As I sit here drinking my Gatorade (aid?), smoking my bowl... I punch my guts inside and out for even sitting here one more night questioning writing, I will give you all my piece. No more withholding... no more. No more lies or sugars or preservatives or fluffers.
I think perhaps Whitney had it best... she had a lot of things best - bobby, crack, trills, vibrato, drama, gowns. We get the picture.But Whitney knew - Fuck all y'all mutha fuckin' haters. Why do you think Lil Kim is in jail? Hateration? Britney said it well too - "The better you get at being yourself, the more enemies you create."
The farce = I hate these bitches as much as the next guy.
The truth = I resent them for being better at getting and doing what they want out of life than my lame-O faggot ass.
This isn't a self-hate, or boo-hoo piece. This is a "let's-get-real-and-stop-cock-blocking-and-hating-on-each-other-because-we're-too-scared-to-be-ourselves" piece.
You can blow blow blow, but like eine Grimmes Brudern tale, you won't blow the house down, and "it'll take 'n'eternity to break us..."
"Where's Bobby!?!?"
Pass the crack, cuz yo shit is WACK.
BRING IT!
Currently listening : Party Animals By Turbonegro Release date: 23 August, 2005
Let us load you with fodder & truths so you feel a lot cooler than your less-informed peers.
31 December 2005
25 December 2005
Some times (Re-post)
As I sit here and listen to the sad songs of Maximilian Hecker, Teddy Bear Picnic, and the Radio Dept, my mind wanders to a different time. A different world. It blends past with present. Future with dream. Love with hate. And fact with fiction.I see something like Wharton's The Age of Innocence: we are unfulfilled and afluent.
Men retire to a smoking room after supper. Gloves, hats, and coats are collected and returned by servants on the ground level in the foyeur. We all load into carriages pulled by horses and tuck ourselves in while thinking of riding horses and summer houses in Rhode Island or the Virginias.
Love affairs happen in gardens. Kisses are stolen with closed mouths and nostrils full of sweet honeysuckle. Skirts conceal pain, and lockets keep secrets of wanting hearts and cursed unions.
Children laugh in the background. On the sidelines.
Business cards are left upon calling. Lunch dates can go horribly wrong.
The city is lovely in the winter.
Currently listening : Lesser Matters By Radio Dept Release date: 30 August, 2004
Men retire to a smoking room after supper. Gloves, hats, and coats are collected and returned by servants on the ground level in the foyeur. We all load into carriages pulled by horses and tuck ourselves in while thinking of riding horses and summer houses in Rhode Island or the Virginias.
Love affairs happen in gardens. Kisses are stolen with closed mouths and nostrils full of sweet honeysuckle. Skirts conceal pain, and lockets keep secrets of wanting hearts and cursed unions.
Children laugh in the background. On the sidelines.
Business cards are left upon calling. Lunch dates can go horribly wrong.
The city is lovely in the winter.
Currently listening : Lesser Matters By Radio Dept Release date: 30 August, 2004
19 December 2005
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