addiction?

my hand smells like inside him.

why can't you believe me when i lie to you?

gave in again this morning. regardless how annoyed i am about the situation, morning wood pretty much trumps everything.

maybe i'm not as far from shallow as i'd like to think. guess i don't necessarily have to like someone to love them.

i find myself staring blankly off into the distance when he talks. why bother listening? i can't believe a word he says anyway. he could tell me the sky was blue and i'd still have to look out the window. you know, just to make sure.

Why'd this make me laugh?

Florida teen finds rocks in Nintendo DS box

by Ben Silverman

Buzz up!

April 27 2:53 P.M.

Jodi Wykle knew her son would be thrilled when she gave him a new Nintendo DS for his birthday.

Instead, he was rocked.

According to WTSP-TV, the confused teen opened up his gift only to find bunch of stones and a rolled up Chinese newspaper in place of the popular handheld.

All I got was a rock.

Needless to say, mom was equally stunned.

"When he opened it, he was pulling the seal off, my sister-in-law carries a pocket knife and she opened it and that's when he pulled it out and it was Chinese newspaper and a bunch of rocks," she explained.

The troubling discovery prompted the Florida woman to contact the local Wal-Mart where she bought the curious box and complain, but reportedly workers there told her it wasn't their problem and that she should contact Nintendo instead. Of course, Nintendo told her roughly the same thing, leaving mother and son with a $138 box of rocks.

"They don't want to do nothing. They want me to keep the box of rocks. I'm not buying a box of rocks for $138," she said.

Amazingly enough, however, Wal-Mart soon caved after learning that the same box of rocks had been previously returned by another disgruntled customer. How exactly it made it back onto store shelves remains a mystery, but for her troubles, Wykle was given a full refund and a $20 gift card.

It's not the first time Wal-Mart has gotten into hot water for selling a questionable handheld. Earlier this month, a PSP system bought at a different Wal-Mart store in Florida was found to contain a memory stick filled with pornographic images.

I think it's time

I need to move on with my life. I'm not sure where that will leave J but I know it will be difficult to balance this imaginary life we have going for ourselves and branching out and doing my thing but it will be something I have to do. For both our sakes. I now understand that every touch, every kiss, every blow and fuck was just another way to not rock the boat. You don't love me. You love having a roof over your head that isn't 50 miles away. You love not having to worry about public transportation while I bend and twist my schedule around to suite you. You love the constant companionship while you look for that man who you really want to spend the rest of your life with.

I'm tired of this game of pretend. I'm tired of never feeling good enough for you. I'm tired of looking like the pathetic asshole while you dance through life telling any and everyone whatever it is they need to hear so things go good for you.

Did I really get omitted from the accident story? And for what reason?

I'm not angry. I'm disappointed. Not in him. He acted exactly as expected. I'm disappointed in myself for allowing myself to be wrapped around the finger of a guy who is only worried about his own needs, unless it's to prove a point.

I just don't know what my next move will be. A small part of me would like to revert and enact revenge but I don't think I'm that person anymore.

I said "think".

Hot damn the places I wanna put my tongue on this man's body.

Damien Crosse. Chicago baseball cap. Nuff said.

Bear Grylls balls

I love Bear vs. Wild. There's something about a man that will swim butt ass naked in antartica then rip open a raw fish and eat it with his bear teeth.

Sneak Peak Justice League : Cry for Justice

YO JOE!

How the hell did I miss this? Click on the blog title for the Wired Article about the PG-13 rated tv movie.

a little perspective

We almost died coming home after spending the weekend celebrating J's birthday with his family in the boonies. It happened so fast all I know for certain is I'm driving on the express way heading home at the usual 15 mph over the speed limit. Fast, but not at all reckless. In fact most of the cars around me were pretty much keeping the same speed. I'm completely sober by the way. I look over at the passenger side mirror and all I see of a car coming at us so closely and fast is their driver side mirror. I'm not sure if he sideswiped me or if I moved to get out of his way but I lose control of Bertha and she starts swerving from one end of the express way to the other. The back end was just as totaled as the front which ended up smashed into the guard rail so I'm thinking another car must have hit me from behind while I was swerving cause we started spinning out for like five complete rotations with on coming traffic swerving to miss us and are finally stopped violently by the guard rail.

My seat was so far back from J's older/younger brother using my car to drop off his friends that morning that the air bag barely grazed my face. He may have saved my life. I open my eyes and all I see is the smashed wind shield on J's side and for a moment I couldn't bring myself to look over to make sure he was ok. We both got out with only a few scraps and bruises but the asshole who started the whole thing just kept going.

I could be dead. I could have killed so many people when I lost control of Bertha. I could have killed J. With the damage to Bertha we are extremely lucky to be alive. To not have hurt anyone else. I don't know if it's necessarily some long bearded white man sitting on a throne in the sky but there was something looking out for us during those moments. God, Allah, Karma, who knows? I don't care either. I'm just thankful to be alive.

thank god for online shopping.

this is why i hate shopping. especially with women. especially with my mother and sister.

tell me lies

"I'm not gonna tell him anything real about me but he can know all about the pretend me."

A comment so seemingly innocent but so telling at the same time. Where do I fit into your land of make believe? How much of what you tell me is simply a part of the imaginary life you've written out for yourself?

White lies so meaningless and petty. Are you that unhappy in your own skin? Are you that unhappy next to me?

Why do I have to back track when someone asks me what I did last night and look like the asshole because for whatever reason you had already told them you were out doing something else with someone else while your sitting at my side? Is it that bad that you're "friends" know you spend your evenings with me?

The doors open. You're free to do whatever you want. All I ask is that you don't make me look stupid. For some reason that's always been a harder task for you than I thought it should be.

oh wow....

Did Rob Zombie really just rip off Friday the 13th in trying to give Michael Myers a motivation for his killings just so he can give his hoe bag wife another job? Really?

I always feel like somebody's watching meeeeeee

I can literally feel his eyes on the computer screen behind my back as I'm typing. I'm being completely serious. Good thing I know his eye sight isn't good enough to read this far away.

I already spent most of my day driving around the old and the invalid to and from their physical therapy appointments only to come home and not be able to sit down and watch my stories. My "awesome driving skills" (as he so ball-lickingly put it) were needed to beat the sunset so he could take pictures for the real estate agency he part-times for. I love how well he attaches himself to my sack and just swings off them for the duration of the favor he needs from me.

Four hours later I'm back home catching up on television spoilers, internet porn, and super poking straight guys I fucked in high school, and grammar school, and with every damn click of the mouse I have to explain what I'm looking at. "Anything good?" "How bout now?"

Muthafucker how bout I let you know if I come across anything I deem important to your knowing?

He finally manages to annoy me off the computer with his fifth time suggesting we watch InfoMania. Funny how full of helpful ways to internet he is when I'm at the keyboard.

So I sit down and play text message therapist for my friend Bernie who'se dealing with some serious man issues of her own and I get a new text. From him. From the couch. Right next to me.

Seriously?

Why is a four hour silence acceptable when he's checking his myspace and downloading music and chatting but the moment I get in front of the screen he manages to position himself somewhere behind me so he can keep an eye on what I'm doing?

Have I mentioned how completely unattractive hypocrisy is in those I choose to surround myself with?

When the hell did I get married? Oh yeah, when I agreed to let him move in.

Thanks, Bobby.

I love me a dirty white boy.

Got a new man crush on UFC fighter and host of MTV's Bully Beatdown, Jason "Mayhem" Miller. Always had a thing for the hot and slightly brain damaged. Easier to manage with minimum drama. All you have to do is turn on cartoon network and they're entertained for hours, freeing you up for errands and household chores.

Why has the possibility of getting my ass kicked always intrigued me? Maybe those are just my daddy issues showing. I think too much when I'm sober.

Happy Birthday J!

My sister and the new boyfriend, I like to call him "Not Mario", got the roomie this mini light up hookah for his birthday earlier this week. Picture provided by my friend Bernie. Notice the Snickers ice cream cake on the table with the horrible icing writing. "Hurry Grandma, Grandma's gaining on us."

Super Size Me

I was pointing and laughing at the pictures from the Glitterati's "fat girl Gucci photo shoot", as it has come to be known in the man cave whenever we need a giggle, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I should talk. I'M GETTING FAT!!!!

Not sure what it is about this new stuff I've been getting lately but I've been munching like I've never eaten before. I'm talking about fried chicken drumstick in my mouth while I'm waiting for a pizza to come out the toaster oven and my cookies to finish baking with one hand in a bowl of potato chips and the other holding a bacon wrapped hot dog. I never got the munchies. What the hell?

And here I just canceled my membership to the gym. Damn economy. I need a new guy.



Either that or I just needed a good reason to throw in this pic I just found. Bon apetittie.

Battle for the Cowl

Just finished reading issue #2 of Battle for the Cowl. Dick Grayson is on the verge of deciding to don the cowl and become Batman himself after the apparent death of Bruce Wayne. Loving the Selina Kyle/Tim Drake in another Batman getup scenes and what a little asshole Bruce's supposed son Damian is. Must read. Check out the connected cover art for issues 1-3 below.



Click on the blog title for a pretty cool blog that attempts to decipher last summers DC's teaser image for the series. Please don't let it be Barabara Gordan dead in the box. Let it be Cassandra the mute psychotic Batgirl. She never fit in.

One of Us. One of Us.

First the Godfather. Now Gavin Rossdale. Told ya only difference between a straight boy and a gay guy is a 6 pack. Click on the blog title for the In Touch article outing him. Dirty bastards.

I wanna be a Kardashan!

Why couldn't I have been born a Kardashian? I like the big amazon one the best.

Was it something I said?

The roomie was torturing me last night during the ride home from his birthday dinner with his new Lady Ga Ga CD. He playfully (and drunkenly) looks over at me and sings along that loving me was "like cherry pie" to which I respond:

"Loving you is like a razor blade filled pie with an arsenic laced crust."

We rode the rest of the way in silence.

He later showed me this video that cemented my hatred for the retarded lil whore. I hope it'll do the same for you. Warning. The following is extremely annoying.



Lady Gaga makes me think of what would happen if Christina Aguilera got hit with black kryptonite.

The Bastardization of our City Continues

We already have the highest sales tax in the country. Not to mention potholes big enough to mistake for underground parking garages. We couldn't even fully enjoy the honor of having the first black President come from Chicago due to that victory being quickly eclipsed by the city's political corruption, and Blagojevich's hair.
Now they're renaming the Sears Tower the Willis Tower?

I completely understand this as a business decision, but being born and raised in the Chi, this just feels wrong.

I didn't look out the third floor window of my elementary school day dreaming as I stared off at the Willis Tower. I didn't use the Willis Tower as a compass to figure out which way I was going when I first learned to drive. I don't have any warm and fuzzy memories about going to the Willis Tower observation deck with my grandparents as a child.

Little by little it seems like what made this such a great city to live is being stripped away. Who cares about the Willis Tower? Who's gonna even bother visiting it when it costs about five bucks in quarters to meter park any where around it? And while we're at it, fuck you US CELLULAR FIELD. Fuck you.

JAI HO!

I love this song but anytime this plays at work I can't help but picture the office splitting in half to expose the elaborate bollywood movie set behind it and the boss and bros dancing around in their native Indian garb of outfits from Disney's Aladdin. Then Aurora comes in full Princess Jasmin singing on an elephant.

That can be considered a little racist, can't it?

hmmm...

i wonder why this made me think of my roommate.

Delusion and Denial

So I'm killing time playing Mafia Wars on MySpace and downloading porn when I get an IM from one of the Glitterati. He/She informs me with the subtly of a foot to the back of the neck about their, and let me attempt to say this with a straight face, "test photo shoot with Gucci for a perfume ad".

...

BWAH-HAHAHA!!! HOLYSHITONAPLATTER!!!! LMFAO!!!! LMAH!!!

My roommate and I spent about 45 minutes laughing at random things in our apartment that have a better chance of being a Gucci model than those two. The possum-bunny. The bottom of my roommate's foot, corns and all, my asshole.

Wow.

Now I'm no prize pig but I'm not trying to convince people I'm testing for Gucci. Did they start using transvestites and lizard looking pollacks with pointy teeth? Maybe retards with coccygodynia protuberances are suddenly in style.

Oh wow. I can go on like this for hours! Anywhoo...I'm off to get my beauty sleep. I have a test shoot with Gucci in the morning.

HOLYFUCK! LMFAO!!!!!

Fastest damn turtle I've ever seen.

I kinda feel bad for the pigeon but I have to applaud the turtle's gumption.

Hot Booty Contest

In honor of the return of the MTV Real World/Road Rules challenge here's a deleted scene from last season where gay boy (with a "y" not "i", mind you) Ryan judges a hot ass contest between my future ex-husband Kenny, ex-frat boy Johnny Bananas and that Active Duty reject whose name never seems important enough to remember. Here's hoping this season will bring us more moments like these.

LOVE THE DUSHKU!!!!

Now that the Gellar/Prinze foetus has shot all initial talks for the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie to hell I have to say that I would not mind a Faith centered motion picture. Fuck Buffy. If Joss Whedon's interview in this months Wizard is any indication it seems he doesn't feel too differently. Is it me or was he openly slamming SMG (click on blog title for full article) by practically jizzing his pants as he praised at the altar of all things Dushku?