31 July 2003---8:18a

I should be sleeping. Being awake is just making me surly. I think I am still aggravated about my HELLISH stay in what Meghan liked to call "that hillbilly hospital". Let's just say that I temporarily fucking LOST IT and was millimeters away from ripping my own damn IV out of my hand...you heard me right, MY HAND. They even drew blood and lots of it straight from the top of my hand which seems a bit off to me. I think this was the woman's first IV ever. From what I observed, I was the hospital's first patient as well. DAMN was I treated poorly. If I thought it would do any good, I'd write a nasty letter about how their poor service lead me to practically wrap my IV cord around my neck to fashion a noose though suicide is not really my style. Point is,. they barely serviced me, abandon me for hours, and when I told them I wanted the IV out and wanted to go home right that minute, they told me that was up to the doctor...WHAT THE HELL??? It's up to MEEEEEEEEE...the person with the burning fluids stuck in their arm. Guh.

34. The twin from Good Charlotte that doesn't wear the make-up
36. Harry Connick, Jr.
37. Gary Oldman
38. Benicio Del Toro
39. Jimmy Fallon circa 2000
40. Paul Newman
41. A young and arrested Frank Sinatra (SUCK IT, BEN)

And for any of you doubters, my beloved Jen from Surfer Girls (crush No.7) took it all and was entered in the preliminaries for one of the big contests sponsered by Roxy. She got to surf against 3 amateurs competeing for a spot against the big dogs in teh national contest. She came in third which is better than LAST. Most importantly is that she pulled the rug out from under all those MTV bimbos just like I called while being athletic, supportive, and glamorous...for a blonde. GO JEN.

28 July 2003---7:14p
MUSIC TO BLOG TO: Tiger Army "Power of Moonlite"

I think the most comforting feeling in this god forsaken world is when you see someone you can't STAND and haven't seen in MONTHS and they are even UGLIER than you remembered. SOOOOO ugly in fact that they closely resemble a lactose intolerant dog's ASS after it got into the garbage and ate old, moldy cheese which was followed by explosive bathroom issues...AND THEN an bumbling alcoholic comes along pukes all over the dirty dog's ass. When someone you detest comes along sporting that look, well, I pretty much feel like J-Lo, if I do say so myself. Perhaps a bad choice, but I felt hot and I don't want to be TOTALLY loopy and compare myself to someone with a small behind when we all know I have enough junk in the trunk to go to Guam and back.

Point: seeing ugly people who TRIED to "fight" me makes me fall in love with myself all over again.

28 July 2003---1:11p
MUSIC TO BLOG TO: "I Know You're Fucking Ready Vol.1"

I'm getting old. My body is zombie style old and though it was never in tip top condition EVER, not even at birth when everything is supposed to be brand new and untarnished, it is really start to puss out where my rockin' is concerned. Don't be confused you mere non-rockers, this has NOTHING to do with a declining desire to rock nor a lack of participation in rocking on my part. My mind is all Space Invaders-esque and GO GO GO rapid fire style and my body can't keep up which has my night life followed by a quite painful morning recently. But despite the cookie tossing, the vice grip heachaches, and the inability to function to the most minimal degree before 2:00p (I used a hairdryer while laying on my futon with a blanket), as Switchblade would say, we took FSSU to the next level this weekend...and I paid for it.

Friday: A lot of ground was covered on Friday and it was an all around fulfilling romp because I realized a lot of things about my relationship and how good I've got it. Switch, Meg-Dog, and I started out at the Loft to set the tone for a little live rock-n-roll at the Lime Spider. Pirate, who was going to be throughly enjoying a Nu-Metal band, popped in for a little well-wishing and hoped we could meet up later...and this is what is so rad about him. He does his thing, I do my thing and there are really never any hard feelings. If anything, having seperate lives us enjoy "our time" even more. Friday was really loose and I liked it.

Sexual Tension was sort of a muddled event of sorts because nothing about the band and their music inparticular stuck out but Elias Newton, frontman extraordinare, was ON and by ON, I mean ON FIRE. His personality is so multi-faceted because he walks in practically unnoticed, explodes into various degrees of "rockin'", and just as quietly and subdued as he came in, he slips out of that energetic, rambuctious facade. I wish they would have done their INXS cover and I wish I never more about plastic surgery. Either way, it was a good way to spend a little time out of the barbed wire confines of Kent. After parting ways with Meg-Dog, Switchblade and I headed off to hang on the Zephyr's new patio where we didn't THINK we'd be spending much time yet ended up closing the bar. Pirate was there with all of his pals and man-oh-man did he miss me which, as previously stated, was an asset to spending a few measely hours apart. It's nice to be missed. We had good conversation, good company, good beverages, and equally as delightful weather. It was a full and satisfying evening which reminds me of a meal where when you're finished, you are the perfect kind of full and only a cat nap could top it off (and I had a "cat nap" when I got home but that's sort of X-rated).

Saturday: I woke up on Saturday pretty dead set that I was going to have to call things off because my body was worn down and I just couldn't see myself drinking hardcore for another day (I didn't plan on drinking so much the night before but when the mood strikes...). I just keep keeping St. Patrick's Day 2000 in my head because I woke up that morning with a headache and yet still forced myself to celebrate the event...I ended up drinking myself into a state of cookie-tossing all over my own shoes. So I toughed it out and knew I could put on my drinking cap. After a nice lunch and gossip session with Meg Dog (DAMN, I love cheese fries but I am still FIRED UP that after I got in my car and stayed in my spot to make a phone call, a woman actually got out of her can and told me to take a hike because she wanted my spot. SOME BROADS have a LOT of NERVE...I was toasty) I picked up the Knife and we talked about how good my ass looks in different pairs of pants. Starting off at the Loft seemed like a precursor to a dull night...maybe I had hyped up how fun Friday night was and would soon seem like an exaggerator of sorts. LUCKILY, after the flood gates really opened up and the rivers of alcohol were a-flowin', the pack and I went over to the patio for night 2 for party central and out did ourselves. Pitchers, shots, chats with strangers, girls, slight rain...it was nutso but worth it. I really don't have much more to say about that but we were a drunk lot and after closing the bar yet again, we headed to my house and piled on the futon to watch cartoons until unconscious.

Sunday: Everything came to a head. I was, as they say, hungover. I tried to make myself toss and only ended up hurting my throat (how DO the binge and purgers do IT???), managed to eat some mac-and-cheese which only make a reappearance after after a hot bath made me sea sick, and could barely give a shit about grooming for the scheduled birthday dinner. But somehow, a big hug and the allure of stir-fry can get you going. Dinner was a blast even if they did botch up the reservation. It ended up being 7 of us and Stan gets the award for the most plates consumed with what I THINK was a big six. I love stir-fry and I love my friends and I love my Pirate BUT I do NOT like getting car sick and I do NOT like the fact that no video stores carry the Chipmunk Adventure. Regardless, eventhough the Knife doesn't like to celebrate his birthday, I felt good about getting his presents, hitting the bar and having a good dinner because I know I'm sometimes insecure about wether or not people really like me (which is very high school and quite damaging) and I wanted the Knife to know that I appreciate him which I probably could have done anyday. We'll just call July 21st "I Appreciate You, Knife, Day".

I think I am going to start making a few designs for our FSSU hoodies today in order to get them sooooooon so we can take one to Byrne in DC so if you want one with the logo and your Wrath Pack name, it is your responsibility to get a hoodie by next week. ROCK. I'm not quite sure of a few things so heads up : 1. Should the logo go on the back and the name go on the front? I was personally thinking I want a zipper hoodie which is why I bring this up but that's just me. Or do we want everythingon the back or everything on the front or names on the back, logo on the front? There's so many decisions to make. I need input. I could even macke everyone's name part different and we could put them on the front breast...like crossed Knives for the Knife or crossed Switchblades for Switchblade, yadda yadda. 2. What kind of logo should it be? I was thinking of drawing a pin-up with a stand up bass and bottle of something (alcohol related in her hand) with the FSSU under it, or I could even make her a cat, or I could do something more menacing like a skull-n-cross swithcblades with a banner (I could put FSSU OR the names in the banner) and spiderwebs or...you know, stuff to that effect. I could do evil rockin' swallows or something traditional. I dunno. Again, I'd like some input. 3. We can get them extra SUPER cheap if they're one color. Should I just assume that color is white or do we want to splurge and do two colors? It doesn't matter to me to tell yout he truth. So that's about it. I really just need to know what y'all think since we're all getting hoodies and all want to be happy with them.

25 July 2003---4:14p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Les Sexareenos "Live In the Bed"

Meghan and I are playing 20 Questions. I'm thinking of "Huey Lewis" so I hope she doesn't check this. She just asked me if the person is in a band she likes. Heh, how could she NOT like them?

32. J. Hell
33. Hall but NOT Oates

25 July 2003---12:25p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Hellbillys "Blood Trilogy Vol.1"

I woke up in the middle of the night and my blood was boiling in anticipation with the initiative to make a great compilation that follows all the rules set forth High Fidelity style for perfect listening pleasure from beginning to end. But as I settled in with my ample AND supple music collection, some cigarettes, a pistachio biscotti candle for ambiance, and my trusty post-it notes (those may not be common place for mix making but I'd be lost without them) the only songs I can think to select are "Carson Girls" and "Hot Cars" by Angry Samoans. I might as well ditch the whole monopolizing effort and just listen to "The Unboxed Set". And while we're at it, when in the Hell did the Foo Fighters cover "Gas Chamber"? I ususally don't like to babble about music but this concerns me. My compilation skills have really gone down the tubes as the last, oh, I don't know, TEN MIXES I've made contain at least 5 of the same songs including, but not limited to, "Sooprise Package For Mr. Mineo (cover)" by the Mummies, "Sick City" by the Fuses, "We're Going Out Tonight" by the Explosion, "I Know You're Ready" by Le Shok, and "Surfin' Bird (cover)" by the Cramps. It's daunting and I feel like a failure which is not a top-nothc way to start the weekend.

I was encouraging Pirate to leave for work this morning so I could get on with all my extramarital affairs and he asked me if those were some kind of super powers.

Sexual Tension is playing tonight at the Lime Spider with some bands I don't particularly care about one way or another but as I do enjoy both the venue and Elias's on-stage antics and rampant sexiness, not to mention the killer jukebox that first introduced me to "I'm Shakin'" by the Blaseters (who are playing September 21st at the Agora) which inadvertently changed my life and my current dance steps, I think I'll make an appearance. Seeing them is just going to make me miss the Mantis which I do every single Friday and Saturday night when I'm tossing out big bucks for booze. So many Mantis memories...meeting Pirate, singing to Meg-Dog pre-tossing in the street, getting the evil eye from a girl who should be preserving her nasty looks for someone more close to her league, errect urination due to bathroom conditions, asking a drummer if he could twirl his drumsticks a la Motley Crue, losing both the Knife AND Brodie during a Lord of the Highway Show, and many moe that I'm sure I'd remember and enjoy if I wasn't so drunk everytime I was there. But good times nonetheless, all of them. What was I even TALKING about that lead my on this tangent? Ah yes, Sexual Tension.

Speaking of "sexual tension", every conversation I had yesterday, outside of some pleasant but G-rated conversing with Meg-Dog, was practically PORNO and this really wasn't helping my current situation of being INSATIABLE. Luckily, everything got toned down after the topic of "backdoor lovin'" was brought up because, at least for me, that topic tends to make things...tense...to say the least. I always thought I was pretty liberal in the boudoir but I'm actually much closer to a nun I guess considering what the kids do these days to fill their times and their...holes. Why am I still talking, you may wonder. I have no fucking idea and you should probably disregard anything I have to say. This is why I encourage readers from Brown University to go to their homework.

24. George Clooney circa "ER"
25. Conan O'Brien
26. Devil Doll (as in "Radiskull and...")
27. Party Boy and Dave England (I don't care enough to seperate them)
28. Tom Selleck
29. Johnny Depp in "The Pirates..."
30. Robert Verdi...I don't care if he's gay
31. Phillip J. Fry

24 July 2003---11:37a
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Buddy Holly "Greatest Hits"

Yeah, I put some serious thought into it and I can honestly say that I don't like even one single solitary Greatful Dead song nor can I even dig up any appreciation for any looming artistic elements that may possibly be involved in any of them because I could dig and dig and dig and all I would dig up are Jerry Garcia's fat bones. Praise the LORD, I am lactating with joy.

I went to see the Circle Jerks and GBH last night (upon the recommendation of one Lisa Marie Jive-Turkey who played a part in my attending and then didn't show hopefully for some REALLY good exaggerated reason) at the Agora which was not worth the cash but might have been worth the venturing out in regards to my soul for I realized one very important factoid while being probably the cleanest person amidst the dirty and stinking masses: I am quite glad that I grew out of the punk rock scene when I did. Those kids look like fools, each and every one of them. Now don't misinterpret this, I still like some punk tunes, can appreciate the effort and I acknowledge the time I spent during high school (and slightly post) as a "punk rocker", going to shows with the intention of finding the hottest guy in the room and staring at him from a distance the whole night. But it never went so far as to have me NOT showering, having a horrific mohawk (and/or shaved head) that threw me off balance, and wearing those obnoxious butt flaps over my pants.

I literally wanted to shower every single person there as being dirty is NOT cool at all and I believe I even told Pirate (in reference to two girls who couldn't possibly be out of high school that had HUGE and NASTY ASS mohawks and smelled like they had been putrified...yes, they actually appeared to have gone through the stage of Putrification...THANK YOU PLAYBOY for my education!!!) that if those were my kids, they wouldn't leave the house. It's not because I want to tell them what to do and who to be...it's because I don't want them to embarrass me and ruin all the work I put in to being this damn cool! My unborn already have style points against them...sheeeesh.

Then there was the whole issue of the Circle Jerks themselves. It's over dudes...pack your bags. Luckily, before their utter and absolute decline, I did get to hear the following: "Red Tape", "Deny Everything", and "I Just Want Some Skank". 3 for 3. I also got to hear the singer express how he thought Al Gore was a puppet and everyone in the crowd (none of whom were old enough to vote or care about their civic responsibility) CHEERED in unison to everything he said...much like puppets themselves! Am I being critical? It's possible, but it's also possible that I was the oldest person there and felt like I was in a horrible and punishing high school time warp. I wish I had a camera to capture the dirties boy there carrying the dirtiest, passed-out, ODed skank bag to the parking lot. It reminded me of a scene in a movie, like "Backdraft", where someone carries someone's limp and lifeless body out of a fire in slow motion. Priceless.

So I learned that the band I'm in, The Moxies, has to donate a cover of a GG Allin song to a compilation and there had been discussion about what are the best GG songs. I've been thinking about it and there are obvious rockers and then there are the more obscure (and then the tossers all together). I submitted "Die When You Die" and "Don't Talk To Me" along with my two cents. We'll see what the concensus is. I really don't care. I just want to bang on the skins, Animal-style.

Weekend Update
Friday: Sexual Tension at the Lime Spider
Saturday: Lofting
Sunday: Mongolian Barbeque for anyone who wants to...well...not celebrate the Knife's birthday, that's for sure...but bask in his beauty.

21 July 2003---5:46p
MUSIC TO BLOG TO: Stray Cats "Choo Choo Hot Fish"

Let me just say, in order to get this off my chest, that I have been so...what's the delicate word to use here and not sound like a prostiture? Um..."excited down below"? I don't know. Once again, I'll blame it on hormones. I need someone/something to seriously arouse me. Is that sick or what?

My brain has been throughly understimulated lately, probably from spending so much time on this new fangled contraption y'all call a computer and drinking what the hillbillies call "beer". And as they tend to say...you know, "they"...when your brain just sits in your head like a giant cancerous mass and rots, you tend to dream more. Well, I had 3, count 'em, 3 dreams last night and though I can't remember every detail of all of them, I CAN remember some pivotal points which scare the Hell out of me.

1. The worst one of all was like a horrifying scary movie that I was trying to awake from. I was in this really effed up house where I'm pretty sure had been an arena for murdering people and animals for decades with absolutely no post-slaughter clean-up. It was eerily dark and everything was covered in blood and goo and rotten bodies and something of an unnatural nature was going on in the basement because there was screaming and I was crying as I made my way up the stairs. There were these grotesque zombie people all over the place and somehow I escaped into a room where there was nothing a dim light and the floor was sticky and I was actually more afraid to be alone than I was to be downstairs as a victim. No one was coming after me for awhile and I know I had a split lip and some bruises and my clothes were all shreaded. Then one of the zombie guys came over and layed down on his back on the floor and you could just hear it squish and I felt sick listening to his heavy breathing. Then somehow it was implied that if I didn't "do it to him", I would be killed and/or turned into a deformed mass like them so...I stepped up to the plate to "do it to him" (I'm so mortified and freaked out) and when I removed his clothes (I guess they were clothes...zombie attire) his testicles stuck to the bloody floor and I had to "free them" before mounting the zombie and having squishy blood on my knees but the squishing and mounting only lasted for a few "thrusts" because I guess zombies can't maintain errections I'm pretty sure I was going to be hacked to bits. This is all that needs to be known. RANK.

2. The one that made me most nervous involved me being drugged at a party and I guess being date-raped but I don't remember any of that. The dream started with me being pregnant and trying to get the dude who knocked me up to pony up some funds so I could raise this bastard kid. And I was totally paranoid that Pirate was going to be mad at me for being preganant eventhough it wasn't my fault(because I guess he hadn't been around for the whole 9 months I was getting plumped up). And why wasn't this frat guy who fathered my child in jail, you may ask? I don't know. He was working at a Rec Center.

3. We were at Heavy Rebel which was held in an old high school and you could sleep there in old classrooms but boys couldn't sleep with girls. I sat down behind a drum kit and was really rockin' out (or so I thought) but some woman told me I was pretty damn horrible. We attributed that to the fact that there were no symbols. I was playing the theme song to "The Munsters" which I downloaded by Los Straitjackets the other day (in all actuality). I was tall and my boobs were much smaller than usual.

Someone, please stimulate my brain because that was too much intensity for one evening.

21 July 2003---4:16
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Drags "Dragsploitation NOW"

I'd like to share with you the two WORST things I've ever heard, and the funniest thing is that I heard them both in the past 2 minutes.

1. I'd like to punch her in the ass with the fist of my cock---Johnny Swithcblade

2. Everyone has been a swinging asshole---The Knife

21 July 2003---1:10p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Kings of Nuthin' "Fight Songs"

I totally think that my transition into a zombie is finally taking over my body full force because in the fashion that most people eat or sleep, my nose bleeds. Today while I was taking my Classics test I felt my nose starting to puddle and while I had no tissue handy, I did have a rather good sleeve close by but ALAS, I was too late and my nose took it upon itself to drip. As I was trying to remain inconspicuous while taking care of the leaky faucet, I gasped as I looked down at a bloody hand. As I reached to touch my beak once again, the blood came a-gushin'. I'm talking nasty, dark red, clotty masses of blood and to tell you the truth, I just don't think this is normal. Who gets this many nose bleeds? I'm determined to prove that this is my human brain trying to escape and make room for my zombie brain. I kid you not, I feel emptiness in my facial cavaties which kind of makes my eyes sink in and I appear quite vacant and soon my complexion will be torn, scabby, and the ever popular shade of bluish gray. Whose succulant brain shall I feast on first? Someone smart so I can be an upper class zombie. Perhaps The Knife who has 25 years worth or wit and wisdom as of today (HAPPY MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY REBEL ROCKER), or maybe one Ben Lybarger of Rock-n-Roll Purgatory fame. He double majored in his college years. Watch your backs, boys. There's nothing quite like a female zombie who knows all the zombie loopholes...imagine what my PMS will be like. I hope I like brains.

I can't explain what is going on with me lately, and I will shift all of the blame on hormones, but I have had more crushes in the last few weeks than I had during that whole disaster my parents liked to call "puberty" (I hope that now that I am "spoken for" this isn't a sign that I didn't have enough sexual mishaps in my youth. How many is TOO many and how few is not enough???) and I feel the need to document them. I'm going to see how many crushes I can rack up in a year and then reflect upon them because I bet it would be entertaining to look back and sigh at the people who once pushed my young buttons (ah, Corey Feldman, Vanilla Ice, Simon Rex, and the guy who played Wyatt in "Weird Science", where are you now?). Now, in order to define what having "a crush" is so my motives are clear, I must state that I do not want to participate in sexual congress with any of these folks PER SE, but I wouldn't mind it if they asked me to dance, bought me a beer, or offered me their jacket on a cold night and called me their "girl". So starting now, I'll be recording 1 year's worth of crushes and then next year, I will weap openly about them. Keep in mind that many of these are purely superficial as I'm not too uppercrust to just like someone for a physical trait like a haircut. In fact, I'm actually exactly that low.

People I Have Crushes On (starting 7/21/2003)
1. Flathead Mike
2. Torr Skoog (singer for The Kings of Nuthin')
3. Johnny Knoxville
4. Dr. Carter
5. Mo Rocca
6. Micheal Ian Black
7. Jen from "Surf Girls"
8. Hayden Christensen
9. ***secret crush***
10. Jake Gyllenhaal
11. Ian Somerhalder
12. Eric Szmanda
13. Nick 13
14. Dave Mira
15. Davey Havok circa. 1998-2001 (the crush still holds)
16. Milo Auckerman
17. Joe Strummer (RIP)
18. Huey Lewis
19. Liam Lynch
20. Miss Pussycat (strictly for the voice)
21. Brian Setzer
22. The Rev.
23. The guy who played Davey in "Romper Stomper"

More to come.

18 July 2003---4:56p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Kings of Nuthin "Fight Songs"

Someone on SoulSeek has the Dead Boys under "psychobilly". I could just cry and/or throw down.

For the first time in years upon years upon years frosted with yes, more years, someone made me cry in public. This old rotten man at Ming Cheng, my FAVORITE Chinese restaurant where the lady is the most miserable human being in existance and looks like an Asian version of my mom... where I had gone to get dinner after taking a break from eternally studying for my Classics test, asked me what my major was in a sweet and adorable Granpa-esque way. Even though I switched majors to General Studies (with a concentration in Literature...it's not liek I didn't think this through) with a minor in Psych, I'm just used to saying Psych since it was my major for so long. WELL, this old fucker who had the most ear hair I'd ever layed EYES ON, says to me (while shaking his head and groaning), loudly: Oh my GOD, that's a DAMN SHAME. You just threw all the good years of your life away for nothing. All of you kids with your science,science,science. Sociology...Psychology...Biology...blah, blah, blah. Your parents are probably ashamed. I hope you have a rich father to take care of you for the rest of your miserable life. There was a brief pause where the guy went back to his paper but he continued to shake his head and then, with a severly raised volume, he decided that bashing me into a fruitlike pulpy paste would be a more satisfactory companion to his dinner: What were you thinking? It's a crying shame. What example are you setting? If I was your parent I'd be ashamed not to mention embarrassed. You're going to live your life in squallor. You've wasted years and probably the most money you'll ever see in your life...with you psychology You will amount to nothing.

No joke, the dude said "squallor" to me and I'm not sure if it was because I was having a visit from My Girl Flo or what, but I was fighting back tears the whole time and my face was burning hot with flames. Who did this old fucker think he WAS? He had ear hair for fuck's sake. And JESUS, I was polite as pie the whole time and just smiled and nodded and then I CRIED. Right there in the Chinese place while I was holding my FRIED RICE. What the HELL???? I hate old people. In two minutes time, the guy convinced me that I had wasted my life and I was fairly certain I was going to kill myself when I got home. Pirate said he would have beaten him up and I would have been pleased as punch. I was shocked as all get out. I still don't know what happened. I['m hoping the guy's wife just died or something due to a psychological accident and he just took it out on random old me. I wonder what I would have gotten if I told the truth about my major? Old people...hmph.

So, after being throughly miffed and ground into fine emotional, and SHOCKED, powder, I went back to studying only to feel rotten about my life. The Knife and Stan were going to a carnival that had no rides, lower than sawdust-filled prizes and one lonely pony that was probably going to die of embarrassment and this sounded far superior to sitting home sharpening my razor blades. I picked up Switchblade and we headed out there where the love of my life Miss Kinney also was (and she bought me a lemonade that added a new sour to Sourpuss but she did it with the 1.00 she won) and The Knife won me a stuffed whale that bears his name proclaiming that he truly loved me most (considering that Switch refused to win me anything but expected me to buy HIM an elephant ear. Boys). But the highlight of the evening came when my rockingness was reaffirmed as I took my last betting dollar and broke it up on my lucky numbers 13 (usually unlucky but I don't believe in that CRAP), 17 (Miss Kinney's birthday), and 36 (which won me a Madonna record at this same carnival circa 1991), and I WON the beer of my choice. How right on is that? I opted for 12 bottles of Killians and gave it to my Pirate who was mad that he didn't get to go. But YAH ME, I ruled the fair.

To my horror, I discoverd that young grade school and EARLY high school girls do not wear very much clothing and they smoke like crazy. I am horrified. Johnny reminded me that these are the fools who will be taken care of us when we're old. I reminded HIM that there is no old age in my future...which would actually make me kind of future-deprived. God, I'm starting to get cranky so I need a nap right now. Sorry if I sort of left this whole mumbo jumbo abruptly. I think I'm off because I didn't get my double dose of ER reruns this morning. Apologies, people.

16 July 2003---9:45p

If you're looking for something to entertain yourself with, visit our pals at Rock-n-Roll Purgatory and do their Mad Lib. It almost made me laugh myself right out of my chair which would have been a TRADGEDY because I am currently without clothes (don't ask). Here is my Mad Lib:

My Favorite Concert by L.M.A.P. Haidet I was so excited that my anal probe was lubricating in my solar plexus. This was the day I'd see me favorite band: The condemning sluts. Their first show had been cancelled due to the singer losing his eye patch and ending up in the deep caverns of Hell. Now they were all here and ready to spank. Many putrid women crowded the stage hoping to flank the band members after the show. 'The sleazy one is so hot, I'd like to tussle his crotchless panties' I heard one groupie say. 'HOLY TITS BATMAN' cried another raunchy Slut Bucket. I was just there for the music and male strippers, and the band did not disappoint! . They opened with Whip you, Sexually Transmitted Whore and followed with the punk classic Smash the sex shops. The crowd began lathering and skeletons were everywhere. I even got a contact buzz from the Mormons next to me smoking ferns. Nevertheless, I kept on melting like a plush sperm donater until the encore when they played Tad Ghostal went down to Nantucket. While lead singer Johnny The Race Horse mimicked Beastiality with the microphone, guitarist Brett the Slick Motor was itching his amp. The set ended with milky discharge being spilled all over the crowd, and we left for home with our ears beating and our aching titties ready to collapse.

15 July 2003---8:59p

Since I screen my phone calls, whenever my Mom calls me up she sings a song into the machine (it used to be just "La La La") until I pick up and today's selection was the Tom Jones' smash, "What's New Pussycat?". It made my whole day.

You know that adorably depressed little blob that's in the Zoloft commercials who lives under that cloud of doom and doesn't want to take part in the regular daily activities in once enjoyed? That's totally me now. I'm living under a gray rain cloud and I sigh a lot more than usually. Everyone that makes movies thought Huck Finn was happy-go-lucky but if you re-read the book, he talks about how loney he is more than anything else. I think I will name the little rain drenched depressed sighing blob "Huck II". I'm going to go to bed and try to cry because actual crying is better than just lugging a horrible feeling around in your chest all day.

Happy Moving to Meghan.

14 July 2003---2:14p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Rezillos "Can't Stand the Rezillos"

Who gets a cold during the height of summer? Pirate does. And who does he pass it on to with his heaving night breath ladden with germs? Me, the person who gets every illness that goes around times ten. I've had things most people have never even HEARD OF. I swear, if I sit too close to a man's hat I'll probably start to experience erectile dysfunction. My ears have been throbbing since Saturday night, followed by a sore chest and throat. I need OJ, soup, and someone to entertain me. Wah, I hate being sick.

According to the Hipster Bingo Card, I'm pretty sure that I, as well as multitudes of my pals are, am a hipster. I'm not sure if this is a good thing. What the Hell is a Hipster anyway? When I hear that word, all that comes to mind is the haircut possessed by all of the Strokes/Hives/Vines?etc.

I had a bad ass weekend (which has been a few and far between occurrance lately). Friday I could have gone to some Parma party equipped with Scrabble, drugs, and people making out wildly (or so I hear) but I scratched that idea (since I didn't want to drive to Parma 3 times during the weekend) for a little Lofting with Switchblade, the most EMBARRASSING person on EARTH, follwed by some warm-up DDR featuring Switch in his UNDIES. I'm not going to lie, Switchblade and I sucked harcore and I racked up a pretty good case of "the stink". I was sweaty and rank but it was hilararoo, to bring back a word from the past.

Saturday I had a baby shower to go to and my tattoos sort of came out of the closet which is a good thing. My Mom knows they're there but not what they are, how many, etc., and though she begged me not to get any more, she respected me when I said I couldn't make her that promise because I didn't want to lie to her any more. It took a weight off my shoulders, hardcore. They she asked me if I wanted my dead Grandma's wedding rings for when Pirate and I head back to Las Vegas next year. It was at that moment that I experienced my first official wedding emotions (I still don't feel like I'm married and probably won't until all my pals head to Vegas to celebrate the nuptials). It was overall an emotional afternoon because my Mom and I just chatted away and my sister showed genuine excitment about my getting married (not to mention excitement about baking by a pool in Vegas...she's a funny drunk so I guess she can come along). I actually felt like I was being taken seriously in an adult way...YIKES. I came home so effing emotional and then sweat out all my craziness with the DDR Dance-Off. Brodie was the best but he was also the cockiest and we attributed his success and attitude to all his Asian friends. "Peace Out" and "Cutie Chaser" are my jams. Anyone who didn't show up or just didn't want to come, feel free to come play any time. It was the best work out EVER and today my calves feel like rocks. I can't wait to kick someone's ASS. I have a few people in mind.

And I'll agree with the Knife that yesterday was one of those perfect Sundays that combined movies, good food, and napping with my Pirate and my Knife (we did not ALL nap together...the Knife was spooning with Don Gato on a seperate couch. It was very intimate and inter-species sexy). Then we took a drive to deposite the license deprived Knife at home and even that was great and filled with good conversation. I'm starting to seriously love Sunday.

I really think that when we get a house, it will be in Parma which I am going to LOVE because all of my pals are there and I sweat at night and develope unexplainable pains and tumors because I miss them so much. I want a Parma house that is super close to the one next door and could be it's clone with a front porch and a big tree out front (as we all know, this could be ANY house in ANY section of Parma). I want to be able to (learn how to ride a bike and then...) ride my bike over to the Knife and Brodie's houses and bug them. I just desperately want to be close to everyone so I'll be back in the loop and luckily, I bet if we head to Parma, Switchblade will follow or vice versa and then my life with be complete. I still stand by the fact that eventhough I'm 45 minutes away, if I didn't try to make plans with everyone, I'd NEVER see ANYONE because it's been FOREVER since someone called me up and said Hey, what are you doing this weekend? Let's do this... I'd probably drop dead if that happened. BUt I guess it's better to cnstantly try and make lame plans rather than mever see anyone and fall out of touch. It's happened before.

But speaking of plans, keep Sunday the 27th circa 5:00p open but NOT to celebrate the Knife's birthday. SURE we're all going to hit the Mongolian Barbeque in Coventry on a date in close proximity to his date of birth and SURE I'm going to give him a birthday present and SURE we're all going to pick up his dinner tab but it has NOTHING to do with him turning the silver age of 25. Right on, yo.

11 July 2003---3:54p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Hillbilly Hellcats "Our Brand"

Whoever is reading this site from Brown University...what are you doing? This is LOW BROW. And DAMN YOU LISA MARIE...I got about a bazillion hits today from people searching for Hillbilly WEREWOLF. Any one of those hits could be a random sleaze bag trying to steal his hillbilly lovin' away. You better stake your claim when you're in Maryland.

In response to an entry by Meghan concerning good shows for 5.00, I saw the Reverend Horton Heat in November for the incredibly low price tag of five measely bones and it was a fabulous display of musicianship. I believe that was teh same show that Brodie and I danced to several songs very reminiscent of grocery store music. I would have killed the Reverend himself for that mix.

I can not believe that I STILL have not played Dance Dance Revolution eventhough it has been sitting here taunting me and my legendary dancing shoes (or dancing feet, in this case). I was invited to this gal's birthday "get together" (as I was informed that it was NOT a party) but after weighing the non-party 45 minutes away against goofing off with Switchblade and Pirate at our favorite bar and in the comfort of my living room mere feet away...yeah, I'll be sticking in my home city tonight. Anyone heading to the fiesta, send Bridget my birthday well-wishing.

I saw the lead Pirate at the beauty supply store today where I was purchasing an industrial strength nail file. I think at first we were sort of pretending we didn't know each other but then he meekly said hello. It was awkard for a bit because the last time I spoke to him, I was drunk on my way out of a bar. Either way, he's cute and I respect a man who is not gay and works in a beauty supply shop. Happy weekend, y'all.

10 July 2003---3:40p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Slap 'n' The Cats "Hot Rods"

I hate vegetarians and vegans because I just can't trust them. I love air conditioning. Maybe I don't LOVE it but I have a major crush on it. In fact, I have a lot of crushes. I should start keeping track.

Today has been a total boner of a day if I may say so myself. I don't throw the term "boner" around loosely because that just sounds dangerous. Regardless, I took my final today and it was "ehhh" to say the least but I'm sure I did fine. Then I sold my books back for a wopping 13.00 which is throughly depressing. And to make money matters worse, I got my paycheck from school today and it was for (embarrassing drum roll here)...38.88 which is not what I was expecting and/or told but upon calling the school, they explained that since the notes I took were for a workshop during intersession, they pay a flat rate of 40.00 (and then by golly gee there were taxes to be removed) and were sorry I was misinformed. FUDGE.

Now I actually have to thank GOD and my lucky stars that I had to refrain from GBV and any of the other recent events that would have been upwards of 10 bones because I am SCREWED for the next few weeks. I e-mailed the video store (which is still not built but the foundation is down) and my application is still in the running because they have not started hiring yet. WHEW, becase I NEED FUNDS, PRONTO. And if stupidity isn't polluting enough of my veins, I applied to donate some of my baby eggs today. I pity the poor sucker who gets them.

So, I'm in a rotten mood (which angers me because I had a good day yesterday seeing "Pirates of the Caribbean" with my Pirate and eating Panera, all for free). I'm going to bust out some DDR because on top of being cranky, I'm bored. This is my last reminder that Drunk DDR is Saturday. See y'all there.

8 July 2003---2:45p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Reverend Horton Heat "Holy Roller"

The Knife has been encouraging me non-stop lately to not be so concerned about whether my actions or lack thereof are going to upset people and/or make people angry at me but I never listen and am constantly on a never ending wave of worry. Well, I quit because it hurts my body and my mind. I never intentionally do things to hurt people feelings (unless they are despised by me..and even then I pretty much keep to myself unless provoked) so from this point on people may get mad at me but I really don't want to waste my life worrying about that possibility. Thank you Knife for the swift kick in the pants. You should be a professional encouragment giver. In addition to this, I am also going to quit gossiping because I'm beginning to think it's tacky. Y'all can still feel free to gossip to me though if needed.

Last night did NOT provide a surf-off on "Surf Girls" due to one of the challengers getting a staph infection in the Tahitian waters which I guess is quite common. Once again, I have to wait another week for the surf-off and once again they barely showed any sceens including Jen except one where she talked quite highly of another surfer as she always exhibits the highest PMA, and one where the judges talked about how much she "ripped".

I'm going to get a haircut and hopefully hook-up with The Knife for some grubbing and dishing.

7 July 2003---3:29p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Clash "London Calling"

The tornado warning sirens are blaring here in my city which is making my heart race. I want 4:30p to come as quickly as possible so I'll be in a safe zone. Also, after much thought and consideration, I have decided to add "Hateful" by the Clash to my top favorite songs list and it joins it's only contender, "My One Desire" by the Stray Cats. Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Man oh man (just to insert a palindrome right off the bat), I'll tell you what, I should be in a rock-n-roll coma right now as we finally returned from 3 days of debauchery funded by the Heavy Rebel Weekender at about 9:00a but the sleep gods are not smiling on me. Though I had a rockin' time this weekend in Winston-Salem, I'm glad to be home with my bed, my cats, my hair conditioner (I was losing hair chemotheraphy style...and I will be using the word "style" throughout the whole entry as it is my new verbal bad habit) but I'm saddened that after all the 4th of July greetings I sent out, I returned to no friendly e-mails outside of Switchblade's self-invitation to check out, but not PLAY let alone CHEAT AT, Dance Dance Revolution. Sigh. Either way, I painfully missed The Knife (the uterus pain struck me all weekend Emergency Room style, I kid you not) and Switchblade (not to mention my absence during Byrne's return) as they have become my weekend drugs and withdraw hurts physically and emotionally. So does 3.00 for a can of PBR but that's a whole other story which will be outlined in what I like to call The Heavy Rebel Wrap-Up. Though this will be entirely condensed, it will also end up being quite long as it was a lengthy event starting after seeing and ultimately falling in love with Lords of the Highway's new drummer, Pete "Muscles", peeing on the patio of Pat's In the Flats, getting lost on the way to Wooster (which also included practically MURDERING Pirate because you tend to lose your cool when you're in the middle of nowhere on a deserted road where people most certainly have been heinously slaughtered before and your navigator is drunk and surly) arriving at 4:00a, sleeping horribly, waking at 7:00a, and heading out for a long drive ahead. Won't you come along for the journey?

FRIDAY'S BEST BANDS: 7 Shot Screamers, Lords of the Highway, Last Call Brawlers, The Pits.
I was concerned about car sickness on the drive but all turned out well thanks to some slight napping, air conditioning, snacks, and tunes (outisde of a HORRIBLE CD we listened to that I hope I NEVER hear again. I think it was by the Epoxies. Stear clear, y'all, but remember that I am a music snob.) Our hotel was pretty darn rad as it not ONLY had a fridge, but a stove, microwave, coffee maker, silverwear, pans, plates, etc. We procured more spending money by trading eating out for living off hot dogs, boloney sandwiches, and ramen (thank you Food Lion)...along with sneaking PBR into the venue thanks to my GIANT purse. Who has 3.00 a pop for shitty beer? After some scrubbing up and primping we headed to the venue which was an old converted courthouse with three stages so as to keep the rockin' consistant (each band overlapped by 15 minutes with all 3 stages kickin' at once), even including a stage in the old basement jailhouse...I went into a cell and freaked out about being imprisoned in a box, deprived of vitamin D...which was very reminiscent of the Mantis, sigh. This may sound silly but I wish I would have gone more full throttle with my wardrobe because anything went there including cigarette girls with their asses flapping in the wind, super sexy hairdos, and rockin' ensambles. I always get worried about getting too gussied and sticking out but that was impossible there. I felt wardrobe deficient so I have to learn to be more fashion foreward. I was comfortable in the heat though outside of shoe issues. My barking dogs. Off the subject, I'm going to try and wear more skirts and less pants because I look like a frump at such a young age (The Last Call Brawlers didn't know what "frumpy" meant and I didn't know how to describe it. I guess from Tucson to Cleveland there is a communication brakdown. Frumpy=Dumpy). So, we watched some bands and I could go on and on telling you about who rocked and who didn't but I'm sure you'd rather hear about what a bad attitude I had that evening due to lack of sleep. Everyone thought I was either just being a bored jackass or fighting with Pirate, I'm sure, but it really was mental insanity caused by lack of snoozin', I swear it and apologize for my crossed arms and blank stare...that's just tired me. By the time Lisa's future husband, The Hillbilly Werewolf (who is not a werewolf at all so much as a skeleton/clown/mad scientist who made demented goo-goo eyes at me...but I'm sure they were meant for Lisa, as he is her "dream boat"), I was practically in a coma. And just as a side note, when people respond to your being tired by offering you pot or whiskey, my guess would be that their states are altered because, and I say this with the utmost respect, how in the HAY would that help? Hillbilly Werewolf had a burlesque warm-up singer named Glampira who made a FOOL out of herself by getting on stage, messng up her song, starting over, flubbing again, entirely forgetting the words, and running off stage bawling because of what she concluded was "stage fright". I call it "utter foolishness". However, I beg for things like that to happen and I got this as a freebie. Rock. Sleep followed and there's nothing interesting to talk about there.

SATURDAY'S BEST BAND: Satans Teardrops, Tripp Daddys, Flathead Mike and the Mercurys, Thee Exit Wounds.
Sleep is a gift from a higher power. I love sleep. I love showering. I love the cashier at Food Lion who gave us a discount eventhough we were from Ohio and did not have a Food Lion Discount Card. I love drinking free beer in my hotel room while Ben and Pirate have a shotgunning contest (we have photographic proof). I think my whole attitude was altered for the better on Saturday because I had a ripping time from start to finish. We got there fashionably late and mingled with our smuggled beer, rockin' to bands and havin' a good time. Some highlights included a pre-Wet Wife Beater burlesgue show where one chick was dressed entirely in balloons paying tribute to Joey Ramone, another hagard broad sang a Radiohead song, and then a trio of frumpy ladies did...I'm not even sure what they did but I refered to them from then on as "The Husky Buckets"..., the Wet Wife Beater Contest (which I also didn't watch because I had enough boobies for the time being), mud wrasslin' (which we missed because Pirate, who won the 1st year around with a luchador mask, some backflips, and 4 female competitors, felt out of shape and didn't want to ruin his still living legacy while not wanting to see it at all because he would have probably been the best as he is legendary), a wedding (I don't know, don't ask, the people were frumpy and will probably live together in frumpy bliss for all of eternity), some photgrapher taking the best picture I've ever seen of Pirate and myself with more to be sent to us and some to become ever living staples in his portfolio, 2 for 10.00 Stray Cats and Cramps shirts, my crush on hubba hubba Flathead Mike who covered one of my favorite Hank Senior songs, a drunk Sugar FINALLY getting me to drink whiskey from her flasks, corrupting lil' Pete with underage drinking, singing a song about her favorite Denny's food (Moons Over My Hammy is a really, really good Sammy...I'VE GOT 6 HOTDOGS...the last bit I believe was improvised), buying 6 hotdogs from a street vendor for no good reason, and getting busted for mooning people from her hotel's glass elevator, seeing Thee Exit Wounds who though there were decent were comprised of ex-members of Demented Are Go which raised their status, and hanging with the Last Call Brawlers who stayed in our room and provided endless entertainment with stories galore (did you know that not masturbating for 2 weeks is considered an accomplishment nowadays?). People were snoring but it almost helped me enjoy my sleep more.

SUNDAY'S BEST BANDS: Photon Torpedoes, Rocket 350, Kings O' Nuthin'.
We didn't get enough sleep on Sunday due to an early checkout and a looming Bobcat for sure and THANK GOD Ben failed in his quest to get me loaded the night before because I wouldn't have survived yesterday's events. I think the lack of sleep set the tone for the day, not only for me, eventhough Lisa might say it was the huge Bobcat harrassing our hotel that set the tone. We could have been killed. Thank GOD that Bobcats are afraid of bananas. Due to our early check out, we were practically roaming the streets of Winston-Salem until we ended up at a REALLY frightening diner that sold "greens" and the most deadly looking bacon ever served. What are the odds that Lords of the Highway would end up behind us in line? We must have some sort of Cleveland magnetism between us all. We killed time eating and then watched a really lame freak show, as most are, that inspired Ben and Pirate to start one of their own with feats like the bed of spoons and Pirate drinking spoiled milk which would be tragic in so many ways, especially for the janitorial staff. After that, it was like a never ending lull. Besides spending money on t-shirts and making plans for The Knife's birthday present (I am SO excited...it is PERFECT), the bands rotted. One reminded me of Peral Jam and one reminded me of SLAUGHTER. There was a guitar contest which the guy I cheered on won, but probably shouldn't have. I thought Pirate was actually super antsy to head back home early since Sunday was such a bore (Lords of the Highway weere gone and Sunday was a quieter day at the fest...a good point being that it was a day to haggle for merchandise and a shirt I planned on getting with 2 glittery pink bloody straight razors on it was in a bargain bin...YEEHAW) but we toughed it out for hours upon hours in order to see the last two bands but MAN it was SOOOOOOOOOOOO worth it. Go out RIGHT NOW and get something by Rocket 350 and EVERYTHING from Kings O' Nuthin', who are probably my new favorite band, no joke, and I believe The Knife will follow in my footsteps with this one as I thought of him loving it the whole time. Rocket 350 just made you want to get off your fuckin' chair no matter how sore or blistered your feet were. They had SUCH an energy for a 3-piece and it kicked my ass all over the place. They were really nuts, and I dug it. Then Kings O' Nuthin' came on and I don't know HOW but I knew every song but ONE and GOD, they were everything a band should be. They were good looking, they were talented, they had energy and they were by no means typical...a singer, drummer, guitar player, upright bassist, upright piano player, and 3 sax players. I had heard all these stories about the singer's false teeth coming out last year so I assumed they were an older bands, eventhough I had heard them and thought they must have had a crazy sound for their day. However, when they came out...FOX CITY. I guess the guy just has false front teeth because they're from Boston and everyone there is a brawler. It was something about the gray suits they wore coupled with tattoos. Even the worst looking guy was a fox, though I know that should bare no importance on how good they are as a band but I bet they have happy wives. I'm a sucker for gray and tattooed brawlers, kids. They had enough OOMPH just being up there and rockin' out but then they set the piano on fire AND all three sax players played while flames came out of their instruments. DAMN. I'm obsessed now. They were worth all the tiredness and crankiness and hot dogs the weekend included. SO GOOD.

So then we headed home and that was that. The weekend is over. Lisa and I discussed our upcoming garage band (ala the Cramps and the Stooges) and hoped that if we bust ass for the next year, we should try and play even if we're the first band on the first day, it would be worth it. I mean, I know we'd be better than at least 10 of the bands there. But anyway, it was a good time and I wish some of you could have been there. You just might have to sacrifice Rib Day my friends. There were a lot of ladies to be used and abused (but I do have to declare that Ben and Lisa and myself and Pirate were the reigning lookers of this gig. It's not ego, folks. It's blunt truthfullness. I'm sure I forgot tons of things that are important but I gave you a run down...a LONG run down of what was most important. The only thing I regret is that i didn't sleep for a week straight before this event in preparation and that I didn't get to hangout with super drunk HRW Lisa that I've heard so much about. Sure, I've seen her drunk and I've been tackled by her. But from what I've heard, she's been legendary but kept it on the download this year. Maybe in 2004. I have random pictures and I'll be sending y'all some later on. Drunkin' DDR on Saturday at 8:00p.

QUOTE OF THE TRIP: It would be so cool to beat up the Hillbilly Werewolf---Ben.

3 July 2003---5:56p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Devil Dogs "30 Sizzlin' Slabs"

I got a package in the mail today. Inside the package was Dance Dance Revolution Max and two DDR pads. The package came 4 days early. I was informed by Switchblade that I am not allowed to take the products out of their sealed packing material in order to practive before the big "Drunk Dance-Off". This is going to be a test of pure will.

In other news, I am grooming and anxiously awaiting a phone call from The Knife about rockin' out this evening. My dancing shoes have a long weekend ahead of them. I better take some band-aids for blister relief.

3 July 2003---9:09a
MUSIC TO BLOG TO: "Songs To FSSU To Vol.2"

Once upon a time about 2 years ago, a young rocker got her glasses stuck in her hair (not her extra rockery Buddy Holly-style glasses but an equally cool pair that had ear stems as sharp as needles). While trying to free the glasses from the ungroomed and lion-like mane, she stumbled and knocked into the doorjam as she tends to do (stumbling that is) as "clumsy" is one of the best adjectives to describe her. Mid-stumble, the ear stem of death slid it's way with perfect ease into her left ear canal and managed to wage war on her eardrum like Buffy the Vampira Slayer taking a blood-sucker out with a stake through the heart. The good news was that the glasses were now free from her hair...and blood was spurting out of a hole in her head. All balance was lost for about 2 weeks and I'm not just talking about slight weaving...I'm talking about walking on the sidewalk and seconds later ending up in the street. Upon visiting the doctor, there was not much they could do besides HOPE the enormous scab coveting her eardrum was just resting on top rather than actually holding her eardrum together post-puncture. Hearing sometimes gets a little fuzzy in that ear now but that's not even what's the most bothersome: now it takes about 3 Q-Tips to clean the damaged ear. How fucking sick ass is that? Why did I tell you this? I DON'T KNOW. My ear itches.

Pirates grandfather had like his 5 heart attack yesterday. Poor Grandma Pirate. He has the biggest eyebrows I've ever seen and/or lusted over. Cross your fingers that he will be back in tip top form and forcing people to walk the plank soon.

I will miss you all this weekend when I am in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. And as souvenirs from my trip, you will all be getting CIGARETTES unles syou already smoke because YOU NEED TO QUIT. None smokers shall be encouraged to start. I wasn't really hip about going this weekend but as I've said before, it wasn't anything about the actual Heavy Rebel Weekend because OF COURSE I want to see all those bands (including Lords of the Highway,7 Shot Screamers, Highschool Hellcats, Last Call Brawlers, Flat Head Mike and the Mercurys, Kings O' Nuthin...not to mention a car show, guitar contest, Wet Wife Beater, 2 weddings, pudding wrestling, and tattoo contests) and it will be fun. Something was just holding me back. But now that it's upon us, I'm stoked. But I will MISS YOU ALL (as I believe missing my friends is causing the pain in my uterus) and feel GOD AWFUL that I'm missing Rib Day AND fireworks once again. Miss me as much as possible and pretend I'm there. Feed ribs to a sexy and sultry blow-up doll...but not one of those blos-up dolls that you can do it to...PLEASE. I'm sure I'll end up making drunk phone calls from Heavy Rebel so just humor me, OK? AND PLEASE someone be sure to blog all the hot gossip.

Someone PLEASE stop me from Watching "Surf Girls". I actually have a FAVORITE SURFER (the lovely Jen) and anticipation of next week's "surf-off" is killing me and creatin boat loads of havok. Argh.

Allow me to remind you all of 2 thinsg before I prepare for my morning ritual of watching ER re-runs: first off, Lords of the Highway are playing tonight at Pat's In the Flats for the first time with their new drummer Pete who is 18 and fresh out of highschool. Eventhought I have to be on the road at the ass crack of dawn, I'll be there to show my support. Plus, for 5.00, it would be a fun time to hang out and all. Come on out, y'all. And secondly, allow me to remind you all that Saturday July 12th, all my nearest and dearest are invited out to play drunkin' Dance Dance Revolution. Beer, Margaritas, and Daquiris will be served. "Dancing" is optional but will be pretty damn funny. HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY, Y'ALL. See you when I get back from rockin' with the "rockasillies", as Switchb;ade likes to say.

1 July 2003---3:45p

I had the undying urge to change my instant messenger name (which I ALMOST changed to "ipreferwhips" at the suggestion of Switchblade) to "Viva La Vaquera" because I was watching some short film on Bravo and some spooky and quite nightmarish dude said it...it was the only line in the segment of film I watched. It means "Long Live Cowgirls" but that statement had NOTHING to do with the film as far as I could gather. To tell you the truth, I thought it was about Nazis. I hope I didn't accidentally change my name to "Long Live Nazis". That could spell trouble right there.

I had a pain in my uterus which I have yet to self-diagnos. It's probably a looming tumor caused by missing my friends.