate all the sympathy and condolences and everyone means well, but, just shut up for a moment. Let me breathe.
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