I updated my Twitter by cell phone this morning, I dunno why.
omshizznit Barbara & Clan sent us housewarming gifts!!!!! They totally rule but you can’t see them yet because I’m too lazy to upload & edit & all that perfectionist hooey… she sent the most beloved gift… an official NHL Calgary Flames hockey puck. FUCK. We’re blissin’. I want to hang it off the ceiling fan we’re gonna invest in, along with all the other ultimately awesome infinitably hangable stuff, but, well… I’ve been informed it’d look too much like living in an insane crib with control over the on/off switch on the mobile. I don’t want to live in a home of insane babies. Again.
I like it when people at work owe me big favors. You know that shit’s gonna pay off brilliantly, baby. I had to deliver a pair of shoes to this art gallery down the street for this chick who’s a friend of the daughter of a co-worker, what kind of fucked up shit is that… but man, the place was, like, omg… I thought I’d been thrown back to the BAD 70’s. Dudes in polyester wide-lapelled polyester shirts and polyester pants & the polyester tie… it was leisure suit hell. Those art gallery folks, I don’t think I want their drugs. Anymore.
Jen sent me down memory lane tonight with some mental ramblings from this guy she wanted to hook up with… hahah… just kidding. She’s not his type, which is a good thing ‘cuz Jen’s real, ya know? He’s a sick predator. What it kicked off for me is my renewed complete disdain for revisionism.
If you don’t wanna talk about something, don’t talk about it. Simple. And for the love of anything sacred, don’t re-write history in the hopes of justifying or pumping up your life… it IS what it IS, deal with it/fix it/fuck it up, whatever…
But when you lie about your past? You invalidate other people who played a part in that segment of your life. I wanna yank his junk off with my own (heavily gloved) hands & feed them to him in a “mental illness” frenzy.
fuckstick.


