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Skip this entry if you're easily offended....

Okay, now that I have your attention.

An old Jewish man, tired of money woes decides to play the lottery. He and his wife think long and hard about which numbers to pick. They finally settle on their choices and the man goes to buy a ticket.

Bright and early the next morning, the man rises to grab the morning paper. He checks the numbers and sure enough, there are the numbers. Right there. "Honey!!" He says, "we just won 30 million dollars!"

They decide to buy a new house with lots of acreage, new cars, vacations, and decide to throw a party and invite everyone they've ever known.

The day of the party arrives. The party guests notice a large item covered by a sheet. Curious, they start asking questions about what's under the sheet but they are all told to wait for the unveiling.

Finally the moment arrives. The man gathers all in the backyard, cuts the rope and rips off the sheet to reveal a 40 foot statue of Hitler.

There is shocked silence followed by the man's relatives angrily asking what the deal is. The man rolls up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo:

"Where do you think I got the numbers?"
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She gets too hungry for dinner at eight
She likes the theater and never comes late
She never bothers with people she'd hate
That's why the lady is a tramp
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Since the space heater I've concluded a direct correlation between being cold and my low sex drive.

I'm cold = no sex.

I'm nice and warm = "Would you care to pull my hair while you fuck me from behind?" or some like sentiment.

Space heaters rule.

I'm feeling compelled to do some real writing very soon. Of the sort one wouldn't post on LJ.

Sleep deprivation seems to be sparking off my creativity.
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Well, the current things bothering me are current world events. This must mean I'm feeling better because when I'm in the throws of depression the rest of the world can go to hell. I won't post my opinion here though. I'm too paranoid to get political these days. Plus I've got my own agendas that left or right, you're not gonna agree with.


It gets lonely being libertarian.
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:: how jedi are you? ::

When I was younger, unknowledgable about the mechanics of sexual desire, I used to get a "warm tickling feeling" when Han Solo was on the screen.

I still do but now I know it's cause I want to bone him.
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Does it make me less of a person to not want to rot in jail for what I believe in?
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The other day, I got a hankering for a bit of caffeine so my workout partner and myself darkened the door of my favorite corporate coffee house. As my WP avoids coffee like the plague (seems a coffee allergy runs in the family), he ordered one of those trendy corporate coffee house creamy cold non-coffee drinks. However, we realized on the way out that they'd put coffee in it. So, being as I now had a mission to suddenly be of service to that glorious man of mine I said...

"I'll go back and bitch at them. I don't want you to get sick."

Why I wanted to do this, I don't know. Any excuse to bitch right?

They were very nice about the whole thing especially when I explained the whole coffee allergy and I now have a free beverage coupon sitting in my purse for future corporate coffee house runs. HOWEVER.....

I was walking out into the parking lot of said corporate coffee house proudly carrying the correct beverage, minding the traffic of Loehman Plaza on the fine fine Eastside. (Factoria to be exact) I looked both ways. A car pulled up and stopped for me to pass. Or so I thought. As I walked forward obviously backlit by the myriad of lights illuminating the lot, the car I was walking in front of began to move forward, slowly at first yet picking up speed. I just narrowly missed becoming a hood ornament due to reflex.

I whipped around full of adrenaline and rage. A plain housewifey woman sat behind the wheel, eyes big, hands covering face with a stupid "oops" expression. I couldn't help it. I had to kick her fucking car. I don't like people trying to run me over. Maybe that makes me less of a person or something.

She was shocked and enraged by my car-kicking action. For a second I thought she was going to get out of her car and come after me. I had to assess wether or not I could take her. Then I realized she was one of those who would rather call the police than fight so I headed to the car where my workout partner sat, patiently awaiting a coconut creme frappuccino. But not without a confrontation.

Shocked Stupid Woman (SSW): WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR???

She wanted to argue the point further but I figured if I hung around any longer. My rage would take over and things would get ugly. Fuming I turned and quickly walked to the car.

RQ: "Some fucking bitch just tried to run me over."
WP: "Ah... that was it. I thought I heard yelling, but I didn't hear any swearing so I didn't think it was you."

I love that man.
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- Went to the club tonight. Big surprise.

- Got to meet [ profile] lawst in person finally. Got shy and wussed out on conversation.

- Bought the Mentor a dancing hamster that sings "I'm too Sexy" and waves it's arms around. WP and I saw it and thought of him. I don't know why. He seemed a little weirded out by the gift. "Is that what you think of me? You think I'm a dancing hamster?" Did I mention he was drunk? The hamster got lots of action as he was being passed around the table while playing and vibrating slightly with the waving arms. He was nestled in several pairs of cleavage, a few necks, and a couple of laps. The hamster definitely was "too sexy." Lucky little bastard.

- Nothing else particularly interesting has been going on. I'm less homicidal and hopeless tonight than I was earlier in the week. Maybe the St. John's Wort is working.

- My sex drive is slowly coming back on line.

- [ profile] killer_queen__ has the rubber nun suit!!! No fair!!! I've been coveting one for a while now. Waaahhhhh... I need a job so I can buy a rubber nun suit.

- I'm really hungry.

- We got a space heater!!! I won't freeze!!!
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Oh yeah, in yet another brilliant piece of journalism, Cosmopolitan came out with the 5 things you should never say to your boyfriend. Among them:

"My stomach hurts." - You're not supposed to say this because guys hate to think of you groaning on the toilet. I'm sorry kids. If you can't deal with the fact that I shit, get constipated, have occasional diarhhea, and fart just like you do, you don't get to be my boyfriend. Next!

"How many guys you've slept with" - Now, I've actually had someone leave me a note telling me what a horrible person I was for me in the morning when I got drunk, confessed my number and babbled some more before passing out. He couldn't handle it. (Of course, he was practically virginal when we got together, 19 and still living with his very religious parents. I met him at a Rocky Horror convention. You would have thought he'd be a little less conservative.) For some reason people freak out about this one a lot. To the point that I really have to have someone's trust before I tell them. Men and women freak out. Women are some of the worst. (Backwards thinking seeing as some of them identified as either feminists or sex workers or both.) But when I'm interested in commiting to someone, I can't hide anything and feel good about it. Therefore, they get my laundry list. Once again, if you can't handle it, you can't be my boyfriend. NEXT!!!!

There were some others - three to be exact but I can't remember them.
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So, I have a terrible confession to make. About three weeks into my menstrual cycle I suddenly have this urge to buy a woman's magazine. A symptom of PMS making me hate myself. Not just any woman's magazine....


I swear it's the mind of a stupid straight girl laid bare for all to see.

The worst offender this month: Why do women cheat?

Ooohh... The shocking expose on women who cheat on their mates. Even though of course men are the worst offenders (according to cosmo anyway) this article actually said, "Infidelity among women is on the rise. In this day and age women are just as likely to cheat on men. TV shows like Sex & the City are promoting the idea of sex for pleasure and women are buying into it."

Oh my god? SEX FOR PLEASURE? How dare women buy into such a terrible idea?

Sex is dirty and evil.... You should save it for the one you love.

Imagine. Before TV shows like Sex and the City, many women had no idea sex could be pleasurable!!!! Imagine!!!! Now they're cheating on their partners!!! Holy Fuck!!!

It also says, "If you find yourself having the desire to cheat, you should completely avoid being alone with your object of desire and take a step back to reassess your relationship with your partner." It continues to say that if you cheat the absolutely dumbest thing you can do is confess because "women are more likely to forgive cheating than men. Men will more likely disconnect from the relationship."

This implies that women are weak, first of all because they can't be alone with their temptation and second, that they get these naughty notions that sex can be pleasurable from tv shows. (obviously they couldn't figure out that sex was pleasurable before.) Men are weak, because they can't handle the information that their lily white girlfriend just cheated on them so a girl would be dumb to risk losing the most important thing to them (their man).

Okay, cheating's a tough subject. What is cheating anyway? I got into an argument with someone I found through a LJ random search who decided that his girlfriend merely wanting to have sex with someone else was cheating. My opinion was that was ridiculous and that also kills some degree of communication since his girlfriend then has to hide desire from him.

Maybe my workout partner and I are weird. I talk to him about just about every sexual notion that flits into my head and what I'd like to do about it. I also talk about just about every sexual thing I've ever done. This doesn't generally cause any sort of argument. A debate and some negotiating maybe. But it's not worth ending anything over. In my opinion, it never is.

Sexual desire is too unpredictable and unexplainable to put strict, unchanging, ideas on. If sex is not the basis for your relationship, it shouldn't end it either.

If my partner wished to have sex with someone else, I'd like a little warning, a reassurance, a "You know, I think it'd be fun to do that one...."

A sexual affair, done openly is to me far less damaging than an "emotional affair" done on the sly. Having sex is one thing, hiding things from me and leaving me is another thing. Moving someone else in is also not cool. Putting someone else first besides me also goes strictly against my relationship code. I'm the alpha female, my partner is the alpha male and nobody better forget it.

Cosmopolitan can lick my twat.

Of course, they don't do that sort of thing. They wrote another "shocker" in another issue about women making out with their female friends in bars!!! Another OH MY GOD. I won't go off on that one just now.
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Congratulations, you're Las Vegas, Sin City.
What US city are you? Take the quiz by Girlwithagun.

I love Las Vegas. It's the only place I can think clearly. Scary as that is. It's so far removed from reality that it sort of puts everything in perspective. Plus the sunsets over the El Cortez from the balcony-type window that you can just barely crawl out onto at the plaza are fucking gorgeous. Of course, so are the ones from the front of a chiropractor's office on the North strip, far, far away from the glitz of what everyone else considers the strip.

Maybe I'm just weird.
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I feel myself getting sick again.

That really sucks.

Must mainline vitamin c.

Must eat gluten free soy cheese pizza with lots and lots of MEAT on it and take a nap.

May see blood, hockey, and ice tonight. Haven't decided if we can really afford it.

Gotta go to chiropractor pronto. Can barely move neck.
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What kind of punk are you?

brought to you by Quizilla

Funny, WP and I got up early today and went to the dislocated worker seminar at the unemployment office.

Nothing like going to worksource with the one you love.

Maybe it was Auburn, maybe it was the time of day, but I had to lean over to WP after looking around at the rest of the class and say, "Wow. You and I are really attractive."

I guess the pretty people aren't out at 8:30 in the morning in Auburn.
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Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?

brought to you by Quizilla

Well, still a couple of weeks or so until I figure out if the St. John's Wort is working.

I was supposed to call a couple of people this week to go hang out and haven't been able to bring myself to use the phone.

Dragged myself out to some Pretty People's 12-step meeting. Didn't stay to chat with anyone really, I sometimes don't want to talk to people when I'm on the verge of answering the question, "how are you?" with the truth.

Caring fucking maggots. Tell them you're having a rough time of it and they look for a quick escape.

Plus I'm shy.

Believe it or not. Many don't. I may appear confident, scary, etc. so people don't think I have a problem with this.

Take for example, meeting people online. People on your friends list. That you've never really met before. Here are the people reading your psycho babble on a daily basis. The ones that read about your sex life, your depression, your rage, your desire etc. All I seem to be able to do when I meet someone is say, "um, hi." and scurry away. Somewhere in the back of my head I think of some entry I probably shouldn't have posted and think, gee they know I like it in the butt occasionally and have PTSD episodes where I run and hide in the closet. You've therefore skipped right over a lot of the whole "getting to know you" part right there.

Of course, conversation in general has been difficult lately. Unless it's someone I've known for a while or someone I verbally spar with. I'll head out into the main room of a club, and find myself involved in conversation hoping for the exit, the song I need to dance to or the pool game with my name on it.

Some of the people I talk to, I'd love to say more to. I'd love to get to know. But lately I think, I just need to hide!! Shit!!! Quick before I do something dumb!!!

Then it hits me. I can't do conversation so I have to do something weird. I'll spontaneously break into the hand jive. I'll try to get the person I'm talking to to do a kick line. I'll make a loud noise or say something like, "You know, if I was running through the club swinging an axe, no one would bump into me." And then I make my quick exit. With a twirl, a twist, a splash of performance and a smile. Therefore affirming my place in the goth club food chain: at the top.

I gotta get off this thing. I need food.
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What Is Your True Aura Colour?

brought to you by Quizilla

Yeah. Fucking Whatever. Optimistic my ass. Fun loving? Yeah, sure, when I'm not trying to crawl under a rock or watching the fucking news or thinking.


Like a happy face. A banana. A happy school bus loaded down with happy children.

Yellow is also the background color for hazardous waste stickers and Jose Cuervo a.k.a. jet fuel. Yellow is the color of a certain kind of baby shit and the corn in your crap disturbing you as it winks from the toilet bowl.

I'm still kind of unhappy, I think.

I must be. I normally don't assault myself with Queensryche.
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I scored a 100% on the "are you fuckable?" Quizie! What about you?

Now if only the overhanging neon-sign of depression wasn't the fact that my sex drive has dropped to the deepest darkest depths of the fathomless ocean. I know it's bad when this happens. My normal drive is downright masculine.

Hasn't stopped me from having sex dreams though.

Oddly enough, sex dreams are something I almost never have but in the last few weeks I've had a few of them. Like real enjoyable ones. Not the trauma-related sex nightmares I ocassionally have. I wake up going, huh? Why is it my sex drive is so low when I'm awake and ravenous when I'm asleep?

I don't really get it.

I seem to be getting sick again as well. It's only been a couple weeks since I recovered from my previous illness. All the depression and anxiety overload must be eroding my immune system. My joints, they be achin'.

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Went out to the Merc tonight. Was going to head over to the Vogue but everyone coming back to the Merc that usually hangs out there late said it was terribly dead. Plus I didn't have cover and had to arrange an ATM run that didn't happen until about 1 at which point, I realized I was tired and cranky and hungry anyway but at any rate.......

[ profile] izador gave me mouse ears!!!!!

It's hard to stay in a foul mood when you're in a goth club wearing minnie mouse ears with your name on them and PVC. I felt like uber darling dork. Plus I kept catching myself reflected in the mirror and you just can't take yourself seriously when you look like the lost Mousketeer, you know the Black Sheep of the Mickey Mouse Club. The one with more cleavage than Annette Funicello so she had to go cause it was a "family show".

At any rate, I felt like the full embodiment of Walt Disney's true vision.

Okay I'm kidding about the vision embodiment.

Yay!!! I Have mouse ears!!!! Yay!!!!!

There's something about mouse ears. Makes you feel special. In all ways one can be special. Everything from that "special" someone to that short bus kind of "special"

I'm really tired.
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Name Four Bad Habits You Have:
1. plotting murder
2. farting
3. punching myself in the head
4. shoplifting

Name Four Things That You Wish You Had:
1. an axe
2. a penis
3. a ducati
4. a naked girl tied up in my closet

Name Four Scents You Love:
1. Napalm in the morning
2. Pussy
3. Rubber Cement (mmmm.... can't get enough)
4. That post sex-smell that permeates the room

Name Four People That Know You the Best:
1. Elvis Presley
2. Jesus
3. John Lennon
4. Sid Vicious

Name Four Things You'd Never Wear:
1. a hazmat suit
2. an orange jumpsuit
3. a straight jacket
4. A suit made of steak in a lion cage

Name Four Things You Are Thinking About Now:
1. butt sex
2. napalm
3. a naked girl tied up in my closet
4. moon boots

Name Four People You Would Like To Spend More Time With:
1. a good doctor
2. a good shrink
3. a good lawyer
4. a good shaman

Name Four Bands/Groups Most People Don't Know You Like:
1. Rubber Bands
2. Hair Bands
3. Wedding Bands

Name Four Drinks You Regularly Drink:
1. Milk of Magnesia
2. Robitussin
3. Semen
4. Black Bitter Coffee

Sorry. Had to do it. Thanks Miss Laura Palmer! I'm happier now.
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How Does *Your* Dick Rate?

Aw c'mon I had to....

Even though my penis is so small.
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Better when I'm not twitching. Someday I'll quit smoking. Quit drinking and doing drugs. That's the first step. Oh wait, the first step is to admit that you're powerless. Oh well.

Sometimes I think you shouldn't post deep felt nastiness on live journal. Then again, you get feedback from numerous people and start to feel like you're not that bad. Thanks everybody.

Still alive and kicking. Will go out dancing tonight at the Vogue after playing a little pool at the Mercury. Although since I haven't been crying all day I don't know that I'll be playing all that fabulously.


I'll give the St. John's Wort a little time to work. Try to stay occupied until then. I can only deal with my personal demons so much. Food is cooking.

The mentor loaned me a book called Fermata by Nicholson Baker. He says it's of the erotic type that I might enjoy. After I read that I should hit the used book store and try to get a hold of some more Henry Miller. The haphazard rambling style and the simple joys contained therein make me happy. Even if he's kind of a misogynist. In some ways so am I but only against the women embodying everything I hate about the female stereotype. The female friends I have don't really do this. There's a type I used to refer to as "Poodle Girls". The ones that never try to break out of the shopping, man-worshipping, gotta find a mate now, jealous, gossiping, victim-perpetuating, I-make-less-money-than-your-average-man-for-a-reason, Ally McBeal watching, sex-is-bad-and-should-be-used-as-a-commodity stereotype.

Ooh. Food's ready.
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