(no subject)
The sound of my hoofs hitting the ground and the feel of my theighs rubbing against each other must mean I'm gaining weight. Oh, how I do love when I become stressed out and sad. At some point, I incorporated the notion that food equals comfort into my life. I must get this from my mother who relenlessly tries feeding me every chance she gets. She channels the witch from Hansel and Gretel whenever she needs to show affection toward me - whenever she needs to show me that she cares. So instead of a hug I get a taco. And then, whenever she wants to help me I'll get pizza instead. Not that I'd ever give her a chance to do anything like that anyway. I'd just burst into flames right there as frogs, kittens, and squirrels fell out of the tree in droves. I can't let people who love me say they love me. When the moment does actually happen it's like seeing Jack the Ripper, a naked Oprah Winfrey, and every gory photo from Rotten.com there right before my eyes. I think, "why aren't you calling me a piece of shit?" I mean that's who I am. That's how I feel.
A couple of months ago some poor, unfortunate old lady who has probably no doubt died by now left her pair of sun glasses in the store. Feeling very Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen today with my bagging clothes and styrofoam cup held close to my chest I put on the oversized brown sunglasses and went about my business for a few hours of the day. I guess they must have been perscription sunglasses because when I took them off I nearly fell over, dizzy with little blue lines dancing all around me. Or I could have had a heart attack or a stroke. I once walked around for a couple hours without knowing there was human shit in my hair so who knows.
Jason Lee has been on TV promoting his new TV show, "There's Something About Earl" ... uhh ... "Earl Scissorhands" ... umm maybe ... "Sexy Teen Earls Part X." I dunno. Something with "Earl" in the title. I just sit there, watching intently, hoping that'll he'll say, "What's a Nubian?" but he never does.
I think I'd much rather listen to the bodily functions of an eighty year-old man than to ever listen to Fall Out Boy.
A couple of months ago some poor, unfortunate old lady who has probably no doubt died by now left her pair of sun glasses in the store. Feeling very Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen today with my bagging clothes and styrofoam cup held close to my chest I put on the oversized brown sunglasses and went about my business for a few hours of the day. I guess they must have been perscription sunglasses because when I took them off I nearly fell over, dizzy with little blue lines dancing all around me. Or I could have had a heart attack or a stroke. I once walked around for a couple hours without knowing there was human shit in my hair so who knows.
Jason Lee has been on TV promoting his new TV show, "There's Something About Earl" ... uhh ... "Earl Scissorhands" ... umm maybe ... "Sexy Teen Earls Part X." I dunno. Something with "Earl" in the title. I just sit there, watching intently, hoping that'll he'll say, "What's a Nubian?" but he never does.
I think I'd much rather listen to the bodily functions of an eighty year-old man than to ever listen to Fall Out Boy.