lOvelOvelOvelOve.
i recieved the most lovely letter today from the most lovely person. once upon a time. it made me cry, but they were good tears. then said lovely person said something that made me cry, and they were very good tears.
i want life to stay.
why does it end with an l?
aluvia.
at least she’s not dying.
i want things to work out in the middle for once.
i’ve fallen into the nineties!
but hey, at least i got my thunderbadge.
i blame stashia and olivia the mostest for this. though alexander cannot get off scot-free. but it’s mostly stashia’s fault- she’s my dealer.
:)
my new year has been pleasant. ushered it in with a non-bondage night. went over to stashia’s and ate a yummy dinner in which the courses were…
it were yummy, better than fast food which is what was for dinner at tenn’s house. people in attendance were
and woulda been geneva if geneva weren’t a bitch who decided not to come. (i know geneva. kidding.)
and so we played lots of egyptian rat screw and abalone and shit. && wesley stayed until six a.m. when everybody started to go to beds. && olivia destroyed wesley’s hand in ers.
mr. daniel craig totally fails as 007. he got better about halfway through, but he is still a disgrace to the name of bond.
‘course, i had a stellar time anyway, i went to see the movie with axel. we almost didn’t get to go ‘cos of the fucking rain but then his grandpa (who is awesome) picked me up.
kinda weird because my life has completed the cycle of friendships. when i was in seventh grade to eighth grade i had a friend named wayne who turned out to be not such a good friend, then ninth grade there was christian who also ended up not being such a good friend, and now it’s rolled around to axel.
i especially hope things don’t turn out the way they have in the past. stashia’s mentioned the biggest distinction- alexander is not an asshole. the continuity in my life astounds me. wayne IMed me after i haven’t spoken to him in forever, wishing me a merry belated christmas. fairly odd. it really doesn’t matter though, there’s nothing there anymore, he’s a past issue.
anyway i talked to alexander to five am this morning and yesterday morning (started talking about one am) and that’s pretty cool, because i really am not good on the phone.
however, i fucking missed olivia’s call, which pisses me off to no end. i hope she calls tonight (i can’t call her house because of weirdness && it’s late.)
oh & i totally re pierced my ears by myself.
has lost two knives to authority figures:
one steak knife to mr. veneral diseases
one butter knife to mr. security agent
tenn has a wonderful tsa agent story to tell later.
olivia is my very own cricket.
chirp chirp.
she gets off on watching animal planet.
she knows too much about female hyenas
and their pseudopenises.
the pseudopenises
that have to OPEN up
for the males to insert their not pseudopenises.
she also knows far too much about certain species of lizards.
with only female lizards.
“i think they have the sperm already in them, and they just hump eachother to get it going.”
did you know that anglerfish-
“the males, they’re really tiny, and they bite the female. and they become a part of her. like a limb. then the female can take sperm whenever she wants.”
“the only thing i haven’t seen mate is bats.”
“it was at the san diego zoo and we drove past the animal enclosure… and the giraffe, it just doesn’t look like it’d be out all the time, ‘cos it’s so freakishly red. the little kid said “mommy, what is that?”
“have you ever seen tasmanian devil nipples?”
“now WHALES. that’s hard to explain.”
dolphins, live? “they’re like whales.”
“oh… ants… army ants, they give birth to a male of course, and then the male leaves the nest and grows up. the male comes back to the females, – they move their nests- and the male comes back for some reason- and the females, they swarm over him and they bite his wings off, and they take him to the queen mates with him whenever she wants to.” … “and then he dies.”
HAREM. ARMY ANT HAREMS.
“pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicavolcanoconieosis.”
for everyone’s information, i am olivia’s little moncheche.
“you are my little moncheche.”
told’ja.
“did you know in the twenties, people wanted to be skinny. so they took pills. with hookworm eggs. tapeworms have the most sexual organs of any animal.”
i know a few farkers who would like to be tapeworms.
“monchechemoncheche!”
(olivia coos like a pigeon. a pigeon on speed.)
“mi lif is tormentid lest wood pleying made it strange wit an arwe kene.”
translation: my life hurts like crazy sex is difficult with a sharp arrow.
“monchechemoncheche!’
(olivia commences humming.)
“oh. daddy long legs aren’t the most poisonous spiders in the world, and they CAN bite you.”
after tenn googles this, she finds out that daddy long legs have penises.
“yes, they do.”
interviewphase:
if you could tell the people of the world one thing- or my blog- just one thing, what would you say?
“i don’t know. anyways. they caught a bunch of rattlesnakes. tons and tons- a literal ton, i think. and then they put them on- it’s like a, it reminds me of, it’s like a festival of sorts. and then they put them in cages and look at them. and during and after they kill them all. they turn them into stuff. jackets and boots. and then taxidermy, of course. and then some of them they skin alive and eat. it hurt.”
“heh heh… snake bile… heh heh.”
anything else i should put in your post?
“uh… uh… uh…”
is there a hole in your kn0ll?
“door. door in your kn0ll.”
i wanted to say hole.
“you have to say hole in your floor. otherwise it doesn’t work. … monchechemoncheche.”
is it five feet in diameter? with fire? and brimstone? and a stuffed bunny rabbit?
“indeed.”
and an olivia?
“possibly.” (commences humming.)
“if you ever find yourself in the amazon with a snake clamped on your head and winding around you, you can pour alcohol on it. and that can be rubbing alcohol, or whiskey, or beer. … and dead snakes are squishy.”
pffh. i’m missing out on significant amounts of sleep. i blame olivia.
i’m pretty sure i’m going with a dark reddish color. i saw a really pretty bright red, but somehow, i think it would hurt my life. (and ‘livia’s, i’m sure she’d scream every time she saw my hair.)
her and i were talking and it made me sad. we’re growing so old. i’m fifteen and what the hell have i done with my life, except screwed it up? i mean, i used to make wonderful grades. now there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell i’ll make valedictorian.
that’s alright though. i know now that all my looking forward to top twelve was ridiculous, just wanting it for the sake of having it. i’m going to make an effort to make the Naval Academy, and that’s my only goal. fuck meaningless high-school distinctions.
i’m looking forward to algebra ii a lot, though. i enjoy algebra.
history will be good. tech theatre… not so good, but i’ll deal with it. maybe i’ll do a last minute change to something else… i need to get an arts credit in. i wish the writing classes counted… i can write. i like to write. writing is a fine art. d’0h.
http://www.stargazer-products.com/
i just can’t decide. i’m not going to get high end dye i’m sure…
olivia says dark colors for me, or maybe pastel if i want to go light.
dark green, says she.
we’re going to go to target.
i think i’ll point her at the dye and tell her to choose for me.
she’s the colorone. i’m colorblind. i want to go hot pink. (when i have short hair, that is.)
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