Tuesday, November 08, 2005

You're Civic Duty!!!!!!!!

Vote today!

It's what millions of people died for.

And alos, it's the only day you can get on the grounds of an elementary school without having to dress up as a food service worker ;)

Monday, October 10, 2005

A Well of My Own...

Holy moly, people. There's something so weird about paraylsis when it comes to this blog. I love NOTHING MORE than to connect with you guys. (Well, that's not true. I love doingthe tuck dance. I feel so pretty. I also really enjoy poking Catherine with a stick. And cooking a nice souffle.) But sometimes, somehow, I get into ruts where I can't bring myself to update. I look at my comments (even the weird SPAM ones and the strange people who can't figure out how not to triple-post!) and read all my favorite blogs and I think of entries to compose. Sometimes I even read them out loud to Catherine, but she always tells me I'm a shitty writer and I shoul quit and then I get really frantic like when everything is slowed down adn whirring really loud in my ears like an ocean and I start screaming and pulling my shirt out like I have boobs and then Precious starts barking adn Catherine starts screaming and oh boy! Must we three be a sight. I call these tantrums my Googlies. Whenever I feel a Googly coming on, I try to lock myself in the closet because I don't want to hurt Catherine or Precious or myself, but sometimes it's impossible. That bitch does it on purpose, too. I know she does. Christ, who am I kidding? I'll never kill Catherine. I'm a failure. But I ACCEPT that :)

OOh, speaking of Christ. I saw the best movie on Netflix. The Passion of the Christ! So gory and really kind of sexy. That Jim guy with the name I can't spell is dishy. And he sure knows how to take a flogging. Catherine could learn sommethign from him.


But aside from the weird paraloysis thing, the real reason I haven't written is that... Me and Catherine have been searching for a new house to buy!

I know.

IJ know.

Well, Catherine hasn't really been looking, but I have to admit it that she's coming with me. So it's like we're looking together. Alos, I've been telling allt he real estate people that I have a wife named Catherine. Makes me a better candidate. Gosh, you should see me. It's really funny. I get all butched up. I wear a suit and take out my earrings and make-up. I even untuck and sometimes put a sock in there so I'm real hung! (It makes me feel like that guy from Led Zeeplin! "Been a long time since I rock and rolled. Hoo-way!")

Now that I've done it twice (but it's been a LONG Time since teh first time and I was SUCH a different man. No, literally.) Let me tell you soemthing about house hunting. It is not easy to find something. But for me, it's triply hard, because not only do I Have a dog. But I need a place with a basement not directly built into granite, because I need to DIG the WELL. I must have spent 8 weekends in a row goingto open houses. The free cookies the real estate people always cook to make the houses more homey-feeling were starting to SHOW ON MY HIPS, too! Let me tell you. (There was one particularly real estate agent who makes the BEST oatmeal-molasses cookies [no, i will NOT tell you who it is, FBI-holes. YOu can't fool me that easily, so don't even try to email me and find out!!!]. I used to go to her open houses just to eat a few, but eventually she caught on and stopped letting me in. (I'm going to find that bitch and force feed her her own cookies until she explodes! I'll do it too. I'm just that mad.)

But why are you so mad, Jame? You might ask...


I finally found a house!!! It was the cutest little thing with white shutters perfect for peering with my NIGHT VISION GOGGLES out of, and a great litle backyard with a koi pond! plus there was the best basement witht he softest foundation. I swear I could have hired a handful of those Mexican cuties from outsid e the HOME DEPOT and have Catherine's new home dug and rock-lined in two weeks!

My agent showed me the place ("No, Catherine is at her book club and can't come today either. Shoot." Hee hee.) on a Monday, the day it went on the market. The couple was great nad I shook hands with the husband forcefully, pretending I was gripping my DEATH STICK in pprepartation for a flaying, and I even talked about baseball game scores for our local team (shut up, FBI. I could be talking about a minor league OR major league team!!! Face!) that I had boned up on. The house took my breath away. I went home and immediately sat down and wrote the most heartfelt letter I could. I talke dabout how my wife and I were planning on having a baby and we would have loved NOTHING MORE than to raise our children in that house that the y had so lovingly made bueatiful during their time there. And then I wrote my bid on the bottom of the paper. It was 5,000 dollars OVER their asking price. I wrote my bicycle over and dropped it into the mailbox.

Well, woudln't you know, sometimes, dear readers, taking the BULL BY THE HORNS works! Because the next day, my agent called me and said that they had accepted my offer! They weren't even going to wait until teh open house. It was mine. I was SOOOOOOOOOO happy. I even bought a cake at the store (vanilla with strawberries, yum!) and bucketed some down to Catherine (not like she needs it, ha ha. She's fat.) and watched my DVD of Season Five of Buffy and was SOOOOOO happy.

The escrow period started (what is Escrow? I'm STILL not sure! Ha) and I had begun the long process of packing things up and taking things to Good will. I even had a garage sale where I netted 600 dolalrs! (I sold a Constance McMiller skin purse for 5 dollars! Sad to see it go but as a book I read said, "Clutter of the House is Clutter of the Mind!")

We were a week away from the end of the escrow period and I'd designed the interior f my new house on paper with samples and paint chips pasted on, like a big beatufiul collage. My house was going to so beautfiul. And it was going to be MINE!!!

And then I got a call from my agent. The couple was pulling out. They'd decided they loved the house too much to leave and that was that.

If I told you I lay in bed for five days straight would you believe me?

Well, you shouldn't, because it's been eight days. And I'm still lying in bed. (Laptops are amazing things.) Catherine is very very hungry so I suppose I'll have to get up to feed her soon (Precious has a Sharper IMage time-release food feeder I bought her for Yom Kippur last year. Oh yeah, Precious is jewish. Don't know why but I thought it would be funny to make her jewish!). But when, when will the pain end?!

I guess it's a good sign that I decide to blog, and that I've been having a lot of fantasties about killing the couple with a chain saw (not my usual M.O.!), but I'm still beyond depressed.

So, tkae it from me, people. House hunting is hell.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

my skin is melting

oh dear god in all that is holy and all the religions that won't accept me for who i truly am i just have to say can it get any motherfucking HOTTER IN THIS BITCH?

the sun is trying to be my boyfriend. the sun will not get off my ass, my face, my hair. i have hot hair and it is not a good time. i got stuck in traffic the other day on my bike (THANKS, DMV, for NOTHING.) and everybody was honking at me and catcalling ("Nice skirt, asshole!" I can HEAR you, you know, when you shout. I can hear you with my HEART.). And I'm only so strong, so I did what I always do.

I allowed one tear. And it burned my skin. My tears were made out of sunbeams, which only sounds pretty until you put sun on your face, because the sun is the HOTTEST THING IN THE WORLD AND IS CURRENTLY STALKING ME.

Every morning, it's back again, chasing me around the house from one end to the other. i try to stay in the shade becasue i hate it when my makeup runs, but there it is again, chasing me.

i've been thinking a lot about blogging, relationships, my garden (my dead, dead, dead garden. deader than the girl in my well. KIDDING! Catherine says hi, and that she loved the ladyfinger recipie one of you sent in).

how will we take blogging to the next level? i am a serial killer (allegedly), so i like pushing buttons, getting intimate with someone who'd like nothing to do with me, forcing myself on complete strangers, ripping their skin off with sewing tools, buring their discarded limbs and wearing their hair as a knit bikini. That's just me. I know who I am and I'm comfortable with it. But now that we have this communication thing going, you and i, with my blog and your eyeballs (which are completely useless to me, by the way. fuck your eyeballs. they roll all over the place and creep me out. UGH! Why do they have to be so round and stare-y?).

what the fuck was i talking about?

WHAT IS IT SO GOD DAMN HOT? I can't even eat anything because the thought of turning on a stove or an oven makes me puke. Even the microwave feels like it's cooking my balls. My girl balls. Jesus. I just told you about my girl balls, which I swore I'd never do but it's so fucking hot that I can't take it anymore. Do you know there are ants all over my house? Ants! And they crawl on me in my sleep, I just know it. I woke up the other morning because THE SUN was FUCKING ME IN THE ASS and there was a dead ant in my eye goo, in the corner of my eye.

It's one thing to be so hot there's sweat inside my ears. It's another thing entirely to know that ants were trying to tuck themselves into your eyelids while you were sleeping. I mean, can my life BE any grosser???/

ants and this stupid blog that i think about all the time because when i don't update you guys think:

1. I'm ignoring you.
2. I'm outside your window about to kill you.

And the truth is i think i'm losing my mind because the heat has boiled it in a way i'll never recover from.

girl balls
they are small
and pretty in pink
like molly ringwald
but so much better
like her lips
and that sneer she gives so well
like scarlett johannnseesnn
and that shot of her ass
at the beginning of lost in translation
girl balls
keep your secrets
they hide away
when everyone's looking
but come out
just for you
and say

I'm in such a mood.
I'm thinking about going back to school. I don't know what for. Maybe I'll be a DJ. Oh, man. I'd be a sweet DJ! I'd call myself DJ Skin Rip.

Except all of my equipment wouuld melt. MELT. in this HEAT.

do you ever sometimes think this is all bullshit and you and i never existed and we're all a fabrication of one speck of dirt in the eye goo of a careless man who forgot to put us away when he was done and now we're all mutations of this perfection we'll never achieve because there's no hope for any of us anymore? we're just going to fling ourselves at each other until we can't breathe anymore and our hearts explode in our chest.

why do you play
with my heart?
When I wish
to hear the perfect song
for this perfect moment
when i'm being so awesomely profound
why do you play
Joss Stone?

currently reading: HOW TO KILL YOURSELF BECAUSE IT'S SO FUCKING HOT. (It's a work in progress)

Saturday, June 11, 2005

Summertime BLues

Sorry everybody. I didn't mean to worry you guys. I'm fine. Precious is fine -- she got a new haircut and looks so kute! Even Catherine is fine. I bought her a pretty summer dress from a thrift store, but she said that thrift clothes smell like poor people and she is a Senator's daughter and is used to only the finest. But then she did put it on and I caught her twirling around singing, "I Feel Pretty!" I really think bitch is starting to lose it.

I've been great. It relaly seems like the last month has been a flurry of celebrity news, worrying so much about Michael Jacksonn and poor Katie Holmes (as much of a captive as Catherine, these days!) and La Lohan, that I'm barely paying attention to my job or my real work or eluding the FBI. Although my kneecap clutch purse is coming along nicely :)

I just wanted to pop in and leteveryone know I'm OK. Me and Precious are off to see MR. and MRS> SMITH! It opened last night and I'm just dying to see if the fireworks off screen made it to the big screen. I certainly hope so. I know everyone speaks of Spring Fever but I've got the ants in the pants big time. I need a MAN! (Leave your email on my comments section if yu're interested! I'm a great cook and REALLY open to trying new things.)

Create a Cool Day!

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

"Flesh chunks found in Iowa water lines"


CARROLL, Iowa (AP) - City officials are perplexed over the discovery of mysterious chunks of flesh that have been clogging up city water lines. A month ago, city officials sent a hunk of meaty-fatty tissue to the Iowa Department of Natural Resources for identification.

Lesson: If you're going to make Chinese Children Salad, and you accidentally cook too much of the first ingredient, the garbage disposal doesn't work as good as you think it would.

Lesson learned. Sorry, Iowa. Last time I try to have a dinner party. God. I can't do anything wright. I thought it'd be nice to have some people over. Catherine's been working on her solo album, and I think she needs some feedback from someone other than me (she thinks I'm too critical. I'm SORRY if I have an OPINION.)

But this guest is allergic to onions, and that guest is allergic to shellfish, and this other one doesn't like wheat and I'm like, "You all get people. Deal with it." My house, my rules.

I mean, come on. I don't go to your house and complain that your pillowcases aren't made of woven cheerleader hair (oh, soooooo good.) No, I don't. I bring my own pillow. If you have such picky needs, BRING YOUR OWN FOOD.


[thankxxs to Stacy for the link. I'll have to go "visit" her now, as she thinks she's figured out where I live.]

Monday, April 25, 2005

Silicone Breasts - Transvestite Transformation (NSFW!!!!! :) )

Anyone want to loan me somemoney?

Monday, April 18, 2005

God I'm Pretty!!!

Who wouldn't fuck me?