if i don't somehow manage to offend, disgust, shock, embarrass, terrify, alienate, and/or injure you, or make you feel "uncomfortable" we'll be great friends.
i git cranky at the sight or mere mention of any sort of fruit in heavy syrup. i despise celery, the most dastardly of all vegetables. i am an orphan anxiously awaiting the day i am adopted by millionaires. ideally, millionaires to whom celery is such an abomination, they will use their millionaire-ish ways to eradicate it's very crunchy, fibrous, icky existence.
i've decided to start drinking directly through my brain. this technique is in its infancy, and as such there's many a kink to be worked out (and as they indeed sang it best, 'i'm not like everybody else'!). . . i have also been down in the lab furiously working on ways to remove this meddlesome heart from my sleeve. looks like i may have to dispose of the whole blasted arm, or something, or move to new orleans and get rebuilt with vintage motorcycle parts, or somehow convince this town and its somewot strangely likeable inhabitants not to give up on me just yet, or something. i love you to death janine - telling me i've now got "nikki six's hair" was the funniest gem i've heard in almost an entire lifetime, although i'd truly love to watch the warriors again because that made me smile alot, too, and ever since i have become un-speak-to-able i've caught a case of the most dreadful insomnia ever, and i'd much rather be consumptive methinks. but really, i do clean up quite nicely when i'm not sickly and/or struck dumb with the "i simply don't know wot to do's". and i'll swear it on the honour of any boy scout that isn't simply terrified to death of me as i calmly dump drinkys on my head.
(im)practical mathematics: leopard print + orange soda + bed + (unknown) + those cherry italian ices = sleep for days!
i make ridiculous statements. run and hide!
reverie!
i wear my heart on my sleeve. run and hide!
olympic swimmer in a suicide ocean. opened up and bled, oh did i ever! give me a foreign car and i'll most certainly slam on the brakes. scout's honour. sometimes good gals do wear american flags, and i can assure you this digital dropout was nowhere near marty robbins when he um, expired.
run and hide!
"frantic romantic"
run and hide!
"a man who is of sound mind is one who keeps the inner madman under lock and key" -Paul Valery.
"Take care of luxuries and the necessities will take care of themselves."
"rags & bones & battered shoes"
"The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity."
"cuz imitation's boring"
"rationalise this pagaent of pigsties / definalise the unthinking grey skies / i'm sitting uneasy upon my throne of fears"
"i've been crowned by sorrow / i've been crowned by hate / i've been crowned in black, now i abdicate. . . "
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.
"nothing is true and everything is permitted"
"here's to the merry-go-round"
frock-abilly freakout on heels.
"i'm trouble, kid. don't encourage me." - mike hammer
