2 July 2002---2:55p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: (still playing Lords of the Highway)
I painted this for Meg-Dog two years ago for her birthday. It is an evil, evil zebra and when I see it, I want an evil, evil zebra to ride on. "Zoo Pie" is significant becasue at every ATW show she ever went to, she scremed ZOO PIE but they never played it. It's been two years and she still hasn't hung it up. That's OK because I forgot to erase pencil marks from it's teeth.
I have to shower the skank off my body.
2 July 2002---2:27p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Lords of the Highway "Dangerous Curves Ahead"
I'm getting really hyper-active about moving in with BBBrett next year to the point where I am literally glowing in an orgasmic fashion every time I think about it. I feel like I should take up Swing dancing and start appreciating martinis so we can be ultra swanky in our new digs. Do you know how nice it will be to have someone to sing me Rat-Pack songs to put me to sleep every night? I bet he doesn't realize that this clause is in hie roomie contract...it is.
Had a slumber party with the pirate last night but due to my big and burly lip ring and the fact that he got PSYCHO tattooed on the inside of his lip, there was no smooching and Tall Boy consumption had to be aided by a straw. Doing anything else without smooching kind of makes me feel whorific---combination of 'like a whore' and 'horribile'. But don't worry, I didn't lose sleep over it.
Tomorrow is Danzig and I am going to rock so fucking HARDCORE that you better stand ten feet away from me if you don't want to get rocked to death. Brodie will feel the power of my "rock you to death" wrath because I am sleeping over his house...SURPRISE.
I am so looking forward to my weekend with my crew, especially Switchblade. We used to do everything together, no matter how gay. In fact, he even went with me to the dentist once. I just want to do the ever popular MF and Switchblade activity of FUCKING SOME SHIT UP. I'm sure everyone else will be ready to participate as well.
I am cleaning my apartment with a bikini top on. I am white trashy.
1 July 2002---7:54p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Misfits "Earth AD"
I told Brodie that there was skin missing from up and down my spine and he said that sounds like something Glenn Danzig should be singing about. I am healing all icky like considering my bruises are a nice green/yellow/purple fiesta and I look like a battered banana.
The pirate came over for a private little WELCOME HOME shin-dig. He didn't care about my black-eye. In fact, he just nodded his head about it when in all actuality, he couldn't see it (I made sure to point it out in great detail today). He forgot my last name and I sucker punched him in the kidney. Fucking pirates.
The pirate bit me. I have baby teeth marks on my neck. I bit the pirate. He looks like he got hit in the neck with a brick.
I got my lip pierced and I am all burly like now. Truck driver tattoos, lip and septum piercing...if my hair wasn't little-girl-pink, I'd look like I could really kick some ass.
I wish I had a Jem doll. I wish Brodie was here to sing me a Jem and the Holograms or Misfits (no, not THOSE Misfits) song. He knows about Synergy. With my new hair, I kind of look like Jem...but with black and pink. Guh.
30 June 2002---7:26p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Brian Setzer Orchestra "Dirty Boogie"
Tall Boys are on-board. It will be very irresponsible for me to drink them considering I have to study before I have a date with the pirate. But that is what my youth is for...doing TOTALLY irresponsible things while they are still considered cute and childish.
Boys who are below 6' tall are short, it's a fact. I don't mind short boys but I wish they would ADMIT they are short instead of being delusional...Brodie, I may just be talking to you.
I've disappointed my friend Wonderless and that is so not cool of me. I discovered that I was the source of disappointment and it was like my heart was ripped out of my chest and stomped on and eaten and spit out onto the boiling Florida pavement...which actually would be kind of cool to see. Anyway, I'm making it up to him by being as cool as humanly possible.
30 June 2002---6:07p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Danzig "Danzig III: How The Gods Kill"
Schedule of July 2002 Events Thus Far July 1: Tests in both Astronomy and Physics...possible evening trip to the Mantis July 3: Danzig live at Peabody's July 4: Activities w/ BBBrett including fireworks, ribs,
and watching Firefighter Jess blow up fruit while
severly lit July 5: Go to the Mantis...most likely alone...wah July 6: Go to the Mantis...most likely with Switchblade...YEEHAW July 14: OKGO live in Detroit July 15: LOTH live at the Beachland July 20: Breeders live in Chicago July 27: Slumber Party Fucking Massacre
Right now, I have to go buy some Tall Boys because I am "thirsty"...but not CONFUSED and thirsty. I just want a beer.
30 June 2002---5:45p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Danzig "Danzig II: Lucifuge"
Back from Florida in one piece though I did leave my copy of Lords of the Highway "Haulin' Ass" behind. Fucking Florida. And I have a black-eye. It's kind of sexy in an I got a black-eye because I drank too much and wrestled an air plane pilot to the death kind of way. I was declared the winner after all.
So G.G. and I were laying in the biggest water bed in creation yesterday reading this month's Playboy magazine. She questioned whether or not I would be able to consciously lay on my back all naked with some circa 1980's dude snapping photos of my "unmentionables" and still be able to you know, like look sexy...fake sexy. There's no way.
This spawned the debate about how one goes about looking sensual. Because that's what they say to those chicks, Give me your best sensual look. I mean, I hope that's what they say. I hope they just don't blurt out, Give me a face that really emphasizes how much cock you'd like to be sucking instead of laying on this table, totally nude while I rock out to Loverboy.
To me, the best way to describe sensual is to do a combination of confused and thirsty. G.G. does not have this down yet, though she can do surprised and thirsty. I'm hoping Meg-Dog will be better. I need to prove that I'm right.
29 June 2002---9:07a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: The sound of central air conditioning
Less than 24 hours and I will be back in the car for the very lengthy ride home and I am antsy and anxious. It's not that I'm not having fun here in Florida, I am. I just miss my house, my cats, my friends, my pirate...I miss my territory where I am the queen and can do whatever I want, whenever I want. Florida is hot and sticky and bad for my skin. Some protestor type hippie piece of trash walked up to us at the grocery store yesterday and wanted us to sign some petition about voting and I was never so proud as when I said, "I'm from Ohio".
My horrible hangover is officially gone but it's been replaced with a horrible headache over the fact that I have two tests on Monday when I get back and have I looked at the material? Hell no. So today, I am boycotting Florida so I can study. Mr. Florida and G.G. are going to rock out at the beach and as we all know, I am not friends with the sunshine OR the outdoors, so I think I'll pass.
I'm anxious to play catch up with my crew. I'm supremely anxious to hear about Meg-Dog's birthday antics and I am even more excited that I get to hang out with Switchblade (and I believe BBBrett) at the ever beloved Mantis this weekend. HOORAY!!! Not to mention, Wednesday...Danzig. FUCKE YEAH.
I haven't had a Dr.Pepper in 4 days and I am out of cigarettes. Fucking vacation.
28 June 2002---9:20a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: The pounding of my fucking head
This is what happens when you go to Florida and have WAY too much to drink (4 pitchers, 1 pint, a shot of Goldschlager, 6 beers, .5 liter of Parrot Bay rum, .5 liter of Vodka, .5 liter of Screwdrivers) from the hours of 4:00p to 10:00p:
You cheerlead, knock shit over and fall on your ass. You go to the public swimming pool in your see-through leopard print bra.
You bite your best friend for no reason until she screams and there are large teeth marks for evidence.
You get into a large wrestling match with the owner of the home you're staying in equipped with biting, screaming, scratching, kicking, punching, slapping, etc.
You take part in pornographic activity that involves putting your hand on your best friend's boobie.
You stick an entire shot glass in your mouth purely because you can fit it in.
You lose your glasses like an asshole.
You play If You Leave Me Now by Chicago on a public jukebox.
You pass out and sleep for ten hardcore hours.
I am not TOUCHING alcohol for the rest of the trip, mark my words.
25 June 2002---7:40p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Cult of the Psychic Fetus "s/t"
My First Fight With Meg-Dog's Canadian Hoser, Eh? Meg: what's your opinion on the matter of me and the canuck? he wants to know. MF: Well, first ask him if he's ever seen the movie "Kiss It, You Dang Cunucks" Meg: he hasn't. MF: I'll forgive him because he's an actual Canuck and not a pirate pretending to be one. I think the whole situation has the possibility of rocking, eh. As long as he's not a complete hoser Canuck: a hoser? *chuckles*..gawd.. .u americans that watched bob and doug mckenzie..think ya know it all.... MF: Ha ha ha, silly Canadian. Doesn't he know that we Americans base everything on overdramatized television and movies? Eh? Canuck: next thing you know.... she's be singing the 'blame canada' song....i'll bet she likes celin dion too... MF: That's where I draw the line, yo. Canadians should be punished for her Canuck: for once.. i agreee Meg: he likes that we call him "the canadian." MF: He should. It's brilliant Meg: not very creative, though. MF: The Canadian is not nice to me Meg: canadians are jerks. MF: Jerky Canadians Canuck: yea.. well. i can out canada her any day of the week MF: I bet he can. He shouldn't threaten me. I'm dating a pirate. He could Swashbuckle his Canadian ass off Canuck: and she's a wuss.. can't stand up fer herself... MF: Oh that's it...we're kicking it, old school. He's going to wish he was back in Canada when he feels my wrath Canuck: i'll bring my seal batton *smirks* MF: Oh, that Canadian. Ask him if he knows what a "Mexican Surfboard" is? Canuck: wtf would i know what a mexican surfboard is? u have more problems with mexicans in the US then we do... we have asian 'issues'... MF: Well, just let him know that a "Mexican Surfboard" is what he's going to get when we rumble.
Thank God I'm going to Florida and not Canada.
25 June 2002---11:40a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Stray Cats "Runaway Boys: A Retrospective"
Not only was the pirate smoking today but he was smoking Lucky Strikes...no filters, yo. He's tough. I mean, he has a tattoo in his arm pit for fuck's sake. I told him to try and control himself while I'm gone because I don't need him to bring any "skank" back to me. "Skank" the thing, not "skank" the person.
Have I ever mentioned how much I love Miss Kinney? If she were a man, I'd marry her and we all know how I feel about marriage. She bought me an Aquarius lighter for my trip, however, how will I get it? I'm hoping one of my dudes (Brodie or BBBrett) might deliver it since they'll be in K-town tonight to say Au Revoir/Bon Voyage as we head out to Florida. As I said my good-byes to the pirate, I mentioned that I wanted to drink an umbrella drink out of a coconut and he had the nerve to inform me that they don't have coconuts in Florida. Motherfucker, if I don't get a coconut drink, all hell breaks loose. They better at least have beer in that backwards state.
Today I have a lunch date to go to motherfucking Tommy's for a motherfucking falafel...and to celebrate Meg-Dog's birth. YAH BIRTH. I hear she has devised a plan to get me to eat Hommus. Um, I'm not sure this plan will work since it's not so top secret. Hommus looks like it's been regurgitated onto a plate but who knows? I've tried crazier things.
I had an actually decent conversation with my EX yesterda. A 2 hour conversation to be exact. I told him about socially "seeing" the pirate and I'm glad I did...and I'm glad it came from me and not some K-town Fucker. I swear, no one has better things to do here than stick their noses in other people's business. Anyway, the conversation was healthy, probably the most civil conversation we've ever had, and I think I can see us being friends in the future. This stuff takes time. I don't want to get to deep into it before this becomes a big bummer.
So, ADIOS PEOPLE...see you when I return to O-HI-O, yo. Try not to miss me too much. I know it will be hard.
24 June 2002---12:02p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: (still playing Nekromantix)
I forgot to mention that Miss Kinney refuses to let me move to Ken-fucking-Tucky. She has another thing coming if BBBrett and I have our way. Humana building, here we come.
24 June 2002---11:51a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Nekromantix "Curse of the Coffin"
I'd insert the words to the Canadian National Anthem right here but the only part I know is Oh Canada... Oh Canada, indeed.
I love to watch the pirate draw. He puts on these faces that totally say I'm so serious when I draw and not nearly as goofy as during the other 23 hours of the day. My tattoo is looking so incredibly BAD-FUCKING-ASS that I want to make love to it. He even said he could make the skull pink...PINK. I do love pink. He's going to color them a few different ways so I can decide. I'm so effing excited. Then he gets all professional on me which is kinda rockin'. I'll probably do it when you get back from Florida so you don't ruin it in the sun. Awwwww.
Speaking of Florida, I just have to get through today and tomorrow and I'm out of here. I just want to see the fabled "ocean" and enjoy an umbrella drink in the sand with my chick G.G. and Staff Sargeant Sullivan. We're kicking off this big, bad-ass vacation with falafel tomorrow at Tommy's in honor of Meg-Dog's big 2-4 that we will miss when down south. If you see Meg-Dog on Thursday, buy her a gift. She likes expensive candy.
23 June 2002---7:09p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Cramps "Bad Music For Bad People"
So, yesterday, as you know, the pirate called off work to go to Ken-fucking-tucky with BBBrett and myself. Upon telling his EX where he was going and who with, she said, Where's Kentucky? Now, I had a field day with this one. Even if you don't know EXACTLY, you should at least know it's south. The pirate must have found as much amusement about this as I did because his EX got all riled up and said, I bet your tramp girlfriend knows where it is. Well, OF COURSE I DO, but it's not because I'm a tramp. It's because I'm not retarded. He called her a fucking cunt and I devised a plan involving a map of the United States...but it's a secret (and for the record, I am neither a tramp nor a girlfriend).
When relaying this story to Meg-Dog and commenting on how she knows nothing about me so she can't call me a tramp but we DO know that she DOESN'T KNOW where Kentucky is, Meg Dog replied: What we know about her leads us to believe that she is a tramp. A dumb tramp.
Meg-Dog has a possible date with an "H" Canadian who is a good height for snuggling with her. I have a concrete date with my bed and will be chaperoned by my blanket and pillow. I'm pretty much already sleeping while typing this. It's getting difficult because I am getting drool all over the keyboard. Eventhough I'm listening to the Cramps, I can't get the mother truckin' Stary Cats out of my head or I WOULD be asleep already.
Put your lips to mine with your kiss of fire. Just to be with you, baby, tonight is my one desire
23 June 2002---9:39a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Brian Setzer Orchestra "Ignition"
I think this may break a lot of hearts and all, but I've found the place where I'm going to spend the last golden years of my tortured life: Louisville, Kentucky. Yes folks, I loved downtown Louisville so much when I was there to see Tiger Army and AFI that I actually took a picture of the fucking sun setting into the river by a bridge. I'm going to blow it up, make copies, frame them, and hang them all over this hell-hole so I have something to keep me sane until next May. As far as I can tell, BBBrett is on board with coming along to be my roomie. My Mom and I were discussing roomie possibilities for post-graduation and I think living with him could be the best situation for both of us...he respects U-couches and Frank Sinatra. I want to work at the Humana building and get their logo tattooed on my ass. I don't know what they do there but who cares? All I know is I already found a place to paint and read and a sculpture to "do it" on top of. I love you LOUISVILLE.
Tiger Army was quite sloppy but not as sloppy as AFI (Davey Havok is officially off my list because I don't liek WOMEN. You'll know why when the pictures are developed). However, both bands played the designated songs I wanted to hear so in accordance with the deal I made, BBBrett and Pirate get treats. I don't know what they will be but they'll rock because that's what I did yesterday...I rocked. What rocked even harder than me was the fact that Pirate bought be a pair of Tiger Army underwear with the logo, band name, and "Devil Girl" written on them. I do love underwear and I do love gifts. He rocks. And BBBrett rocks, too, as he bought me a bagel, smokes, and a bottled water. They're the best boys EVER.
Today is going to consist of helping G.G. and Murph consolidate their stuff into one mass and moving it to the selected dwelling. BBBrett and I are doing this because she is going to feed us afterwards. I can't believe I'm even up considering we went to bed around 6:00am. I'm ready to rock-n-roll again, yo. 3 days until Florida, 11 days until Danzig. Fuck yeah, yo.
22 June 2002---11:56a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Hellbillys "Cavalcade of Perversions"
Going to Ken-fucking-tucky shortly to see two of my future husbands, Nick 13 and Davey Havok. They will fall madly in love with me when they see my fucking rad new hair-do, especially done for me by the very beautiful, talented and patient Miss Kinney . See y'all when I return with stories of gore and murder in the sticks.
BRODIE'S TO DO LIST MADE BY BRODIE HIMSELF
1. Invent new form of nachos
2. Go back in time and save M.F.'s dad from an oncoming car
3. Cut power lines to salvation army
4. Eat bagel
5. Star in documentary about Steve Buscemi entitled Mr.Pink Goes To Washing-Death
6. Grow pompador
7. Get tested for the HIVS (never too careful)
8. Get tested for pregnancy (still never too careful)
9. Get tested for mental disorder (this list is test enough)
10. Make sure CSU schedule is rockin'
11. Teach Don Gato how to use the phone
12. Find out if Uncle Sam really does want me dead
Fucking lunatic.
21 June 2002---10:56a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Southern Culture On the Skids "Peckin' Party"
Sometimes I confuse Boss Hog with Hoss. I'm not sure which show came first but I think it's lame that their baddies names are so damn similar. Confuses the yongsters.
I want everyone to know that I did that gigantic mass of dishes that were sucking up space in my bedroom, otherwise known as the "Den of Slack". In all actuallity, I put them all in a laundry basket and drove them to Cleveland to be washed in a dishwasher. Who has time to wash dishes by hand? I ususally bribe G.G. with that I don't have to do them. Rock.
Tonight is the HORROR MOVIE MASSACRE at the creepy house in the sticks, otherwise known as everyone is coming over to drink beer and watch crappy movies like "Terror Train" at my house until we pass out. Be there or be severly mutilated all over Kent, OH.
20 June 2002---9:08p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Johnny Cash "American Recordings"
Meg-Dog wrote For a good time, put me in your pants. I'm thirsty. Feed me on my guinea pig's tank. Poor Elvis.
I can't stay away from this beautiful blog and I can't keep my hands out of my motherfucking hair. No joke, I totally just put my hair in a pompador. I thought it looked pretty cute but then I started to feel like a cross between the pirate and Gwen Stefani so it all came down like a rainstorm, yo. I think all this Psychobilly/Rockabilly stuff is going to my brain and affecting my hair-do decisions and I'll tell you...sometimes a hair-DO is a hair-DON'T people.
Switchblade and I are talking about hardcore backyard wrestling. He wants to join up and get the shit knocked out of his with barbed wire, plates, fire, and the ever fabled "Mexican Surfboard". I don't think it's a good idea but who am I to stop him? Everyone's got to have a dream...mine is to be a piercer and inflict intense amounts of pain...or be a carpenter...but I can't get a break in this town. Irrelevant. We have a hot date to watch the WRC videos if I can snatch them from the pirate.
Since Switchblade and I have been chatting, I've been sitting in my house, all alone, laughing to myself (which I hate to do) about this time when we went to the movies and he insisted on sneaking candy in...IN HIS PANTS. Not in his pockets or anything but down in his hot crotch. Well, as we're standing there, the candy fell down his pant leg in plain site of everyone behind the counter and he made ME pick it up and be the diversion. What a fool. It was a good time.
ARGH, MOTHERFUCKER. A BUG JUST FLEW UP MY NOSE. Oh, hooray. I sneezed it out. This is so unlady like. Plus, I think I just had a tick on me. I hope I don't get Lyme Disease. That would rot, hardcore.
20 June 2002---5:27p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Reverend Horton Heat "Liquor In the Front"
A mother effing shout out to one hell of a hellion: Paul Cox, we salute you for making this kick ass and ultimately frightening page. I mean, I can literally say I am in love with this page and I want to lick the monitor...but I'll wait until I'm alone and/or lonely.
I had too much fun and too much beer at the Mantis last night with my "crew", as they say around these parts of Hell. Post-show brought chaos mixed with more chaos served over chaos. First, an eager beaver and BBBrett had to beat the clock on a late-night beer run. We didn't. We beat the back of my car into a wall that sure as Hell Fire wasn't going anywhere. Yeehaw, we left without any new scratches, minus a few scratches in my heart because more beer was no longer an option. Motherfuckers.
After Meg-Dog kicked Brodie out of the bed to provide more space (we were like 4 tightly wrapped burritos), Brett had some tragic highway issues that left him stranded, branded and damned to pay the toll masters of the road. Don't mess with the road baby and the road won't mess with you, that's my motto. I learned that driving the big rig, yo.
I got made fun of left and right today by suggesting the guy I spoke to at the Cop-House sounded Indie Rock. In order to best explain this, I merely stated that Indie Rockers sound delicate. This did not go over well. The dude turned out to be more of a rocker anyway and a married one to boot. But I was right about one thing, he was semi-attractive and I could tell that much over the phone. Meg-Dog said she would have done it with him.
Things To Do List Made By Meg-Dog
Profess my love for Paul Cox
Update spankin' new blog
Retrieve wallet from the cops
Be a jerk
Do it to a pirate
Enjoy a bagel
I think I did some of those things and if I didn't, all you motherfuckers can kiss my tail pipe.
