Saturday, 21st July 2001
07.21.01 to 06.23.01 (Really Old Rants!)
Dear Person That Comes Here A Lot,
Am I alone here..?
Last night I was at a club and I saw these two guys talking to each other in sign language, so I surmised that they were deaf. I was watching them for a while and then all of a sudden something struck me as very funny about it…
I am not saying that deaf people don’t enjoy beer, or picking up people, or being in a social situation, but I am saying that deaf people don’t enjoy music…
Well am I..?
NotVeryPCOfMeWasIt, Sorry PM
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Dear Person That Comes Here A Lot,
day I have decided that I am a peep show and anyone that looks at me has to pay me 50 cents. It would be a dollar but I only have a minimal amount of flesh showing. Luckily for you Oh Beloved Person Who Comes Here A Lot, it only counts if you look at my being. I’ve made a dollar already off Wreckk and Brian but Dan, the tight bastard, is refusing to pay up…
I have also finally settled on a new layout that I like. I shall be using it soon…
Bye Bye duckie, you are the greatest…
Only$1.75For2EggsHomeFriesAndToast, Bargain AM
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Dear Person That Comes Here A Lot,
Can you believe that I bumped into Hair Boy and Orange Boy last night at the bar? And what is even funnier is that Hair Boy still wants to kick it to me, (well that is unless my senses are off, which they invariably are, but lets say he wants to kick it to me so that I can say..), he must be a masochist or something! The last time I heard from him was when he was laying in my bed and I said, “When the revolution comes I don’t know who to kill first. You, me or my parents.” Scared the shit outta the little bugger…
Another Cuntastic thing is that I have found 3 willing, (or so they say), young men to found my Puerto Rican plus one commune with. Ruben shall be my Baby Mamma, Juan my Baby Daddy, Wreckk my Baby Daddy-Mamma and I shall be the Mamma-Daddy of them all! Tis a wonderful world I tell you…
And for a cunting nerd life I have been hacking and cracking today. I now feel like a real nerd as opposed to the fledgling, aspiring nerd I have been…
Do you know what it feels like to run screaming into pink..?
Okay Beloved Regular Visitor of Mine, I am off…
IGotLoadsOfBogiesInMyNose, DigDeeper PM
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Dear Person That Comes Here A Lot,
I don’t know who you are but you seem to come here every day. It is therefore you which I write for now. Do you live in California..? Would you like to run away to a mountain top with me..? Are you my biological guilt laden millionaire parents..? Do I know you..?
So that is the preliminaries over with. I would also like to apolgise for being slack on my updates of late. I have been playing with Dreamweaver and trying to redesign my site and becoming very frustrated with myself. Unfortunately these kinds of things require a direct link with the left side of the brain. I need to be buddies with logic and unfortunately I am curving around a waterfall of blood and nothing linear is understandable to me…
Anyway, back to you, obviously you must be some perverted person with a penchant for reading the innane ramblings of a 26 year old Woman and so for that you get 10 gazillion cool points. You get another 23 million cool points if you can sing along to the Coldplay album. You get another 50 if we have never met, because that way there will be nothing about you that iritates me…
Could I call you duckie..? Could I catch your voice in a net..? Could you massage my feet on a daily basis..? Just wondering…
I am dedicating my life this week to you, Oh-Person-That-Comes-Here-A-Lot. You are my favourist favourite in the Cuntiverse.
Okay bye-bye, I Love You in the sense that I Love Humanity when it is not frustrating the Cunt out of me.
SpiesCameOutOfTheWater, Yellow PM
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It has also suddenly occured to me that none of what I put up here is probably of any interest to anyone except myself and the few friends that actually come here…
So I have finally understood what was making me such a miserable bitch. Boredom. Boredom beyond put-on-a-happy-face belief. My environment and life has become known, there is no sense of adventure for me anymore. I need to find new blood like the life vampire I am. I need to be a cliff and life be the ocean tearing away pieces of me, clawing at me, making me fight to maintain my grip. Instead I live within a wildlife protection center. Nothing challenges me, forces me to reinforce my meaning. I just boringly float on wave after wave of approximations…
Now I just need to find that life that is the ocean. I need the abyss of emotion. I need something, someplace new…
YayEpiphaniesAreGreat, SeaBreezePlease PM
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It has occured to me that probably the only people interested in the exploits and eating habits of my cats called fucking weird and weirder, is me and the persons that bequeathed them to me. So I shall try to refrain from constantly updating about my familiars in fear of this place becoming the regular cyber reading place for 90 year old spinsters with 9 million cats. Mind you, they need a cyber home too cunt love it. Hey Grannie, do you love your old cunt..?
Quote of the Moment:
“If there were a man who dared to say all that he thought of this world there would not be left him a square foot of ground to stand on. When a man appears the world bears down on him and breaks his back. There are always too many rotton pillars left standing, too much festering humanity for man to bloom. The superstructure is a lie and the foundation is a huge quaking fear. If at intervals of centuries there does appear a man with a desperate, hungry look in his eyes, a man who would turn the world upside down in order to create a new race, the love that he brings to the world is turned to bile and he becomes a scourge. If now and then we encounter pages that explode, pages that wound and sear, that wring groans and tears and curses, know that they come from a man with his back up, a man whose only defenses left are his words and his words are always much stronger than the lying, crushing weight of the world, stronger than all the racks and wheels which the cowardly invent to crush out the miracle of personality. If any man ever dared to translate all that is in his heart, to put down what is really his experience, what is truly his truth, I think then the world would go to smash, that it would be blown to smithereens and no god, no accident, no will could ever again assemble the pieces, the atoms, the indestructible elements that have gone to make up the world.”
Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer
And of course we know that the only man that would dare to speak his truth and have strength enough to bear the ramifications, is a Woman…
IwasGoingToSayMoreButIForgotWhat, Hungry PM
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I live in a bizarro world update:
Nimbus is now eating Marmite on toast and Naima is eating the National Geographic. The Marmite on toast phenomenon is particularly interesting as most humans won’t even eat Marmite. To quote Matty Boy Wonder, “That is surprising, as I would eat cat food before I ate Marmite.”
ItJustKeepsOnKeepingOn, SecretlyIAmHappy PM
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When I was a kid I had a hampster named Harris. He was a strange little runt and I loved him madly. I used to put him in my pocket and walk around the house with him so he got a good view of that small part of the world. For some reason he would only eat tofu and fresh salad vegetables and perhaps the typical sunflower seeds that hampsters seem so to adore. Anyhow, I have a feeling the diet eventually killed him as at about age 3 he went bald and scabby and one day, as I held the little fellow in my hands, he yawned a great sadness, piss and shat and then died. Needless to say, I was mortified, and not because of the defecation in my small, childish hands. It happened to be winter at the time and so I couldn’t have a funeral right away for him as the earth was to hard to dig. So I put him in the freezer until spring…
I bring this up as my cat, Nimbus, has taken a sudden penchant to soy cheese and chilli-lime tortilla chips. Quite frankly, I am a trifle worried…
HenryMillerLivedInMyLogCabin, WeardTingsAGwon PM
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Questions of the moment:
What is my purpose? Do I even have one, or is thinking I do a delusion of grandure? If we do have a purpose is it an individual thing or a collective one..?
What is meaningful for me..? If I find that which is meaningful will I find my purpose..?
Have I always had this fear of commitment..?
Who would take as good care of my children as I do?
Should I attempt to reconstruct it or leave it as the damaged and dwarfed thing it is..?
Why am I so stupid?
Why am I unable to see myself objectively..?
Why is my womb aching?
How can I become Dr. Tank Doolittle? Does Eddie Murphy know how much I envy him?
Is it wrong to feel happy that it is over?
Why do I always remember the most important things after I hang up the phone?
If you have any answers, feel free to email me.
I’mPuttingMeBackDown, IOnlyEverPlayWithTheIdea PM
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You may or may not have noticed that it is a source of endless amusement to me to find out precisely where peoples limits are. Having said that, I think I have found one of my own…
Last night this guy was talking to me, (read: attempting to kick it to me), and the bartender walked past me and asked me what I wanted to drink. He wanted to know what you have to do to get the bartender to go out of their way to ask you what you want. I replied that I just happen to drink a lot and therefore be on first name terms with most of the bartenders in Philadelphia. I am, quite frankly, a successful drunk. He then said, “What like so drunk you shit a condom?” Ummm, that was a little too much for me…
So I look at him all crazy and ask him what the kerfuck he meant and he says he means so drunk you get taken advantage of. Ummm, okay. At that point I figured it be wiser to walk away fast.
At moments like those I am glad that I once had aspirations to be an olympic speed walker…
WhatWomanFuckThatPersonWouldBeAttractedToThat?, Weard PM
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I have heard of cats eating grass, but how deranged is a cat that eats paper..?
I know men have problems in thinking without involving their little head, but why the kerfuck did they all have to say dumb, sexual shit when I was walking home with a cat scratching post under my arm..?
CuntHelpThemNow, Shredded PM
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I have had a couple of epiphanies of late. The first is short and sweet and is thus: I am always right until I am proved wrong.
I came to this conclusion because it has been brought to my attention of late that a lot of people are offended by my stong convictions and opinions. I had planned on being mute as a form of holistic healing but when I mentioned this to a beautiful person he said that wasn’t necessarily needed. All that I need to do is be careful of those I bring close. So I was thinking more about my opinions and that perhaps it was wrong to believe so strongly, to have so much passion. After attacking myself as other people, I decided that it wasn’t and that I was justified to believe strongly and that I shouldn’t allow other peoples incongruous apathy to devaluate myself. In order to believe in something, you have to believe it is right and consequentially you for believing in it. So until you can prove otherwise, I am right.
The second is that America is one huge prison.
This came in a searing flash today when I learnt that it is costing my friend $95 to get a passport. Essentially they are dissuading you from leaving this country. When my parents were here they commented on how the news here was simply that. News about here, America. In engerland news is world news and so in contrast one is given a greater understanding of the world at large. (Now I *am* aware that the media in general is full of crapola, but at least engerlish news reminds you that you are not the only country in existence.) By leaving the masses uninformed of the rest of the globe, they, by default, leave us ignorant of anything other than the way it is here. Immigration laws here also substantiate this claim in that it is very hard for someone to enter ths country, let alone emmigrate here. Why do you have to give your thumb prints when cashing cheques? Why is there such a thing as Postal Police? Just try looking at the American world as a prison system and you will see that there is no reason to be a ‘law abiding citizen’, since one is already in prison…
YesIKnowIAmAmericaBashingLately, ProbablyTimeThen PM
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I accidentally tripped over a worm hole that had bizarely manifested itself in my front room today and fell into the on button on the TV. Then this giant lizard who said it’s name was Imelda pinned me down and made me watch the TV for 3 minutes. In that time period I saw this band called Dream Street and I thought to myself that they were far too young to be singing “Ohh baby I know you want me”, (or whatever the fizuck they said), and to be attempting to look sexy and stuff. There was no way, in my mind, that a single one of them was over 9, definitely nowhere near pubity. So after Imelda let me go I went onto the net to see how old they were - 14 to 16. That’s scarey to me, I mean, I am really not that much older than them and yet they looked and seemed like children. I think of myself as maybe having something in common with a 16 year old. I think that maybe I am turning into an old fart. Next thing I know I will think mini skirts are risque or something…
So the paradox has been in full effect over the last couple of days. I am an evil whore, but luckily I am not. I broke a promise, but it turned out that I never promised it. I betrayed myself, then I found out that I wasn’t the person that could of been betrayed. All in all nothing has made sense because it always has…
EvenWhenYouMakeAPromiseForYouItCanStillChainYou, He’sGreat PM
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It’s been a long time I know, but the Old Biddies were here and so I have spent the last week playing tour guide for a city in which there is nothing much to do. What do I do..? Ummm, read copious amounts of books, play on Viola the Laptop and drink beer. Not particularly exciting and mostly solitary and that’s why I had so much trouble playing Entertainment Tank…
My latest whim is that I want to defect to the Czech Republic. I want the President, the amazing Vaclav Havel, to give me food and lodgings, (and maybe some beer and cigarette money), so that I can sit and listen to him think. Why? Here’s one of the reason’s why…
Failing that I want to go and live all by myself in a log cabin on the side of a mountain and farm the land and maybe some goats. I am feeling rather disillusioned with people at the moment…
Last night someone said to me that I was lovely girl until I opened my mouth. He wouldn’t say what he meant when I roared, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN??!!!” So I am thinking that either he is referring to my truckers mouth or my opinionated words. Personally I can’t see how someone would know whether or not I was nice *until* I opened my mouth…
I got hold of a whole bunch of nerd programs so when I have learnt how to use them expect a revamp of this site.
I have been playing DIY Tank again today. No screwing or banging this time, but painting and reconditioning. It has been fun and I have more paint on me than tattoo’s…
DidYouMissMe?, JaffaCakes PM