Responsible.
I am responsible now... I used to cry myself to sleep, wishing I could pay rent and buy groceries. I wanted nice things. Now, as I sit in a cafe, sipping a spicy chai and typing on my MacBook Pro, I recognize how my wants have shifted.
I was watching a movie the other night, where a character had practically every bone in her body smashed in some awful accident. As she sat in her hospital bed, morphine constantly dripping into her blood stream, I wished I had an excuse to be on morphine all day. Maybe in some sort of terrorist attack, where I lay out the bad guys and save the world, or at least the building.
I used to love opiates and hanging out, but now- I can't. I have to stay focused, but for what? Success? Presence? I just watched 2012 and I realize success is pretty pointless. However, like other rappers before me, I must get dat paper, y'all. Sure, I would rather be euphorically itchy all over while I tried, but then I yell at cats for "talking" too much.
I'm working on a book, but don't tell anyone... I don't want to subject myself to public ridicule. I was writing jokes, but then I lost the page I was working on, so I picked up some opiates and now am havein fuhn. Don't know what all these small townsie people are looking at... like their ticks don't make them itchie... I could have ticks, what do they know? One thing definitely havein: FUUUUUUUUUhhhhHHhhhn. I should go some where and masturbate.
OH THANK GOD THERE IS A NEW NOTIFICATION IN FACEBOOK!
Showing posts with label facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label facebook. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Murder Me Not
Seeing all these beautiful strangers on Facebook with their beautiful pictures helps me to see why people kill.
"When I see her, Audrey doesn't even acknowledge me, but I swear she's looking right at me in her pictures... she knows I love that blouse! I will MAKE her watch a movie with me!"
Sometimes, I think that people want to murder me, but I am too smart and slick. I use coconut oil on my skin so bad guys can't keep a grip and good guys can't get enough. I will tell you when the latter happens... thus far, it has only attracted young, Jimmy Buffet types. [insert "penis"colada pun]
Also, I'm too damn smart. Most murder victims are straight dummies.
Sometimes, I wish someone would just try and bring me bodily harm (rape joke) so I could go all Crouching Tiger and shit. I have never taken martial arts, but I am very intuitive and flexible.
Maybe I shouldn't say that I spend energy getting into imaginary fights with three big muthah fuckahs... and I really wont say that all the people who, I feel, have ever slighted me are there to witness it (ALL OF THEM). Brings up too many plot holes for my pragmatic mind (even my naughty fantasies are about catching my bus on time and not being bothered at all- bother just gets in the way [insert pic of vag and audio clip of dried leaves being crushed under the weight of a firm step]).
BACK TO GAPS IN PLOT:
What are they all doing there? Why am I wearing head-to-toe black latex? Am I married yet?
I am reasonable and so I will reason that:
a) they all follow my success and simultaneously came around to win favor.
b) I was at a photo shoot.
c) a lot.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you are a prospective employer, I encourage you to recognize that my tongue is so embedded in my cheek that I can't even talk anymore- just type... so send me any further questions via e mail.
Regards,
Abbey
"When I see her, Audrey doesn't even acknowledge me, but I swear she's looking right at me in her pictures... she knows I love that blouse! I will MAKE her watch a movie with me!"
Sometimes, I think that people want to murder me, but I am too smart and slick. I use coconut oil on my skin so bad guys can't keep a grip and good guys can't get enough. I will tell you when the latter happens... thus far, it has only attracted young, Jimmy Buffet types. [insert "penis"colada pun]
Also, I'm too damn smart. Most murder victims are straight dummies.
Sometimes, I wish someone would just try and bring me bodily harm (rape joke) so I could go all Crouching Tiger and shit. I have never taken martial arts, but I am very intuitive and flexible.
Maybe I shouldn't say that I spend energy getting into imaginary fights with three big muthah fuckahs... and I really wont say that all the people who, I feel, have ever slighted me are there to witness it (ALL OF THEM). Brings up too many plot holes for my pragmatic mind (even my naughty fantasies are about catching my bus on time and not being bothered at all- bother just gets in the way [insert pic of vag and audio clip of dried leaves being crushed under the weight of a firm step]).
BACK TO GAPS IN PLOT:
What are they all doing there? Why am I wearing head-to-toe black latex? Am I married yet?
I am reasonable and so I will reason that:
a) they all follow my success and simultaneously came around to win favor.
b) I was at a photo shoot.
c) a lot.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you are a prospective employer, I encourage you to recognize that my tongue is so embedded in my cheek that I can't even talk anymore- just type... so send me any further questions via e mail.
Regards,
Abbey
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Marriage Balls Be Ringing
I see a lot of signs in San Francisco. "Free Wi-Fi" "Cash Only" and a bunch of variegated marriage propaganda.
Come on people, if God wanted a man to marry a man, why would HE make wedding dresses be so pretty?! Further more, if a man were allowed to marry a man- what's to say he won't want to marry a refrigerator or a down comforter?! I mean even I, a straight as starch gal, have found myself questioning my sexuality around a down comforter.
Just the other night, I was all bound and gagged getting stuffed from behind by a man (like God intended) and just as I was about to cum all over his fist and forearm, I looked at the comforter. There was definitely a moment there where I could see us walking down the isle. I shook it off of course, because the thing's all white and no blanket is going to upstage me on MY big day!
I knew this one guy, in grammar school and he was always sucking on penises because his parents said it was okay. When he turned 18 he left his boyfriend of 7 months to elope with a tire iron. No one knows where he even met a tire iron! He had always been drawn to guys who were a bit dangerous, so a tire iron probably felt like the next step. Was he born hard for tools? or was it brought on by the media? He probably ate some bad shellfish and became this evil-faggy-tool-shed-closet-hound. The point is: it's not nice to point or be gay just because you FEEL like it.
My friends are all pretty liberal and I hate that! Do I hate them or their beliefs? I don't know either, but I do know that I hate almost all of their status updates, mostly because they don't "like" mine enough. Also, when we're having conversations they want to talk too, about themselves- how selfish! Even if I'm doing most of the talking, it's about other people so they should just get over it and comment on my status more.
To bring the point home, I don't see what the big deal around marriage is anyway- who cares?! I mean, especially if all you have are tuxedos?! I want to get married, but that's just because I like dressing up, gifts and owning people.
Come on people, if God wanted a man to marry a man, why would HE make wedding dresses be so pretty?! Further more, if a man were allowed to marry a man- what's to say he won't want to marry a refrigerator or a down comforter?! I mean even I, a straight as starch gal, have found myself questioning my sexuality around a down comforter.
Just the other night, I was all bound and gagged getting stuffed from behind by a man (like God intended) and just as I was about to cum all over his fist and forearm, I looked at the comforter. There was definitely a moment there where I could see us walking down the isle. I shook it off of course, because the thing's all white and no blanket is going to upstage me on MY big day!
I knew this one guy, in grammar school and he was always sucking on penises because his parents said it was okay. When he turned 18 he left his boyfriend of 7 months to elope with a tire iron. No one knows where he even met a tire iron! He had always been drawn to guys who were a bit dangerous, so a tire iron probably felt like the next step. Was he born hard for tools? or was it brought on by the media? He probably ate some bad shellfish and became this evil-faggy-tool-shed-closet-hound. The point is: it's not nice to point or be gay just because you FEEL like it.
My friends are all pretty liberal and I hate that! Do I hate them or their beliefs? I don't know either, but I do know that I hate almost all of their status updates, mostly because they don't "like" mine enough. Also, when we're having conversations they want to talk too, about themselves- how selfish! Even if I'm doing most of the talking, it's about other people so they should just get over it and comment on my status more.
To bring the point home, I don't see what the big deal around marriage is anyway- who cares?! I mean, especially if all you have are tuxedos?! I want to get married, but that's just because I like dressing up, gifts and owning people.
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