Vomit on Paper
Yeah, I said it. Vomit. On PAPER. Ok, explaination deserved and is as follows:
I keep a journal. NOt just this ridiculous blogging thing here. No, this is an actual PAPER AND PEN journal. NOt that uncommon, not really (I don't think anyway:\) There is no layout. I just jot down random song lyrics, thoughts, feelings. IT's all in random order in odd places and angles on the paper. Doodles. Lots of doodles (that's all they could be considered, seeing as my artistic abilities in the drawing department are limited to stick figures). Lots of anger. Lots of worries. Lots of views on the world. No discernable order or dates, just random thoughts on paper. I've decided to name this dribble. And what, you ask, do you name a journal done in this format (or lack there of)?
Brain Vomit.
You heard it right. Brain vomit. I can't stop it once I start. It's all over the place and yet contained in one place. I feel better when I'm done.
Just like letting lose the contents of your stomach into Brother John.
Am I right or what?
Brain vomit. I love it. I believe it's what keeps me sane...in my little world at least;)
Amy found it the other day whilst being nosy in my work bag and was like WHAT THE FUCK is this? I proceeded to beat her to death with the metal spiral binding and then write about it. Quite the therapudic tool. In soooo many ways:P
Speaking of Tool...do I hear right? Tool. New Album? New Tour? ARRRRGGGHHHH! Say it ain't so! I might actually consider going to a show if they come to Fort Wayne. Wouldn't go as far as Indy (am saving that for NINs return in the summer...if it ever happens *hope pray wish*) but if they came to the Fort, I'd definately go. Dunno if I'd risk the floor for that one though. Rough crowd. I mean, the folk at the NIN show were fucking rough but Tool is a whole other animal. THese people are fucking nuts. I dunno. SOmething I might have to mull over for future refrence.
OOH and speaking of another tool...Why do people have to be such tools when they order food. My latest work rant:
So I took this cunts order which was like pulling teeth. She said she wanted the special for 3 mediums for $9.99. I tell her, well, it's actually 3 small one topping pizzas for 9.99 or you can make it mediums for $15. She says to me (all shitty even) I'm sitting here looking at the paper. It says 3 mediums for 9.99. THere is nothing about smalls. So I tell her, yeah, I'm looking at the paper too and it says in the upper left corner it's the 3 smalls for 9.99 and if she looked at the BIG YELLOW circle in the middle, it says, 3 mediums for 15. She proceeds to tell me that she's not going to argue with me and that she knows how to read but WHATEVER (in that super snotty tone...you know the one I'm talking about...grrr) we'll do it your way.
FUCK YOU CUNT!!!!!
Ok, so I take her order and I'm getting her info:
Me:Phone number please?
Dumb Cunt: It's Courier [a local factory]. Dont' you know the number.
Me: That's ok. Last name please.
DC: It's TARA.
Me: Tara? Ok, so...
DC: Yeah, TARA. I'm the only Tara that works here. They'll find me.
Me: Ok, department?
[backstory: a supervisor from this place told me to get the name of the department people work in so that it is easier to find them when we get there...so that's what I do]
DC: *annoyed sigh/groan sound* It's TARA! I'm in the bindery but I'm the ONLY Tara that works here. They KNOW who I am. God!
Me: Sorry bout that but the supervisors have asked that we get everyones department so they are easier to find.
DC: Like I said...
me: *cutting her off* Yeah, I know. You're the ONLY Tara that works there. Your total for deliver is....
WHAT THE BLOODY BLUE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM PEOPLE?!?!?!? Honestly, if I"m wrong about a coupon or total or something, I admitt it. If I'm right though, back the fuck off. Seriously...kinda territorial about it all. Anyway, I guess even the people she works with think she's a total fuck wit. Glad to know my initial thoughts on this waste of semen was right. Fucking people.
Another thing. The 'c' word doesn't seem to bother me as much anymore for some reason. I mean, yeah, I don't like it but I'm a little more free in its usage. Dunno why. Can't asplain it. Dunno if I want to.
Black hair is a BITCH to maintain. Just warning you. Not that the colour fades fast or anything but my hair is blonde for fucks sake. New growth stands out like a fucking sore thumb. I'm not going back to natural though and dunno about going back to red anymore. The black just seems...right. *shrugs*
Uber excited about GoF coming to DVD next Tuesday. w00t! Ray and I are watching all the movies up to that and then I'll send her out with $$ next tuesday (unless I get it at midnight, which I might:P) and that will be the movie of the week. *does a happy GoF on DVD dance*
Off to get some sleep. Didn't sleep for shit last night. Too much sleep yesterday through the day and then too much Dew all night makes for a very NOT tired Mel and very little sleep. Bah. Vicious cycle that is...
I keep a journal. NOt just this ridiculous blogging thing here. No, this is an actual PAPER AND PEN journal. NOt that uncommon, not really (I don't think anyway:\) There is no layout. I just jot down random song lyrics, thoughts, feelings. IT's all in random order in odd places and angles on the paper. Doodles. Lots of doodles (that's all they could be considered, seeing as my artistic abilities in the drawing department are limited to stick figures). Lots of anger. Lots of worries. Lots of views on the world. No discernable order or dates, just random thoughts on paper. I've decided to name this dribble. And what, you ask, do you name a journal done in this format (or lack there of)?
Brain Vomit.
You heard it right. Brain vomit. I can't stop it once I start. It's all over the place and yet contained in one place. I feel better when I'm done.
Just like letting lose the contents of your stomach into Brother John.
Am I right or what?
Brain vomit. I love it. I believe it's what keeps me sane...in my little world at least;)
Amy found it the other day whilst being nosy in my work bag and was like WHAT THE FUCK is this? I proceeded to beat her to death with the metal spiral binding and then write about it. Quite the therapudic tool. In soooo many ways:P
Speaking of Tool...do I hear right? Tool. New Album? New Tour? ARRRRGGGHHHH! Say it ain't so! I might actually consider going to a show if they come to Fort Wayne. Wouldn't go as far as Indy (am saving that for NINs return in the summer...if it ever happens *hope pray wish*) but if they came to the Fort, I'd definately go. Dunno if I'd risk the floor for that one though. Rough crowd. I mean, the folk at the NIN show were fucking rough but Tool is a whole other animal. THese people are fucking nuts. I dunno. SOmething I might have to mull over for future refrence.
OOH and speaking of another tool...Why do people have to be such tools when they order food. My latest work rant:
So I took this cunts order which was like pulling teeth. She said she wanted the special for 3 mediums for $9.99. I tell her, well, it's actually 3 small one topping pizzas for 9.99 or you can make it mediums for $15. She says to me (all shitty even) I'm sitting here looking at the paper. It says 3 mediums for 9.99. THere is nothing about smalls. So I tell her, yeah, I'm looking at the paper too and it says in the upper left corner it's the 3 smalls for 9.99 and if she looked at the BIG YELLOW circle in the middle, it says, 3 mediums for 15. She proceeds to tell me that she's not going to argue with me and that she knows how to read but WHATEVER (in that super snotty tone...you know the one I'm talking about...grrr) we'll do it your way.
FUCK YOU CUNT!!!!!
Ok, so I take her order and I'm getting her info:
Me:Phone number please?
Dumb Cunt: It's Courier [a local factory]. Dont' you know the number.
Me: That's ok. Last name please.
DC: It's TARA.
Me: Tara? Ok, so...
DC: Yeah, TARA. I'm the only Tara that works here. They'll find me.
Me: Ok, department?
[backstory: a supervisor from this place told me to get the name of the department people work in so that it is easier to find them when we get there...so that's what I do]
DC: *annoyed sigh/groan sound* It's TARA! I'm in the bindery but I'm the ONLY Tara that works here. They KNOW who I am. God!
Me: Sorry bout that but the supervisors have asked that we get everyones department so they are easier to find.
DC: Like I said...
me: *cutting her off* Yeah, I know. You're the ONLY Tara that works there. Your total for deliver is....
WHAT THE BLOODY BLUE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM PEOPLE?!?!?!? Honestly, if I"m wrong about a coupon or total or something, I admitt it. If I'm right though, back the fuck off. Seriously...kinda territorial about it all. Anyway, I guess even the people she works with think she's a total fuck wit. Glad to know my initial thoughts on this waste of semen was right. Fucking people.
Another thing. The 'c' word doesn't seem to bother me as much anymore for some reason. I mean, yeah, I don't like it but I'm a little more free in its usage. Dunno why. Can't asplain it. Dunno if I want to.
Black hair is a BITCH to maintain. Just warning you. Not that the colour fades fast or anything but my hair is blonde for fucks sake. New growth stands out like a fucking sore thumb. I'm not going back to natural though and dunno about going back to red anymore. The black just seems...right. *shrugs*
Uber excited about GoF coming to DVD next Tuesday. w00t! Ray and I are watching all the movies up to that and then I'll send her out with $$ next tuesday (unless I get it at midnight, which I might:P) and that will be the movie of the week. *does a happy GoF on DVD dance*
Off to get some sleep. Didn't sleep for shit last night. Too much sleep yesterday through the day and then too much Dew all night makes for a very NOT tired Mel and very little sleep. Bah. Vicious cycle that is...