I'M SICK AND THE DOG IS RESTLESS

and cuter...

than me.

A SAFETY IS WORTH TWO POINTS

at first i thought post secret was amazing.

i still do... in some ways... however, i find much of the self-absorption a bit disturbing. but then again, what is blogging but just another expression of ME ME ME.

but people cannot save each other... we must all save ourselves.

LET THIS BE THE END

okay, i admit that here on 'that could have been me not me' (thank you, david cross) i shy away from reality. it's so mundane. so trivial.

but i must rant for a moment about something real. and i can't believe i'm even posting this but FOR GOD'S SAKE COULD SOMEONE PLEASE REMOVE PARIS HILTON FROM THIS PLANET?

this ubiquitous vapid pathetic excuse for a human being has sullied pop culture quite enough. recently, she was caught on tape laughing away while friend, and grandson of late billionaire marvin, brandon davis trashed lindsay lohan in the most puerile disgusting ridiculous manner. i would print a quote but my mother reads this. i will say one word, though, 'firecrotch'. from what i've read mr davis' major accomplishment in life seems to be an arrest for drunk driving. oh, and screwing mischa barton.

when will we stop worshipping these hideous mean-spirited assholes who work for nothing, are given everything and give nothing back but staggering proof that the world is going to hell in a handbasket?

paris makes me embarrassed to be a female. no wonder so many men think so little of women.

EYE TO EYE, MAINTAIN THE ILLUSION

so, like, today i totally went to the messageboard of my most favorite band to find out if the singer is going out with anyone because i just KNOW if he's not he will most definitely wanna go out with me!!! i mean, that's the way it works, right? RIGHT! he is MINE!

i mean, i know that when he sees me in the audience with my 'i heart alexei' t-shirt on he is going to look me right in the eye and it will be love at first sight! how could he resist? i mean, i am his number one fan and stuff! i can just see it... after the show he will send his tour manager out into the audience to single me and only me out and he will, like, lead me to the backstage area where alexei will fall to his one knee and propose.

because that is the way it happens when you express your feelings for the lead singer of your favorite band on your favorite band's message board. TRUE LOVE, PEOPLE!!!

yankee candle that goes best with not being 12 anymore: password to larkspur lane

YOU'RE OUT ON A LIMB, YOU'RE SINKING TO SWIM

when you were just a young girl and still in school
how come you never learned the golden rule
don't talk to strange men, don't be a fool
i'm hearing stories, i dont think that's cool

testify, rick springfield!

i do wonder, though. what happens when we close ourselves off to the world and the randomness of strangers? are strangers really friends we haven't met, or as i suspect, further proof of the pestilence that is humanity? how do we let ourselves be touched by unique experiences while retaining a wariness that i think is our god given right. well, i would think that if i believed in god.

maybe that's my problem. i'm a godless heathen.

love your brother, love one another. i'm sure i heard that in a song somewhere.

yeah. a bad one.

CATCH THE SUN BEFORE IT'S GONE

you told me we'd live in the shadows
you told me to hide from the light
and the last thing you said keeps running through my head
just don't take my car out tonight
--- the hooters

listening to this song reminds me of the superfun time i had shopping in chicago. my friend took me to oprah's bra store where they could not fit me because i'd had too many implants. why is life like that!!! i'm writing to oprah. she is going to pay!

speaking of oprah, i really wish she would just save the fucking world already. her legends ball is on tonight. i'm so totally going to watch!!

i bought some shirts at h&m and i'm running out of money.

yankee candle that goes best with fiscal irresponsibility: in hollyhock

IF YOU SAID JUMP IN THE RIVER I WOULD

how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?

how many days does it take to get over a man?

how many times did i really feel nothing but said i meant everything?

how many barks does it take to say i'm sorry?

how many bowls of cereal does it take to feel full?

i want some answers, damnit.

and i want them now.

SHE WAITS PATIENTLY

i have been gone so long i've forgotten who i am!

once a dedicated writer whose ideals and yankee candle fetish ran rampant throughout the blogosphere as i shot my gun, blazed my trail, spat out my bullets of wit and yet the laughter was quiet, muted, my reign not very rainy - bit more like drizzle, you see...

but i am not here to feed the masses, more the misses, more myself. i eat spicy popcorn and watch bad movies and wait with baited breath to see what will become of luke and lorelai.

and who would have ever thought that killing an arab would mean something so different?

don't cry for me, l'étranger. the truth is i never left you.