what should i say now that i've lost all creativity. back "home". it's only temporary, or so i keep telling myself. sometimes i don't know what i'm doing staying alive. sometimes i don't know why i quit drugs. really, what's the point? i feel every bullet now. every sting. every twinge of discomfort. takes a lot to get up these days. as we speak i' ( Read more... )

i'm on day 1.5 of quitting painkillers, while simultaneously suffering from a cold and coming off zoloft! sweet! i love living in america! expect lots of bitching!

 ah, i shall reunite with you, livejournal. i think it has been far too long. tumblr sucks.

 
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had a dream that i was giving mandy moore head.
that one will remain right up there on the charts.

 i have to get faggoty here and let you all know that i just bid on a vintage christian dior silk scarf on ebay, and won after a ruthless fight. $23.50, dudes, with FREE shipping. my girlfriend's gonna LOVE it.

hey, if i'm ever going to be like prince phillip, i'm going to have to perpetually kick it up a notch.

i hate being that asshole that has to be like,

"so, where do i stand? sorry, just wunderinnnnnnn..."

and then the girl is like,

"um, sorry i'm feelin' sum1 elssseeeeee"

and you're like,

"ok, great! awesome d00d! well that's all i wanted to know,  i'm a loser...have a really wonderful night, blah"

but i had to be that loser.
because what else do you say ( Read more... )

bea arthur is dead.

farah fawcett has ANAL cancer.

i might be feeling rather sorry for myself, but at least when i'm dead people won't be laughing at me...

well, ok, it's too soon to call.

rats. 

i'm in houston, texas.

i've found closure in finding

that my ex is a total burn out bitch.

i batted my eyes on a pulled out futon.

i sprung from its sheets with the sound

of sex from the next room over.

i called a friend and left in disgust.

this is called option-none.

i am done.