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 Latest
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Diaryland |
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2004-02-18 - 8:53 p.m. god damn I just typed a whole shitload and accidently clicked on some shit and lost it........what a fucking ass clown of fuck up. Anyways, back to typing this shit again. So..... Mom's birfday was the other day. Got her a food dehydrator. We'll probably never use it, like all the other things my mother has taken "interest" in. It'll probably sit right next to the vegatable steamer I bought her that she used once that's pushed back into the clutter of the kitchen counter. Whatever. She's always like that, getting into shit and then all of a sudden......whush.......what are you talking about? Gathering dust in the garage or basement, or being used as a clothes rack. Ahhh......exercise equipment, don't get me started. My brother got her a foot spa for Christmas and she just opened that bitch up a week ago and still is covered in plastic. So, I thought a Birthday dinner was in order, but I was wrong. I fasted and everything, waiting anxiously for well-made food, probably italian....but no.....nada.....all I got was a piece of cake from my mother's "girl's night out" because my dad had to be at work to go to the RUTH CHRIS steakhouse or some shit with all his big wig work people. It's good to know I was the only one awaiting my mother's birthday in some fashion. We'll eat dinner as a family when my brother gets off next week. Something we rarely ever do. Yeah, so I planned my whole day around that, and that went through. I woke up too early, starved myself, sat around for that......so I decided to hop into the olde truck and drive. I was below E so it was a gas station I would have to go to. All them lawnmower gas fumes got me to the liquor store with the gas pumps amd I had a shit eating grin. Something about pushing the limits of your automobile....I could hear the engine having a hard time turning over. There's a certain fear and joy about coasting down hills and neutral and trying so desparately to find detours to avoid long traffic lights. God damn is gas expensive too. I would hate to deliver pizza now with $1.60 gas prices. Anyways, since my night got shot down.......it was a perfect time for drinking. Filled up that tank, 15 gallons of the finest unleaded liquor store gas station gas and a 30 pack of Genny Cream Ale, winner of the 2002 Beer world cup for best American Lager/ale or Cream Ale. Smoothness. I was damn tired last night. The drinking didn't help alleviate the drowsiness I'd imagine. I solo jammed with my tables a little while and then I decided to listen to a Joni Mitchell Live double LP I had. Then I followed that up with Jim Croce's "Photographs and Memories" I was sitting alone, in my basement, drinking beer half asleep thinking about how much of a pussy I was listening to Joni Mitchell and Jim Croce. That pretty much set the mood. Fruity. I only drank 6 beers before passing out to "Operator" and that makes me feel even more like a pussy. I gotta make that up tonite by getting thoroughly shit-faced and try to make a mix of something. Fuck, this day has been pretty much shot too. I filled out for direct deposit for work, but that shit hasn't taken effect, so basically, I got like 3 checks at the end of the week just chillin' at work. I just went around driving, listening to Dre's "The Love Below" drinking Blueberry oolong tea, which was no longer on sale. These two days have been very solitary for me. It's both good and bad in a way, which doesn't make much sense, but let's just say my days off have been EH. Everett and Kristen stopped by and gave me a tshirt for Valentine's day and it says FULL SIZE OR NO SIZE on it and a big red truck. I don't know what other shirt can fill my life's philosophy so well....... They got a big DEEBO ASS DOG now. It's a "Malamute" named Abbe, but I just call every dog, "DAAAAWWwwwwwwwwwggggggg" and this "DAAAAWWwwwwwwwwwggggggg" really is just a small man in a dog suit. It's one of those dogs. Well mannered. I wish I had a damn pet. I probably wouldn't be listening to Joni Mitchell and Jim Croce if I did. I'd be throwing sticks and drinking from a jug, whittling. My lips are as dry as a mutha fucka, it's not like they're chapped or flaky, they are completely dry.....like both lips total.....dry like Tyrone the crackhead dry lips. If you haven't seen the "I'M RICK JAMES BITCH shit on the Chappelle show, you're missing one of the best stories ever told. http://www.betterhollywood.com watch out for it, it's coming soon.
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