str8 hail

So my dog is going in for her spaying surgery tomorrow, and I am nervous!~!~!

I don’t want her to die, and I just get the feeling she might.  I mean, it is in a barn, technically.  Sort of, I guess, not so much, BUT, they also work on farm animals.  Cows and the like.  Seems like a professional outlet UNTIL.-.–.-…~~city confidential

So I worry there will be a mix-up with the tranquilizers and they’ll end up overdosing her.  Or just a routine mess-up that kills her.  She’ll probably be fine though, logic just dictates that.  It is something all vets perform, probably a lot, so no big deal.

It is also going to cost me a lot of money.  Ehhhhhhhh.  I wish I could just do it myself.  I’ve been grooming her myself, just let me rent a scalpel, one of those Elizabethan collars, and some anti-bleeding powder, I’ll

GIT ”GRRRR”’ DONE

or dun
whatevs

I came up with a pretty clever punword, but I’m afraid to tell anyone for fear that they’ll use it themselves for something that gets famous or important, and I’ll be wearing a sandwich board and a barrel w/ suspenders for a shirt in a year’s time, telling teenage girls that I was the one who really came up with that damn word and that i’ll buy them some Malibu flavored rum if they’d only tell me that I’m clever and then punch me in the stomach as hard as you can girls come on

I was so excited about Netflix for about a month, but now I’ve had the same copy of Motel Hell/Deranged out for the past uhhhh month

Motel Hell was alright, Deranged was alright.  Deranged actually was better, just because the corpses used were pretty good.  I think probably not realistic, but I don’t like realism.  The less realistic, the better.  I like dreamy, totally false, impossible-looking things.  Fantastical, I suppose.  Claymation, real props, that sort of thing.  LOOOOOL H8N CGI s0oo0ooOOo00 2006

i still fight the good fights

MIA was on Real Time, and her opinion on some large civil war in her “country of origin”, which really seemed to be moreso her country of ethnic background, because wikipedia tells me that she was born in the UK (soooo) was ehhh

to be fair, what should I care what MIA has to say unless it is about where I can score some weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeds

which by the way i haven’t came anywhere near having in over a year
mostly because i have not had friends since then and i think i seem very ” upstanding citizen ” at work so no one under the age of 40 would think im cool enough not to be a narc or a evangelist or something :_(

they are probably right to think that , i’m like doris day when i am there

ahhggghhhh i am sooo B~O~R~E~D

thrill kill kult might’ve broken up
n o  o n e  k n o w s . . . . .

some lady in my lane at work the other day had a retarded son that at first I thought was normal
then he started talking
and I was like ahhhh, that explains the eyebrows

he was like, 40
she was probably 60 or so
I can’t imagine a worse thing, then to be taking care of some large child who is sort of incapable of gratitude until you are dead……………………..i’d be all like, “doc get this thing OUTTA me!” and then it’d be settled.  Or, I’d just Kennedy it.  Put them in a nice facility somewhere, never to bring down the rest of us at vacations.  You know you’d always have to dumb down vacations, too.  You could never tour a museum, it would always have to revolve around childthings.  Disney, amusement parks…it would definitely blow, in large and small ways.  I talk too much about how much I’d hate to have a mentally disabled child, it really seems either dickish, or I’m trying to talk fate out of giving me one by threatening to treat it really badly.  I’ve pretty much said that a lot, one of my favorite gags when the subject of having a retarded kid comes up (which it does often wthhhhh) is to say “I’ll just keep getting rid of them until you give up the lesson, god.” and i look up at the sky and make a gunpoint

I think you “”"Get The Picture!!!”

it usually gets a laugh

but yeah if there is a god i am deeeefinitely having a disabled kid  :__(

anyway, her son was disabled, but she was a bitch!

It came to the end of her transaction and when she swiped her card and the terminal asked her (briefly, it defaults to English) if she wanted Spanish or English, she sezzz:
“There is only one language.  This is still Uhmerca.”

Meanwhile, her son is squealing about a football shaped thermos and her methy daughter, baby in tow, keeps saying “Why come” about cheez-its or something

I’m like, lady. come on.  don’t even.  what makes you think:
1) i want to hear your words/participate in a conversation/be aware of your opinion on anything outside of cordiality?  I don’t drop shit like that at strangers.  I don’t tell your twangy ass that I wish we could salt the Earth that bore you and yours, and never speak of that region of UMERCA again, right?  I don’t suggest that maybe you should’ve stopped breeding after the first one came out so shit, correct?  I don’t say anything like that, because I live in a society.
2) what you are speaking barely registers as English, and you know it, but you revel in your regional speech, or else…you wouldn’t do it.  I imagine we were born in around the same area, yes?  I don’t speak like you, my family doesn’t speak with you, and no one I really interact with on a substantial level in this area speaks like you.  I know it isn’t impossible, you just think you’re all the more ‘real’ for it, don’t you?  Get out.
3) Have you ever been outside of this much vaunted America of yours?  Had you ever been, I trust that you’d understand how difficult it is to be in a country where the primary language is not your native tongue–the language you’ve used since birth.  Even if a Spanish-speaking immigrant comes to this country with years and years of English language study under their belt, they’re STILL going to be more comfortable using Spanish–just as you or I would be more comfortable using English in France, even if we spoke French well enough to get by as citizens there, we’d still be so grateful to get the chance to fully understand what was coming up on a screen over there.  Do you get that?  Does it make sense?  How does it hurt you, to make others more comfortable in alien situations?  I certainly hope you don’t consider yourself a religious person.  Who would Jesus insist speak exclusively AHNNGLISH?
4) You have no idea who I am.  For all you know, I am Chilean.  Or my husband’s Mexican.  I didn’t say much to you; maybe Spanish is my primary language?  What should that matter?  What made you so certain that you had a anglo-confidante, a sympathetic ear,  in me?  I suppose I am pretty obviously Caucasian, but even still–there are plenty of people in Latin America, or shit, in Spain, who look just like me.  Even if you knew for a fact that I was nothing but a Northern European cur, that still doesn’t mean you get to have a shitty opinion stew with me.

I am weak though, I said nothing. Nothing at all.  I just let my face fall, gave her a receipt, and told her to have a nice day.  There is no changing people, and the cashier at her local area Walmart isn’t going to make her rethink her position on the Spanish language being available as an option at bank machines, nothing would.

I just don’t like people, and I probably never will.  Someday I’ll just have a nice little world, all to myself, with a mate who agrees with me on this sort of thing or at least humors me and pretends to, and some kids that will be forced to agree with me all the time or else they don’t get to have xboxes, and we’ll live out in the woods, declare ourselves a sovereign nation.  We’ll call it Groovy Gritch, and the teens will make out there, but when the FBI storms the place, the teens, they will be gone.  Scattered like dreams, like dust in the w i n d . . .

yeah thats it, the ticket is right there, the ticket 2 riIide

i’d probably be a lot happier in a place where most people at least wouldn’t think i was a witch if they had any idea what sorts of things I agreed with

So Indiana is more or less o-u-t

ho hum, that milwaukee move is either going to be SOON or MUCH LATER or NEVER, it all depends on the job decisions of another guy, who is indecisive

my grandmother, uncles, and dad all are technically going to be canadian citizens in a matter of months or something

My grandma was forced to renounce her Canadian citizenship as a kid, while Canada was doing that thing where you had to not be Canadian anymore in order to become an American, or something…anyway, they are reinstating hers, and offering citizenship to her children as well.  Not her grandchildren though.  SharXxxxxxXXx

i think i’d really like canada
or anywhere
I really should’ve never been in such a hurry to leave london
I mean for real I had the chance to uhhhhh totally live the rest of my life there

my dad had a job that was in no danger of not being around, and he was quite comfortable, and everything there was just so much better than it is here.

why did I bother coming back, what is here for me that I couldn’t find anywhere else, in more quantity and with more quality?

i came back for my friends, and to finish high school.  for what?  what has all of that gotten me?  I haven’t spoken to any of those friends in shit, maybe a year?  All those precious people that I had to leave one of the most ____ cities in the world for?  The people who I couldn’t stand to look at months after graduation?  The ones I still liked, where are they?  I don’t know, haven’t bothered to look.

And school, who gives a shit. I could’ve gone to a community college over there, started off on a path of doing some lame bullshit.  I could’ve worked at the Asda for christsakes, pretty much directly what I’m doing, just in a more fun, awesome, full-of-things place.

whatever.  we have to live with every stupid little decision we make, and as far as they go, coming back the united states to finish my senior year of high school hardly ranks up there with unwed teenage mother sooooo

well now i’m just angry and tired

all that griping tuckered me out

i’m pretty excited about ______
it is sure to be awesome

I really need to return Motel Hell/Deranged.
I am expected an assortment of Things in the mail, that is always nice.

I get paid in like, another week.  That will be Nice.
I found someone on Soulseek with a whole bunch of old Hammer Film soundtracks.  That is NIce.
Oh yeah, best of all, the soundtrack to Vengeance of She.  Now I want to see the movie; although I’m sure it sort of blows, in ways that I find acceptable, but blowage none-the-less.  NICe.
I have tomorrow off.  NICE.
I have wanted a root beer all day, but I haven’t had root beer in years.  Maybe I’ll get some root beer tomorrow, after I drop Taffy off.  Maybe I’ll go all the way to Sonic, and try one of their million different drinks.  I like drinks.  I wish I had some way of just stocking my entire home with drink and drink accessories.  yeah

that is

the

d r e a m
c’est une reve
into the grave

Tags: i might be moving to a different area than my current area, things i've done, wishes are fishes