“In the last 12 months have you had sex with an intravenous drug user, with or without a condom or other form of protection?”
“uh…”

"what's that?"

"uh.. yes. yes i have... i'm not going to be able to donate blood today, am i?"

"you've had sex with an intravenous drug user in the last year?"
"yes"
"you didn't know?"
"um. no, i know."
"but you didn't know at the time?"
"no, not at the time." -- so see, i did end up lying.

i knew at the time he was an intravenous drug user. i knew the whole time. i just didn't take it into consideration.

"holy fuck, what am i going to tell my boyfriend?"
"girl. you're gonna tell him your iron was too low. ima give you a code that say your iron was too low and you can even show it to him."

at this point i'm in shock still. and i would remain there for another 5 hours or so. my heart is beating furiously and all that is going through my head is that the boy is coming over for dinner and he's going to ask how the blood donating went. and i don't want to lie. i don't want to tell him a lie.

i had been earnestly praying for honesty for the last few weeks. i had been praying for god to take my relationship troubles. i had been doubting whether or not the relationship was working but i was unwilling to leave it. so i had been praying and praying and just trying to be very honest. honest meaning that i wasn't going to lie anymore. i didn't get that honesty also meant telling the truth.

so i call my sponsor. she knows everything. she knows my history and she knows what i am about today. she knows i have been praying and meditating on my relationship. she knows that i am now aware that while i claim to want a long term relationship and marriage that my actions (including sleeping with a 20 year old heroin addict) prove differently.

so i fill her in. and i tell her i know that the boy is going to ask about donating blood and that i don't want to lie. i just keep repeating "i don't want to lie."

we talk about what i'm going to say when he asks. that i could possibly say that i "decided not to give blood today." or just "i didn't give blood today."

mostly she suggests that i just pray. pray my little heart out for honesty and strength and humility. just breathe and pray.

so i head home and walk the dogs. and start to cook dinner. and the boy comes over and we chat lightly about whatever. school. the dogs. the food. then i believe we even have sex. and then we head out for an hour or so. and he brings me back home and drops me off. which is odd in itself because he usually spends the night.

the mind is an amazing thing. i tell you this because i know.

after he drops me off i sit at my kitchen table and breathe. i am at first so thankful that he didn't ask. HE DIDN'T ASK. phew.

and then it starts to sink in just exactly what i've done. and here's when i tell you the worst part of the story.

i have been holding a loaded weapon to my boyfriend's head. and he doesn't even know it.

i slept with that intravenous drug user.

without a condom.

be a hero

so they were having a blood drive at my work

“BE A HERO”

the posters read.

ok, i’ll be a hero. i’ll donate.

i have no idea why i decided it would be a good idea for me to donate blood. i have paper thin veins and they hide from needles (prolly saved me from being a shooter) but i’m feeling a ton of gratitude lately and i want to give something back.

i schedule it for a tuesday and i tell the boy. he laughs because he knows how i am about giving blood. so tuesday comes and i reschedule for wednesday. he asks how it was donating blood and i tell him i was too rushed and that i rescheduled for wednesday.

he laughs cuz he knows i got scared.

“why don’t you come over for dinner on wednesday after i give blood?”

so wednesday comes and i’m praying all day. mostly i’m praying to be honest. see i have tattoos and i know there’s the hep thing, but i’ve been tested but not since the last tattoo. so i pray to be honest even if it means i can’t donate. i know it seems weird but i’m such a people pleaser that i’ll lie about the tattoos before i know it, just so that i can donate blood. i know. weirdo.

so i pray for honesty.

and after work i head down to the medical building and sign up. i get through the first round of quesitons and all clear. nothing about the tattoos. the girl calls me back.

she says she’s gonna need some blood to test for iron so she pricks my finger. she drops in in a test tube and watches it. it takes too long to fall. she says she’s going to have to do another test. “does that mean i’m slightly anemic?” i ask. “probably,” she says. she takes more blood and walks down the hall.

she comes back with a thumbs up. i’m okay to give blood… after a few simple questions.

“Are you HIV positive or do you think you may be HIV positive?”
“no”

“Have you ever had hepatitis B or hepatitis C or do you think you may have hepatitis now?”
“no”

“Have you ever injected or been injected with illegal or non-prescribed drugs, including bodybuilding drugs? (You must answer 'Yes' even if it was only once or a long time ago.)”
“no”

“Have you had sex in the last 12 months with:
a. anyone who is HIV positive
b. anyone who has hepatitis B or C”
“no, no”

“In the last 12 months have you had sex with an intravenous drug user, with or without a condom or other form of protection?”
“uh…”

…

did you forget that it's thursday?

sex sex sex til daddy takes the t-bird away
over at FTTW.

check out the other stuff too. seriously it's a fucking great site.

alright alright jeez i feel the need to defend myself here

what little shred of decency i have left is screaming for attention.

first of all. i've been asked to define "sexual encounter."

i've been accused (*ahem*) of clintonesque speech. so let me lay it down for you.

the aforementioned "blowjob guy" is not just some guy off the streets. he's a guy i've known for sometime. the "encounters" took place in my house. i am not a hooker. (if i were i'd have the fucking sense to get paid) the blowjob happened. the boy and i had broken up and this guy and i are friends. the reason i'm not using his name is because i have no right to put someone else's shit out there.

the boy still has this blog address after all.

that being said, the reason i call it a "sexual encounter" is because that's what it was. it couldn't really be called sex. i think that both of us knew deep down inside that we were better as friends. and so, the sex didn't even work. so ya. sexual encounter it was. with the words "sexual encounter" i wanted to get across the fact that the reason we abstained was not because i had grown an instant conscience.

now. all THAT being said. i also feel the need to tell you that i did NOT have sex with EVERY FUCKING GUY I CAME INTO CONTACT WITH. i mean, geez i'd be a busy girl if i screwed every guy i know. i have male friends, plenty of them, whom i've not slept with. (mark speak up here, tell them we've never had sex and at some point you didn't even have a girlfriend)

why it's important for me to let you know all this is, admitedly, laughable. i mean, why i feel the need to defend bad behavior by saying "hey it could be worse," is beyond me.

let's just call it part of the process...

all right then back to the grind...

heh. grind.

ok so i was in the middle of the who did you cheat with question.

ok so now that you know all about how my self-esteem is limitless in it's non-existance. and you know that i crave male attention. so pretty much i've been a cheat my whole life.

well, i was with one guy for 4 years and only cheated on him once.

that was a good long run. and mostly, it was because he never let me out of his sight. literally. he fucking knew. he knew (knows) me like no one else on the planet and loved me anyway. he just knew that if i was away from him for too long that i would cheat. and he was right so we were together for 2+ years before i ever spent the night away from him.

no, not healthy, but effective.

so what does that have to do with my recent relationship? well. i was with the boy for over a year and no cheating. again, partially due to having no time to myself.

you should also know that i lied to the boy about using. twice. the first time was a doozy because i was claiming to be clean for 9 years when we met and i was lying. he stayed through that wreck and then i lied to him again about using pills.

so he had some serious trust issues, understandably.

so then we break up. it's horrible and it hurts. but we feel it's for the best. he has trust issues and hates that i'm so flirtatious with men and i'm feeling "suffocated."

then i gave a dude a blowjob. (yes very high class)

then i slept with my ex-boyfriend. the 4 year one.

then i had a brief sexual encounter with the blow job guy.

then me and the boy got back together. we missed each other we love each other we can do this.

then shit hit the fan. i was hanging out with a 20 year old kid. a very newly clean 20 year old kid. the boy said it was inappropriate. i lost my cool we fought big blowout. i went to my folks for the weekend. when i came back i said i wanted to work things out he said take a few more days and be sure i said ok.

and then i slept with the 20 year old.

and then the boy and i got back together one last time. you still with me?

pain

so when you're the bad guy, you're not supposed to feel so much pain, are you?

i mean, especially if the consensus was that neither of you were very happy at the end.





whatever. no posting today.

i'm taking a dramatic pause.

first things first...

today is tesco's birthday. so please go wish him a happy one. (ya i know, today's post is gary numan but don't hold that against him -- or me!)

dude's an old man though, so try not to scare him. you could give him a stroke.
--------------------------------
okay then on with the show.

we're on the second sister question: Who did you cheat with?

hmmm. this question seems like an easy enough question to answer. but in reality it is a many layered dealie. wow. this is gonna be tougher than i thought...

ok let's start with this: i have very low (read:nearly none) self esteem. who the fuck knows why and at this point i just don't care because knowing "why" has never answered the "what do i do about it now" question. but it's true. and i believe (this is just me) that my alcohol and drug use was a way to forget that. among other things.

this, however is a downward spiraling self fulfilling prophesy type thing.

because during drug and alcohol fueled binges i do things that i'm not proud of and that does nothing to help my self esteem in fact lowers it because now i'm a piece of shit that does piece of shit things, you see. and then what else is there to do but drink and drug those feelings away which creates worse beavior and on and on and on...

now.

there are other things that i have done to try and "fix" the self esteem hole, or at least fill it temporarily. one of those things is sex. well, male attention in general and sex specifically. from a very young age i have sought male attention. the whole "if you think i'm worth something than maybe i am worth something" fucked up line of thinking.

please understand that i know this is the easy way out. i mean the truth is that there are ways to build self esteem. stop lying. stop stealing. stop gossiping. start doing esteemable acts. start creating a life that i am proud of. but people. i am fucking lazy and that always seemed like hard work. i never had it in me to study when i could just cheat and get the same grade.

the only problem with this logic is that it is miserably empty. once the male attention is gone, once the sex is over, once the intense lust feelings fade away, i'm left with the same hole in my self esteem. the same gut feeling that i'm nothing and that i'll never be anything. only now it's exacerbated by the fact that i've slept with too many people and flirt with guys infront of a boyfriend that i claim to love...

this does NOT great relationship material make...

NOT for the faint of heart...

sisters and cousins need not click through.

new stuff up at FTTW.

shit since at least half of you are here via ALa's blog i guess i better do this...

Were you born before the end of the first Gulf war?
shit i graduated highschool before the USS Missouri and USS Wisconsin left port for saudi.


Childhood nickname?
well, i don't want to give away too much about my last name but let's just say it was comparable to "butthole." yes, i learned how to fight very young.

Historical person you have the biggest crush on?
henry v

Favorite type of candy?
anyfuckingthing except for that sour shit. what the fuck is that about?

Favorite foreign country?
today? sweden

Fish or chicken?
what're you a commie? medium rare filet mignon.

Do you have your own perfume line?
yes, it's called pheromoans and if i could bottle it i'd be rich and you all would be fucked.

Have you ever written a children's book?
holy fucking shit no, what in the christing hell would i fucking say to a child?

Have you been in a movie based on a book?
once i sniffed a bunch of k and thought i was alice in wonderland.

Ever posed nude for a photo?
yes. there also exists video.

Guiltiest pleasure?
unfortunately nothing that includes guilt holds much pleasure for me anymore.

Your best non-guilty pleasure, then?
raven's sundays with my dogs.

What are you allergic to?
alcohol. (i break out in handcuffs)

Worst pickup line you've heard?
"hey, can i get a ride?"

Were you bar mitzvahed?
huh?

Have you ever cried during a TV interview?
nope. not even when i interviewed courtney love.

If they made a movie of your life, who would play you?
tina fey.

Pet peeve?
people loudly talking on cell phones in public places.

If you weren't doing what you do, what job would you like to have?
anchor for the nightly news.

Place you will never be found?
dave matthews concert.

Why did you participate in this tagging?
dude, she's ALa...

ok where were we..

oh ya... we're answering my sisters questions.

this one's about my behavior at the restaurant. before i head back in and finish this one off, i feel the need to defend myself. i am not a horrible person. i am not mean to everyone i meet. those of you who have had any interaction with me, know this. there were just a couple of places in my life (albeit big ones: work, relationship) that i was behaving badly.

ok, on with the show:

when we last left kali, she was growing a conscience.

the first little nagging feeling happened when i wasn't at work at all. my manager called me at home to tell me that one of our employees had quit. he told me that she quit because her husband asked her to. she had cheated with a co-worker, gotten a conscience, told him and he had asked her to quit. they already had one child and another on the way. (no, neil, it's not the bee girl)

so my manager says call her and find out who she hooked up with, she won't tell them and they can't figure it out. see? this is what i'm known for. so i call her. (my boyfriend is watching this go on the entire time and is, understandably, sickened.)

as i'm on the phone with her pretending (though not really, cuz she's a nice girl and i kinda do care, but i've got this reputation, see...) to be concerned. so i'm trying to fish the details out of her and BOOM i get this weird feeling in my gut. that i shouldn't be doing this. that i'm playing with someone's life. that it is just wrong. so i wish her well and hang up.

i call the manager back and tell him that she gave me nothing. that was the first time i had felt my new conscience.

ever since i started trying to live my life honestly, this waitress/bar gig has been a source of discontent. i used to explain to people how poorly i behaved there. and try to figure out why i couldn't just stop being such a dick.. but i couldn't.

i was such a cunt. so reactive and selfish and snotty. the people at the job just expected it of me.

so a few weeks ago i'm having another snit fit about checking out or some nonsense and i say (like i've said a thousand times before) "this place drives me fucking nuts. i'm going to walk the fuck out of here."

and the NEW manager says, "there's the door."

and so i hand him my book with my checkout and all of my money and walk out the door.

and i'm given my first chance to start behaving better in an area of my life in which i've had trouble.

given, that was my night job and now that i've started school i only have time for my day job in which i've created healthy habits. well, except that i've occasionally stolen postage from the postage meter. though, now i've even stopped doing that because now i have a conscience. what a pain in the ass.

as for the cheating on my boyfriend questions, you're going to have to comeback tomorrow for the juice on that....

ok here's where it gets real...

as you know, my sister reads my blog. so, soon after she read my post yesterday, i got this email:

So, just out of sheer curiosity..... fill me in. I'm not judging, I just want the scoop.

How exactly is it that you conducted yourself at the restaurant that was so dispicable?

Who did you cheat with?

How are YOU with the whole break up thing???????????????????????????

i can't help but think these are all the questions that anyone might have. and so i have this urge to answer them here, tony pierce style.

let's break 'em down

1. How exactly is it that you conducted yourself at the restaurant that was so dispicable?

well. where to begin?

some of you may know that i am trying to live my life these days by a set of simple spiritual principles. principles like honesty, open-mindedness and willingness to try something knew. i'm trying to have respect for all people. i'm trying to build my self esteem by experiencing, effectually, a change in personality.

i have been a drug-user, an alcoholic, a liar, a thief, a braggart, a cheat, and con-girl for a very long time. those ruts are deep in my psyche. put there through years and years of practice. so i can't help think it will take a whole lot of practice to make new "ruts."

so i had the job at the restaurant. i had it since before i stopped using drugs and before i started to really "try on" this new lifestyle. so i had bad habits there. hey, not as bad as before, but still not good.

(i mean, twice i was fired from jobs for stealing. shit, no, three (at least.) i wrote the hard rock cafe a check for $113 a month for a whole year in order not to go to jail - and that was probably a low estimate)

so, at the latest restaurant, i had seniority. (not hard at a restaurant, i mean just stick around for a few months you'll be the senior employee) i was known for my bad attitude. i was known for hating new people until they were around for two weeks. i was known for trash talking customers until the very moment that i was standing in front of the table at which point i would turn on the act. the act that i liked them and really cared about what kind of dining experience they were having. i was really good at this act. mostly because somewhere, down deep inside, i really did care.

i know it sounds stupid but it's true. i always wanted to be a better person. it just always seemed like too much work. and believe me, IT IS. but i'll get into that more with the second question...

so i was a bitch at work and it worked. i always had high sales, and in turn i got the sections that i wanted. i got cut when i wanted to be cut and i stayed when i wanted to stay. i trained all the new employees because i was a stickler for restaurant rules. i got the barshifts that everyone wanted because i kissed the manager's ass better than anyone else. i gave him dirt on other employees and i kept my sales high.


and then, i started to get this conscience. just like a little nagging in the back of my mind...

... to be continued ...

don't forget...

thursday is the new saturday over at FTTW.

in two more days there'll be a new screaming like a banshee and it will not disappoint. so, uh, what i mean to say is that if you're a family member you may not want to read this one.

like if you thought the last two were bad... uh... ya maybe just take the day off.

cuz, i don't know if you heard but we're on a mission to destroy.

...

ok so it's been fucking hell around here lately. mostly a self imposed hell, but hell nonetheless.

the boy is gone for good. i really fucked that one up. it's ok. i'm fucking sad but i will live.

i keep having the feeling that god is taking a machete to the parts of my life in which i was behaving badly. i keep waiting for this blog to self destruct at any moment.

i was a self righteous bitch at my waitress/bar job. i hated the way i conducted my self there and could never manage to change it. so what happens? WHACK! gone.

i was a self-worthless bitch in my relationship. and then i cheated. WHACK! gone.

so now i get to start over. start from nothing. i can't help feeling like i should stay single for a little while. i've not ever been good at being single. and i do feel like i'm a bit old to be going it alone. but, hey, it can't hurt to breathe for a minute. i've got grad school. i've got dogs. i've got self improvement tactics to practice.

please god don't let me turn into the dog lady...

one time ALa told me that she could tell what year in school a blogger was by his/her posts. you know, by the tone and subject, by which authors or studies were referenced or mentioned: hemmingway or bukowski, skinner or maslow, sartre or kant.

i was like, "huh?"

so here i am enrolled in a leadership ethics course and i'm pondering the right vs. wrong and right vs. right in every situation.

so here's one for you.

my 90 year old grandmother fell and broke her literal and proverbial hip last night. my mom calls me from her cell phone at 9:19pm and immediately i know it's mommom. and upon hearing the news thank god it's not something more serious.

they're taking her by ambulance to a larger hospital because my parents live in east bum fuck. this has nothing to do with the moral dilemma but it's what got me thinking on the topic.

about 2 months ago my parents went to their storage unit to get some things. they are building a house and in the meantime living in a small farmhouse so nearly everything is in storage. they have a climate controlled trailer (as in tractor-trailer) on their property in which the better stuff is kept. then they rent a small storage space where they keep the stuff they need to get at. tailgating stuff for raven's games, odds and ends. my shit was in there until i picked it up.

so my grandmother moves up to MD after living in florida for 50+ years. she needs to come live closer. they put some of her stuff in the storage space. her pictures and some other stuff.

so my folks go to get some stuff out and find that the storage space has been flooded and lots of stuff was ruined. including my gradmothers pictures. her only wedding picture. pictures of her parents and family. ruined. for ever.

at 91 my mommom is getting, uh, let's say "ornery." she's never been like this, but her mother was excessivley so in her old age. holy moly that woman was nutso. anywho. my folks have not yet told my grandmother about the flood.

she's begining to ask for some stuff from the storage unit.

my folks say they know they're gonna have to tell her... but how, and when and to what end?...

Subject: Fw: Teacher arrested Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2006 16:45:10 -0400

NEW YORK -- A public school teacher was arrested today at John F. Kennedy International Airport as he attempted to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a set square, a slide rule and a calculator. At a morning press conference, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-gebra movement.

He did not identify the man, who has been charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction. "Al-gebra is a problem for us," Gonzales said. "They desire solutions by any means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in search of absolute values.

They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to themselves as 'unknowns', but we ha ve determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country.

As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, 'There are 3 sides to every triangle'."

When asked to comment on the arrest, George W. Bush said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, he would have given us more fingers and toes." Aides told reporters they could not recall a more intelligent or profound statement by the President.

just a couple of quick things

i'm blogging on my break like tony always used to say to do beacuse my life has gotten BUSY people. so very busy and exciting and scarey and awesome. so i have a few minutes to say a couple of things.

uh wait i'm losing my train of thought here oh YA

one - can i tell you that i love when at least 35 women have a conversation about a 20 year old unwed pregnant girl and NOT ONE of them mentions abortion? i fucking love it i love it i love it.

two - bringing my lunch is infinity times more betterer than buying lunch and i thought it would be completely the opposite. my kinda bread, my kinda meat, the perfect amount of mayo, the best pickles, grapes, wheat thins AND A PEAR!!??!! where in the fuck could you buy such a perfect lunch.

three - though my life has been extremely busy i have found time to get to the gym inthe morning. something i couldn't do for the life of me when i had nothing better to do.

four - who knew that when you had questions about a class that if you emailed the professor they would clear them all up??? oh you knew that? well i guess i did to but was always too chicken shit to do it.

five - thank g-d work has slowed down to a crawl because my school books are splayed all across my work desk and my boss doesn't mind at all.

sic - i have no idea why i have started to use a dash in the spot where the o goes. isn't that what jews do?

seven - i totally mispelled six with a c but then i thought it was funny because if anyone (ya right) would ever quote that last one they'd have to write sic[sic] ahahhahaha

ok i'm going back to MBA/MSITS land now i love you all.

p.s. bob dylan has the number one record in america

raymi: anna nicoles son killed himself yesterday
feel bad for posting the madtv vid now

me: i know freaked me out after having seen your buzznet video thingy
RIGHT!
weird

raymi: maybe he read my blog
haha

me: ahah
it was def. a weird relationship tho
i hate how you can't say mean things about anybody after they're dead

raymi: i know

me: like i fucking hate sam kinison and his fucking screaming -- it wasn't even funny but then when he died you had to be all like "wow -sucks to lose such a comic genius"
duh

raymi: haha
fat guys dying is always sad

me: ONLY IF THEYRE FUNNY
heh i just screamed like him
maybe he was a comic genius

raymi: hahaa

me: just ahead of his time

raymi: yes

hey... how'd they know?

You are "Face with Glasses"

What Japanese Smiley Are You?

and why is this part of the code: alt="John Kerry"???

PUNK MY RIDE

ready. set. drag.



the official lauch of faster than the world.
we are on a mission to fucking destroy

what started out as a punkrock and car site has turned into
oh so much more.

20 some odd writers from 20 some odd places on 20 some odd topics

(some are odder than others -- mine comes with a disclaimer - heh)

dude this is going to be so much fun that it'll easily double your internet time.
seriously.
DO NOT GO THERE if you are easily overwhelmed.
seriously.
DO NOT CLICK HERE if you are offended by bad language and honesty.
DO NOT CLICK THIS if you can't handle the TRUTH.

27 to fucking NOTHING!

boller you can go now. fuck you very much










and is chris simms like 15 years old or what?

quote of the week

"I've got nothing against skinny girls, but they get plenty of attention already." -- COOP

ok but to be honest i really wanted to be her

so i said my eyes were "sultry" even if they're really closer to "expressive"

You are Bettie Page

Girl next door with a wild streak You're a famous beauty - with unique look And the people like you are cultish about it

What Famous Pinup Are You?

**update -- i just fucked with my answers a bit and it seems as if i'm bettie no matter how honest i am -- yay**

fucking faster than the fucking world

hey guess who puts the "fucking" in "faster than the world?"

yup! moi!

i gotta column on thursday morning called
screaming like a banshee.

(it's about sex, juls, so, uh well... don't click unless you can pretend it's a "character")

there are also a shit-ton of other great writers and cartoonists involved, so i may actually be the least interesting thing over there...

NAH... just kidding.

dear cute smart endearing old-souled 20 year old boy with the beautiful eyes and great taste in music:

yes you with the shooting heroin and delaudid and whatever else you can get into your already feeble veins...




stop.




please.



you are breaking my heart

the fair wasn't as much fun as i remember

and i'm stressed out about my new class

dude gave out an "errata sheet" for the text book he required.

from the syllabus:

"The material covered in this course is intended to form a foundation of technical knowledge for systems analysis, design, configuration, procurement, and management.

Although some of these applications are briefly addressed in this course, the primary emphasis is expanding students' technical knowledge of hardware and system software."

whose idea was this dual major?


(layout stolen from sweaty -- well, the part you like anyway)

RIP: steve irwin 1962 - 2006

dude. i loved this guy. seriously. i don't care if the boy is calling me a dork.
a wife a two kids to pray for...

What happened to Steve Irwin is like being stabbed in the heart

Dr Geoff Isbister
Clinical toxicologist

**UPDATE** apparently the boy was calling me a dork not for liking the croc hunter but for blogging about his death...

TITS

i used to have a myspace (or why i will never be a dyke)

when people find out i'm online a lot they always say:

"oh do you have a myspace?"

and ya well i got one because everyone else had them and in order to comment you have to have one and there's the whole band thing whatever ya fuck it i'll get a stoopid myspace but i'm not personalizing it and i hate hearing one half of a conversation in the comments and having to go search for the other half on the other person's myspace page yada yada blah blah but yeah, i've got a mypsace. thanks for the fucking add.

but i fucking blew the shit up the other day. for a couple of reasons.

1. i hate myspace. stupid and limiting and hard to make pretty and no matter what those easy template changers say it always ends up looking like your aunt's house with the clutter you know the one with the "touch lamps" and the country hearts and bears?

2. i have a FUCKING BLOG people! who needs a fucking myspace page when i have a blog. also i have buzznet. so there are pictures there.

3. dykes are full of drama. -- this is the straw that broke the camel toe.

the other day you may remember i had a fucking emo post about friends and drama. well here's the story....

i have lesbian friends. i know i know conservatives aren't supposed to have carpet munchers for friends, pitt, but i do. lots of them. in fact it makes some question my sexual orientation. the only plausible suggestion i've heard thus far is that i'm trying to fuck myself straight.

i mean most of my dyke friends say that i would be a total dyke if i didn't like cock so much. the motorcycle, the tattoos the boots and on ad infinitum...

ah shit i digress here's the story about myspace. i was friends with dyke A. very good friends. and when i came back to town she had shacked up with dyke D.

awesome.

they're in love they're "married" they fight like all couples they live out in east bumfuck so visiting is a chore and turns into a 3 day affair usually. i love these dykes but they're fucking needy ass dykes -- a fact to which everyone will attest. they also tend to have a world of D.R.A.M.A around them at all times. who fucking knows why and i didn't care i loved them and saw them when i could.

i move back to california for a year and i don't call them. i'm a bad friend. blah blah blah i come back home. a year passes and i hear that the dykes have parted ways. dyke A (my original friend) claims to have gotten the shit end of the stick. dyke D has filed a restraining order. big fight, rocks through store windows gas tanks sugared who knows who to believe drama drama drama.

dyke A and i will always be friends. i call dyke D to find out about a FUCKING PUPPY i gave the two of them. (dammit i loved that puppy that's afuckingwholenother story) and we chat. she says maybe we can hang out i say i'd like that.

THIS IS THE POINT OF THIS RAMBLE: dyke D finds me through dyke A's myspace and posts a little "hi can't wait to hang out" in my comments. dyke A sees this and freaks. says dyke D is trying to take all her friends and sway them against her where's my loyalty yada yada blah blah. so she leaves a comment saying "i see dyke D left a message and you're going to hang.. be careful she has bad motives." or something very like that.

so these two dykes are restarting their breakup fight in my MYSPACE COMMENTS!!!

WTF?

so i blew it the fuck up. and i told both of them that i wasn't go to hang out with either of them because i prefer my life drama free. the end.