29 September 2003---10:05a

My weekend was a success but my brain is too much like oatmeal to really pour out the lavishly wordy descriptions you may be used to. Therefore, you are all going to be treated to "My Weekend" as written in the style of "What I Did on my 2nd Grade Summer Vacation". This should not only be quick because my stomach started growling at 7:00pm and I just discussed breakfest foods but it should be fascinating as well.

FRIDAY: Went to dinner with Meg-Dog. Discussed boys. Ate rad ass cheese fries. Felt way fat after. Drove home. Got off at the wrong exit. Got lost. Picked up Pirate only to have him leave for Philly. Didn't sleep well.

SATURDAY: Got up at 6:30a after tossing and turning all night. Went to WalMart and walked around like a zombie pushing a shopping cart. Went to Boarder's and bought a copy of "The Odyssey". Came home. Cleaned. Ate Special K. Napped while listening to MP3s. Groomed. Went to the Loft and drank. Went to the Zephyr and didn't drink. Practically fell asleep staring at a table of greasers. Switchblade got snubbed!! Ate Europe Gyro. Watched movies. Fell asleep on my couch. Got in bed with Switchblade to gossip. Slept well.

SUNDAY: Got up. Shopped with the Knife. Gossiped with Brodie. Watched movies and ate Wendy's. Cleaned my dining room and kitchen, including doing dishes, while actually enjying the fact that people were watching football in my living room. Cooked a Sunday meal. Slept during "Hunting Humans". Threw up the Sunday meal. Wrote my Children's Lit. essay. Watched the season premier of "American Dreams". Showered. Rented "Emma" so I wouldn't have to read the book. It was the most boring movie ever! Pirate came home. I really didn't feel like he was gone so I didn't jump for joy. He bought me a cat wearing a sweater. It's not very scary. Fell asleep.

I get to go to Switchblade's new apartment today. No pooping allowed. I'm totally getting Rally's when I get out there. Hell yeah! This entry was so pointless. Everyone who reads it was there at some point. Oh well. They can't all be prize winners.

26 September 2003---12:38p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Johnny O'Keefe & the DeeJays "Rockin' Around With..."

I've been thinking a lot about the Reverend Horton Heat. I'd like him to have one arm embracing me and one embracing a life of sin. That would be wicked hot.

Today I am pretending I am from Boston. Torr Skoog is from Boston. Torr Skoog is a hot potato and he's in a bad that is 95% hot tamales. So much hottness...so many vegetable analogies.

I miss my friends. I feel like I haven't seen them in eons and an eon, well, hot damn, that's a long time. I want Meg-Dog to go out to lunch with me and feed me gossip. Tomorrow I want to drink and throw up on the dates of both the Knife and Switchblade, respectively. I want to eat pork chops in my pajamas.

I had 2 tests yesterday and I have one today so my brain is like mush central. Hansel and Gretel's parents were jerks.

I spent the entire day (from 1:00 to 7:00) yesterday at the tattoo shop. You know why? Because Pirate dropped me off at school and when I walked there to get my car, I was too lazy to leave. He's going over EVERYTHNG on my left arm to brighten it up. It already looks wicked rad.

For Halloween in Kent, we have to option of hanging inside and outside the new tattoo parlor which is tits because we can drink beer inside and the beer will be FREE, provided by ME. Good idea since it was impossible to get into the bars. I can't wait to point at drunk sorority girls. Rock!

R.I.P. Robert Palmer. You will always be "Simply Irresistable" to me!

22 September 2003---12:49p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: "Viva La Drunk Camp" compilation.

"Liquor, Beer, and Wine" is a flashing sign I see. Every single morning I get up and it's buzzin' down at me. I look up to the heavens for a ray of hope to shine. And there it is in neon: "Liquor, Beer, and Wine".

Friday night: drank boatloads with almost the ENTIRE crew (minus one Brett "The Knife"/"I'm at Drunk Camp" Chabek) including one Mary Byrne-Out, all the way from hurricane territory. Thankfully for us, they shut down the government so she got some time off and we got to here the world famous Byrne laugh which is quite reminiscent of Urkle. I woke up with absolutly no hangover.

Saturday: drank at some tattoo shop function after having the worst service at Tommy's EVER along with the worst milkshake. It was like taking 26.00 and ripping into SHREADS, throwing it in the air and saying, "Thank Jesus for cultural food!!". But moving on...saw Pirate doing drunk backflips off a balcony. Met someone named "Piggy". Heard about someone's mom practically masturbating over Bruce Springsteen in 1974. Came home slightly drunk after getting multitudes of hugs and watched Goonies. Byrne "yarfed" all night long. I bet her trip back to DC was rockin'!

Sunday: Woke up tired. Slept all day. Ate chinese food. Felt all effing lazy. Went to the show with the fellas. Drank beer for the third night in a row. Should NOT have drank beer for the third night in a row. Johnny Psycho was good but not as good as the first time and his ultimate Tiger Army rip-off style was actually quite irritating. I'm glad I didn't sign them to the lable I never started. Throw Rag was AWESOME!! Is it still cool to say "awesome"? I really dug them. There was a good scene with a washboard and some cowbells and a girl with a bad haircut from the audience. I liked BR-459. I like country-esque stuff though. It didn't rock enough for a few of the fellas (one who hurt my feelings hardcore both last night and on Friday night...you can call me overly sensitive, I really don't give a fuck...and one who may have been either mad at or annoyed with me, or maybe he was just tired). The Rev...he was the Rev. My loins were shaking. After I made a revised list, he played 7/10 songs I wanted to here. It was H-O-T! I bought a t-shirt.

And as a musical footnote: I really and absolutly don't care what music people listen to. Different people listen to different things. I don't have to like it. I don't think that means I'm arguing. It's just an opinion. I would never say something implying that if you liked a certain band or whatever that you were wrong because that is impossible...a matter of taste. I also don't think that music is the end-all be-all of who a person is (so I think it's pretty lame to say that if I liked Garth Brooks, it would totally influence how gay I was overall) Fuck, I like Huey Lewis, Hall and Oates, and Air Supply! I'm as guily as anyone of liking "suck-ass". I guess I should just be more cautious of joking around because I don't want anyoneto think I'm being a music nazi.

Unfortunately, the weekend has caught up with me and I've tossed my cookies just from utter exhaustion and my body hating me from the inside out. I've also been crying for the past 5 minutes for no reason. I need an entire week to just sleep and then wake up to realize I don't HAVE TO and sleep more. I'm cranky and I'm highly sensitive and irritable. On a whole, the weekend was long and I didn't have even 2 seconds to take a break unless I was driving and when I DID get a nice car ride, I was the victim of roadrage which made me sweat, cry, and practically vomit. My car is OK though. I, on the other hand, am a wreck, and would like to sleep forever which is impossible with school and all the other non-sense going on in my life. I worry too much, I know this, but people think you can just stop worrying. You can't. It's in my blood and it makes me sick daily. I think I've been throwing up more than I've been eating and it's all based on anxiety and stress. But I didn't want to unload how effed I feel so forget this. There are only 3 things that are making me maintain:

1. Salty Old Meg Dog (I know Talk Like a Pirate Day is over, but I like that one for some reason) bought me a pair of pink (yes, my secret third favorite color) socks with a rocker woman with a bow in her hair flexing a tattooed arm on them. They are going to go so well with my pink and black waitress shirt. YOU RULE!!!

2. The Knife not only said that we could have "a Sunday" next weekend (a tradition started by Becky that consists of laying around in your pajamas watching 3-4 movies and eating a well balanced and ultimately DELICIOUS dinner, being lazy bones), but he said he would make pork chops! I've been craving a chop Homer Simpson style.

3. This is Season Premier week which means tomorrow is Gilmore Girls and Thursday is ER!!! I effing LOVE television. I wish I could get a degree in watching television and a minor in getting dumpy.

So that's what has happened. Just as an ender, I'll throw in that I really dig Switchblade's possible new filly and think she'd fit right in with us, and I don't care if anyone likes or dislikes my new piercing (or my old one). It doesn't matter really what anoyone thinks of it besides me and maybe Pirate because he has to look at it everyday for the rest of his life. Outside of the shirt The Knife wore to the luau, I would never tell a friend how ugly something they had was let alone go on and on about how stupid it is until I am forced by default to tell you how stupid YOU ARE (which I didn't mean). Stuff like that tends to hurt feelings and I'm a little sensitive lately and I've actually contemplated taking it out because I had to hear how ugly it was and how unliked it was and that's just lame (not the opinions...my overbearing sensitivity). I'm tryng to keep my chin up but like I said, things tend to sting when you've been sleep and food deprived and you can't even think straight. High horse ramble is now over.

I bought 2 cookbooks today because Pirate and I feel like dog shit (maybe because we drank 3 nights in a row) and have decided to plan a nightly well-balance meal to have together. I dig cooking so it could be fun and I dig good food too (speaking of good food, only 65 days until The Knife's world famous Thanxgiving dinner and whip-cream orgy!!) Anyway, I think I'm going to go make pancakes and read those cookbooks, not tomention finish "Girl: a Novel".

56. Johnny Mosely I miss Byrne.

19 Spetember 2003---5:07p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Kings of Nuthin' "Fight Songs"

HAPPY "TALK LIKE A PIRATE" DAY!!! ARRRRRRRRRR!!!

I just got the best surprise phone call: thanks to the gnarly hurricane that's ravaging the east and shutting down DC functioning, Byrne is on her way home and should be within Ohio limits ANY SECOND NOW!! Yippy! We get to FSSU Byrne style at the bars tonight!!! I'm so excited because this was totally upexpected and I had no plans and I'll get to here the unmistakeable Byrne laugh!!! ROCK!

I need a cat nap and a bath.

17 September 2003---11:20a

Old Salty Meg-Dog may pretend that she didn't throughly enjoy watching the award winning and edgey documentary on the popularization and eventual decline of the groupies of Todd Sparrow, "Girl", but I know that deep down, she loved it, smash-your-face-in-the-pillow-out-of-embarrassment scenes and all! She might also claim that she doesn't have a crush on Todd Sparrow, but she does. You know what she doesn't have? THE FEEVAH!!! I've got the feevah people...the Todd Sparrow feevah. In my personal opinion, the movie ended all wrong because Andrea, the before mentioned groupie, would not have just up and matured out of nowhere and rejected Todd Sparrow's plea for her emotional and physical companionship. HELL, I'm sure if Davey Havok or Dave Weston were telling myself or Meg-Dog, respectively, that we changed their music and they couldn't fathom touring without us (eventhough our crushes on them are like totally over OK?)...not to be crass...the panties would be a-flyin'!!!

55. Todd Sparrow

To report my findings on the following question/statement of musical preferences of a punkrock character played by Tara "Brodie looks at pictures of me naked" Reid:
Yeah, but, grunge rock, or post-grunge rock? Neo-punk, or oral pop? Oral-pop-grunge or post-pop-oral? Pre-grunge or psyche-post-pop oral grunge, or good time butt-rock? Please not good time butt-rock, I'm so sick of that shit.
---in response, I believe that "good time butt-rock" refers to the musical genius of such rock-n-roll warriors as Winger, Motley Crue, Billy Squire, Ratt, Skid Row, and Bill Idol. My research on this little known genre is by no means concluded. A chasm has been opened and my curiosity has been poked with a stick.

What I liked about going to Meg-Dog's: a yummy dinner that she cooked for me, gossiping about boys and Switchblade's hot date, the coldest Pepsi in Ohio, watching the best movie ever made.

What I didn't like about going to Meg-Dog's: almost stepping on a dead toad, being in themiddle of Murder Country which is nowhere near heavenly Marlboro Country.

The Knife had a date this week and I've heard NOTHING ABOUT IT! Lame city, man.

16 September 2003---1:39p

I forgive you Blasters, you know why??? Because the Reverend Horton Heat is now the HEADLINER of the show which means longer playing time, more songs, more rockin' and rollin'!!! PLUS, they add Johnny Psycho as an opener. YEEHAW!! Is it Sunday yet???

On a sadder note, I sold my bass to Brodie for $60.00 but he made me feel better when he reminded me it would be "staying in the family".

On a happier note, I bought a new mini-messenger type bag that was deemed "popular" by Dickies on the Angry, Young, and Poor site. It would make my life if it got here before Sunday.

16 September 2003---9:13a

I had my dream about Christopher Walken again last night. I keep wondering what it means and whether or not I should draw or paint the event to capture it forever...though then it will eternally haunt me like it has been in my unconscious. I keep asking myself when this is going to stop! I can't handle seeing myself with such large hair! And the clickity clickity clickity of the tap shoes is like a slow and painful murder...unlike those quick and painless murders we all hope for. What are you trying to say to me Christopher Walken? Why is it ME you must torture??

DAMN YOU BLASTERS! You had a bazillion years to break up and you choose to do it milliseconds before I see you play live? Well...DAMN YOU BLASTERS! I guess if this sudden screwing of my Sunday plans procures more playing time for the Reverend, then really I should stop complaining. I wish Switchblade would come because he doesn't know what he's missing. The Rev. is so effing phenomenal live and last time we saw him, we got the short end of the stick because he had used up all his super rockin' songs the night before but it was STILLthemost rockin' of all time!! This time around we get the whole catalog of hits and I'm going to go BERZERK! I have to select the best outfit possible in order to showcase my devotion to the cause. However, upon going to Kauffman's to try on a mass number of their rockabilly inspired "party dresses" I realized that I am effing DUMPY and no one wants to see that so PANTS IT IS!!! And God curse the man who invented full length mirrors! One more time for posterity, let me add DAMN YOU BLASTERS!

Looks like The Knife owes Switchblade $10.00 which is pretty swanky. Switch can use the big 10 to get his DATE (yes, he has a full-fledged date with a rather cute member of the opposite sex) drunk on Wednesday. But will he be able to handle her crusty taste in music? We will have to wait and watch as the story unfolds.

In order to cheer myself up yesterday, I bought the pink sticker with the yellow bunny that says, "Hey, you made me throw up a little". I look at it and smile for a few seconds and then pout again because, hey, that's my style.

51. Brady Anderson
52. Richie Sexson
53. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!
54. Ephram Brown (I know he's just a character but I'd date him)

13 September 2003---2:32p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Kings of Nuthin' "Get Busy Livin' or Get Busy Dyin'"

That is so totally my new mantra. Last night...well...let's just chalk that up to a minor relapse in my regular moodiness. I obviously forgot about my new application of the "Brittney Murphy Guide To Life" and let a little cloud of doom bug me. But all is well now. It's an ass-slappin' BEAUTIFUL day out and I am going to enjoy the afternoon drinkin lemonade and drawing picture of weird cartoony people eating their own body parts. I'm in a good mood and hopefully this will just continue on. So sorry for being a sour grape. I'll blame it on hormones.

I rented the infamous movie featuring the character of "Todd Sparrow" and the only thing that would make this day better was if Meg-Dog was here to watch and make fun of it with me. Oh, Todd Sparrow. You haunt my dreams!

48. Dan Setzler
49. Tim Burton
50. Johnny Depp

12 September 2003---10:26p

I don't know if it's the death or the Johns (Cash and Ritter in case you live under a rock or even a rock formation) or if i't something in the water and/or air, but I've got the blues and everything, I mean EVERYTHING, rots and I'm having bad thought left and right. All of a sudden I'm doubting everything and feel pretty down right miserable. This is just a disgusting feeling so I'm going to put myself in a coma before I destroy something or someone I care about.

If anyone wants to cheer me up, you can buy me the t-shirt in the back of Claire's with the bunny on it that says You Make Me Want To Throw Up a Little in a size Large. Switchblade says it's the addition of "a Little" that's the kicker. That shirt is the only thing I care about these days because 8 out of 10 people do make me spit up into my mouth out of hatred.

Speaking of Switchblade, he's getting his Don Knots tattoo as we speak and no, it's not because of the untimely death of John Ritter. This was pre-planned. But maybe this event somehow influenced the poor guys demise. Hmmmmmm. Anyway, he seemed to be handling it like a trooper and if I would have had better music to listen to and maybe a book or my sketchbook, I would have stayed but alas, death by boredom was setting in and we all know deaths travel in threes (Wesley Willis, Charles Bronson, Warren Zevon, Johnny Cash, John Ritter...leaving room for one more) so...I'm off to coma it up.

12 September 2003---9:00a

Rest In Peace, Johnny Cash, dead at 71 due to complications from diabetes resulting in respiratory failure.

How well I have learned that there is no fence to sit on between Heaven and Hell. There is a deep, wide gulf, a chasm, and in that chasm is no place for any man.

I am heartbroken.

Rest In Peace, John Ritter, dead at 54 from a wacky dissection of the aorta, the result of an unrecognized flaw in his heart (and on 9/11 of all days!)

I once had a heated argument with Don Knotts. He looked me dead in the eye and said that I wasn't fit to shine Andy Griffith's shoes. I stayed up all night thinking about that and I said to myself, 'My God he's right.' The next day, I quit my job as Andy Griffith's shoe shiner. Once during a taping there was an actor who kept blowing his lines. It happened again and again. Finally Norman Fell came out- he wasn't even in that scene. But Norman came out and you know what he did? He killed the guy with a hammer.

I'm not so heartbroken as I am utterly shocked. What a bummer of a day.

11 September 2003---5:51p

I think it would most likely be tacky if I said "Happy September 11th" especially since I think I've seen that footage of people jumping to their deaths out the windows on the World Trade Center enough to fill ten horrific lifetimes. That still turns my stomachs. I feel bad for their families. If I was one of them, I'd probably be in my grave right now. So...moving along.

Hot dog, not only did I get to see Norm play Clint Eastwood on a rerun of "Saturday Night Live" but Burn Reynolds in an oversized foam cowboy hat as well??? This must be my lucky day (if you erase the part where that damn broad at the clinic took my blood without gloves AGAIN)!!!

If you get the time, somehow, illegally or otherwise, procure the song "Hey Ya" by Outkast. It confuses me all the way down to my core but maybe I've just been living a lie with a skewed view of what Outkast wants to project. I always thought "hip-hop" or "rap", to throw a few lables around hastily. But this song...I just don't know...there's quite a lot of rythmic hand clapping. In high school, I held a firm mentality that any song with hand claps was a-ok by me and damn, it still holds true. This song has poisoned my brain and it makes me feel sexy and slightly drunk because "where does it belong"? Muddle that around in your heads for a day or two. See what happens.

I don't think the Knife has quite wrapped his mind around this yet but when our spouses die, we are going to live together in domestic bliss watching movies and getting really dumpy while still shakin' up with various strangers, having no sexual obligations to one another. And even if he does because this hot-to-trot writer (I almost wrote LAWYER...it's a good thing the Knife is already privy to my wandering mind), if I win a huge lottery, not only will he still be my Personal Magazine Reader (take THAT Personal Umbrella Holders! What a bunch of sissies YOU are!) but he will also be hired to sing whatever songs I want on Wednesday nights at the venue I'm opening. Uncool people needs not even TRY to get in. This club is gonna have TWO velvet ropes!!

Meg-Dog bought me a pink present and won't tell me what it is. I hope it's not a naked Scottish man...they tend to be pink and to tell the truth, I have just about enough of them.

8 September 2003---5:35p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Jan and Dean "Take Linda Surfing"

For an entire year, I had a reoccurring dream that I was tap dancing with Christopher Walken to "Walk Right Back" by the Everly Brothers on a empty stage while hopped up on speed. This dream made a come back last night. My hair was longer and I looked pretty foxy in a top hat. Some people think you can't tap dance to "Walk Right Back" but they would be wrong. Dead wrong.

7 September 2003---5:17
This entry has been edited from earlier today.

I wonder if it annoys Pirate when I answer "noodles" to the question "What do you want from Olive Garden"?

Ugh. I hate being sick. I hate it more than anything. It is effing disgusting. I have had a runny nose, cough, congestion, headache...I've barely been out of my bed since Friday afternoon. I hope no one else gets this because it may be very closely related to the black death. Does this mean I'm going to miss out on my favorite end of summer activity, Art in the Park, today? Hell no. It just means I'll have to stash Day-Quil and an entire box of tissues in my purse!! (I did go to Art In the Park and bought myself a print of a little strawberry girl with a huge eyeball ice-skating with some freaky animals with wonkey eyeballs. I have now been influences to paint again, gosh darn it!!! And I WILL have a booth at AITP next year, mark those words!!! Who can help me make a website for my work once I get going??? Someone must lend me their talents).

I'm going to Disney World (on my honey moon) and you're not. I'll send you a postcard!

Let me give out some props N'Sync style to my dude The Knife who will soon enough be an "author" as they say. Props, man. Props. My Mom said that she'll run right out and buy a copy because golly gee wizz, she just loves the heckles out of that kid. I'm really hoping he'll let me take the picture for the book jacket for two reasons: first, it will be ridiculous and second, it will say "Photo By Lacey". Am I trying to hone it on his fame? You bet your sweet arse.

5 September 2003---1:35p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Liam Lynch "Fake Songs"

I know a lot more songs by "Bread" that I had first suspected and Howard Cosell looks suspiciously like one of the Pinheads from the 1932 sideshow film "Freaks".

Let us CHEER for it has been announced that Reverend Horton Heat is the very, very special guest playing at the BR-459/Blasters show. This has made the quivering in my loins start prematurely but the fire was ceased by the purchasing of tickets this morning. So many rockin' tunes in one night!!! If I could pick 10 "must hears", they would be as follows:

1. I'm Shakin'
2. Marie Marie
3. Bad Reputation
4. It's Martini Time
5. Baby I'm Drunk
6. Baddest of the Bad
7. Eat Steak
8. Where Did You Go With My Toothbrush?
9. Bales of Cocaine
10. One Time For Me
*I would like to NOT hear: Bath Water Blues, In Your Wildest Dreams, 400 Bucks, Jimbo Song, the Rev. version of Folsom Prison Blues.

Thank you and GOOD NIGHT!!

The song that Coldplay performed at the MTV Video Music Awards gets to me...emotionally. If my file sharing program was working properly, I would have downloaded it and listened to it 57 times by now (and cried myself insane silmultaneously).

It is the beginning of September and I have a cold right on schedule. I need someone to take care of me.

I have decided to get a rather large anchor tattooed on me somewhere equipped with rope, swallows, and all the other good sailor stuff but I haven't decide if I want to get Pirate's name or "No Grave But the Sea" which is from a Murder City Devil's song I like. I've been thinking a lot about the Murder City Devils'. In fact, this morning, Pirate asked me what I was thinking about because I had zoned out into a daze. Yep...I was thinking about the Murder City Devils. Rest in Peace, kids.

I decided today that I had poetry unless it is by Tim Burton and/or involves voo-doo dolls, mummies, or little goth girls that hold umbrellas and float. I DO however love the Loft and the Zephyr so that is where I will be, hopefully, with Brodie as WELL as Pirate and Switchblade, tomorrow night. It's time for me and a box of kleenex to fall into a deep sleep while watching "Party Girl". Job training tomorrow. Wish me luck.

42. Todd Oldham (once again, I don't care if he's gay)
43. Dr. Luka Kovac
44. Justin Theroux
45. Robert Schwartman
46. Oliver James (looks suspiciously like someone I dated in my youth)
47. The Naked Chef

4 September 2003---4:21p
MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Rocket 350 "American Grease"

I get really riled up when I turn my messenger on and it yoddles "YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" to let me know I have mail. H-O-T!

Time to get girlie, sorority style...I've got to get skinny or die trying. I hate my body. I think I've hated it since I was 10 and discovered thighs (only recently have I had the privaledge of discovering my HUGE and poorly distributed ass and spots that were so glamerously refered to as "saddle bags"). It makes me throughly horrified to be naked especially when I'm naked and alone (you know, the usual, gardening, homework, talking on the phone to Grandma...I didn't want you to confuse the situation with showering or swimsuit season). And don't mistake this for a cry of attention thing because (outside of the fact that I get embarrassed even DISCUSSING my body) I could give a fig about what other people think of me but when I start having nightmares about my "problem areas", then, well, there's a problem (or 3). I'm not going to go about this new skinny fascination all nutso either (but after I lose my hopeful 10 pounds, I will be prancing around in the same clothing Jennier Beals wore in "Flashdance"...not the welding helmet though). I'm going to do it the less psychotic way by eating better and exercising more (I took this cue as well as the "out with the soda" thing from Switchblade) and leaving the cookie tossing for the nights I drink too much.

I am not going to cut my hair for one year. Put that in your pipe and get cancer from it.

On a lighter and less crazy note, I HATE Paris Hilton and hope she dies in some horrible fishing and/or hunting accident. In fact, I hate all people with money. Is this nuts? No. It's the American Way. I hate that Jennifer Aniston looks like a perfectly normal person in a t-shirt and cargo pants that could have come from the Gap but instead were hand sown by specially trained forrest creatures out of threads manufactured out of mink eyelashes who now get horrifying headaches when they're out in the sun without hats. And I hate people who have mansions with 35 rooms. Who the EFF needs 35 rooms? How could you even possibly keep track of ANYTHING in 35 rooms? All I want is maybe 3 bedrooms, a front porch, a big (but not EXCESSIVE) kitchen, and a pool. Is that so effed? Do I need 8 floors and a valet? NO!!! I need a nap and some Valium (not in that order). Am I freaking out? It's possible that I just finally realized that my life is not going the way I planned and I'll never be able to afford plastic surgery or a personal magazine reader. CALIENTE!

I want a house just like Meg's when I grow up. I want everything to be clean and smell like wood. HOWEVER, I do NOT want it to be in the middle of nowhere where you have to sit in your car and pump yourslef up before running to the door, dashing in like a mad woman, looking out the window for murderers, followed by having to be walked to your car and throughly checking INSIDE for murderes. It's set right in the middle of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I'm not kidding. And I'm pretty sure someone was once murdered in the "fruit cellar". Regardless, it's the perfect housae to have a party (and to live...happily ever after because it's so beautiful) and I'm not just saying that so Meghan can lure people there to die.

I think I've lost my bearings considering I've actually been APPLYING MYSELF in school. Who knew?

1 September 2003---9:07p

Did you know that Saturday the 14th has a SEQUEL??? Neither did I! But I rented it along with 3 other flicks for a mere .50 because my new video store RULES and Pirate got a purple gumball out of a machine which is the color of the month! $1.00 off!!!! HOORAY!

Wow, what a weekend. The Rock-a-Hula Luau was a rock-n-rollin' s-u-c-c-e-s-s if I do say so myself. Pictures will be sent to everyone as soon as I get a second to regain a non-partying state of mind. I don't feel like digging deep into the gorey details so I'll just tell you that my friends rock (Meg-Dog in particular who was in the ultimate party mood and I crown Queen of the Luau, followed closely by King Drunk-a-Rama-Lama-Ding-Dong, Johnny Switchblade) and there were some odd occurrences involving the childhod game "Telephone" and eyeball licking. Did I throw up? Just to make room for the new juice. Did the cops come? They know better than to mess with the par-tay master. Thanks to everyone for coming and making this yet another good lookin' notch on my party bedpost.

I'm handing the party gauntlet over to Miss Kinney as far as Halloween goes (don't fret, we're all still on for the Kent Halloween festivities) because I need to focus on my Mourning Jackie O. duds and truthfully don't have the energy for another fiesta until New Year's Eve. In Halloween costume news, I lost my potential zombie JFK (DAMN YOU KNIFE!) which I think will be both shocking, brilliant, and offensive so I'm hoping either Switch or Brodie will want to take over. Come on! There's blood and brain matter involved, you sissies!

I spent all of Sunday in bed. I mean it. ALL DAY from waking at 8:00 to passing out at 10:00. I watched every station on TV, I ate food (chicken noodle soup prepared by Pirate to cure the hangover blues and a nice dinner prepared by myself to thank Pirate for getting rid of my shakes), and I napped which more or less involved me staring into space for 1/2 hour at a time while my brain recovered . It was heavenly. And Today was BEYOND heaven as I got to eat adorable steak all day long. I like steak. I don't trust vegetarians. They're clearly insane. Eat steak. Eat steak. Eat a big ol' steer. Eat steak. Eat steak. Do we have one here? Eat beef. Eat beef. It's a mighty good food. It's a Grade A meal when I'm in the mooooooooooooooood.

HAPPY 1st BIRTHDYA DOCTOR NIGHTMARE!!!