lisa (chicken-headed-bambi-killer)

i'm an overweight problem drinker—sweet baby jesus—and how!!! i like to drink, catch fireflies—kill them—and smear their carcasses across my face like glow in the dark war paint, spend obscene amounts of time wondering why robert downey jr. insists on pretending that "we" never happened, drool on pillows, build underwater sea monkey empires out of styrofoam balls, watch endless hours of other people playing warhammer, pick scabs, fantasize about the day the steve buscemi blow-up doll is released (my yanni doll has grown trite), place kittens in tall trees, attempt to do crossword puzzles simply to confirm my sneaking suspicion that I don't know nothin' bout nothin', wet the bed, and poke irritated children repeatedly with telescopic metal car antennas to further enrage them—i then sometimes slather their faces with boysenberry jam and tie them to trees in the woods to fend for themselves against hoards of rabid raccoons, or if i'm feeling saucy, i change into my superhero costume that i fashioned from the discarded dresses of broken-hearted vegas show girls and lead them to the roofs of tall buildings, where i convince them that i am going to show them how to fly, and tell them not to worry because i'll be right behind them—i always seem lose interest in this game, though, as soon as they step off the edge. appropriately, i moonlight as a unicorn by the name of sparkle-biscuit-sassy-pants in a white-asian fusion rap group called suck-butternut. i have only two regrets in life: not following my childhood ambition of becoming a rodeo clown (although i did spend the majority of my formative years wearing a wig made out of yarn and trying to entice what i thought were bulls-but were really small mongolian boys-into charging a red cape that i found behind a porno theater the day after halloween one year), and that i abandoned my first true love—the bearded lady—to follow the illusion of excitement that some flipper-limbed reference librarian spun out of outdated tiger beat magazines, only to find out in the end that kirk cameron's poodle hair was neither a perm, nor sexy in any convoluted definition of the term. seriously though, i couldn't have laughed more or had a better life. i have the most amazing friends, who have somehow forgiven me for all the times i sucked, and remembered me for all the times i haven't, and i love the hell out of every single one of them for a different reason. i wouldn't have made it through anything without them. oh yeah, and... . . . . . . . . "if you were to think of paired electrons as a married couple, a free radical would be an extremely seductive outsider." janice thompson and melinda manore (i love science textbooks).