worthless

so instead of wrapping up loose ends (aka PACKING MY ROOM) I am sitting and watching My So Called Life online and chattin' up random lesbians (uhm just one actually) that live in Wisconsin. My advisor keeps tryin to get me to minor in ART(fart) since I have so many fucking credits and I have to have a minor of some sort, but I think I will do African-American Studies instead, and then I will move to Compton and write a book about being a teeny-tiny white woman living in the hood with all the Bloods and Crips and shit. Oh wait. Already been done. But I think I will minor in African-American studies. I hope that doesn't come off as presumptuous. Like, if I met a dude (with male genitalia) that majored in Women's Studies I think I would just get really pissed off. But I am super crazy about men and them gettin in my shit and shit. Bookcase and I were talking during some part of our journey to/in/around/from Savannah about why she walks into a bar and like three dudes (non-genitalia specific) want to get down on one knee and propose, or atleast date her, like LEGITIMATELY date her and then when I walk in a bar I get dudes (no explanation necessary) that want to hump and dump. It kind of pisses me off. She (and my sis') say it is because I am so uhhhhmmmmm aggressive, or uhmmmmm, overwhelming, but I don't consider myself aggressive or overwhelming, I consider myself assertive and passionate. So yeah, take that all you humpers and dumpers. Whatevs, not like I haven't done my fair share of humping and dumping, and I could quite easily slide back into sex for fun mode, but that would just make no sense, considering I have made it so long with out sex. It will be interesting to see if I can remain celibate while surrounded by attractive people and NOT living in my parents basement. Let the true test begin I suppose. I move in five days. Hopefully some of my bjam boys will be coming to visit me my first weekend there, which would be so perfect as I would prefer a cuddle puddle in my bed my first nights there as opposed to a co-dependent molesting of souls which is what usually happens in my bed every night between me and Sofie. I hope she likes Savannah, I hope she likes living by herself, I hope she doesn't become lonely and depressed with no one around while I am gone. Skore, the Best of Cream just finished downloading now I can listen to it while I "pack". Peace.

bunnieshiphopdiscolove

I can't wait to paint my apartment. The only things I will miss about ATL are: Jeff and H&M. Bummers.

weepy deepy n shit

I have always said that when I look at the past and all that has gone on in my life that I feel no regrets. These past few days have kind of gotten me wonderin' if that is just an easy way to cop out of dealing with issues and and all this self-hatred I have for myself. It is all a weird cycle for me, addiction, because when I am not a full-blown addict (coke, sex, painkillers, benzos, throwing up, whatever) I am constantly hitting myself over the head for the times that I was. Then I create these crazy high expectations for myself, expectations to make up for "lost time", expectations that are absolutely impossible to reach and then I get so depressed about never reaching my goals that I swing in to some sort of addiction. I just need to admit to myself that I do regret some aspects of being an addict (past, present, and future), but really I shouldn't, because yeah I did some real fucking shitty things, and I hurt a lot of people, and I was basically a big ole' turd, but I learned so much, I know more about myself than most people, and I am sure, one day, knowing how to create the perfect line of powder on someone's stomach will come in handy. Just not in the drug way. Maybe in the sexy sex powder kinda way. I dunno. On that note, hurrr:

Missed Connections Part Deux

Us: sorry about hitting on you via our blog since you have a super cute lady.


You: probably didn't even know we hit you up. but we did. our bad.


On to more important things. I live in Savannah now, I don't know what that means, but I do. Hopefully Bookcase comes soon, cause I might wander into a gaggle of people with guns who want all my money. Which would be alright because I don't have any, but I will give them my cigarettes I guess, because that is what I spend my money on, so therefore the most valuable thing I will be carrying. Besides my cellphone, but it's Sprint, and no one wants that. Thing is I lived in Birmingham for two years and never once did I turn a corner on a dark night and fear what might be on the other side. Last night I did that. Butt I will blame that on Raisin Bran ruining any idealism I had about race relations in Savannah. Pft.



P.S. instead of BEING mugged, Bookcase and I will be DOING the mugging. don't worry though, we will give you a klonopin before hand.

Missed Connections

You - most adorable thing in Marc by Marc Jacobs store, called us out on our "chastity blog".

Us - well, obviously we are us.

Might be love, or not, might be love with your adorable friends that I am sure you have. Whatever the case may be, we will be at Hang Fire, a bar where apparently shirtless boys (heterosexuality questionable) grind on each other. Come grind on ME, or Bookcase, preferably me though, since Bookcase has a boy at home and I hear he is the jealous type. Plus I am hornier than her. TONIGHT.

updates yo

so we are in savannah. right now. literally as i type. linze just got a motha fucka job! IN YO FACE BITCH COOKIE! and we are apartment hunting all afternoon. both of us are on cute boy/girl overload and poota looks like she could sophie hump the next bearded tattood dude who bikes by. lesbians are in shorter supply but we are keeping our eye bawlz peeld.

if anyone is out there, in savannah, and reading this, please please let us know. we would love to hang out with you.

apparently

I have slut written across my forehead.

the dream

last nite i had a dream that a woman was downtown munchin on my muffin, but this wasn't just any ordinary munch, this lady could tell me everything about my soul the more she munched. it was awesome and so romantic! like best sex dream ever. not only am i getting my pussy ate, but i am getting told how totally rad i am by this girl who doesn't know me but can sense my radness from my vag juice! AWESOME! that would make drunken random sex totally worth it, because if you tell how someones soul was by just sharing a sexual experience with them, or how they tasted then you wouldn't have to do the whole post drunk sex dance: "do i call them, are they gonna call me, is it worth it, blah blah blah". you can just be like, eh, their soul tasted kinda shady, not gonna respond to their text tonight. but i mean i wouldn't really want to try this out on boys, because I am not a huge fan of jizz in my mouth. sometimes, but uh, not really. lady juice however, totally cool. man i wish dreams were like real life.

speaking of dreams, i'm fukin obsessed with this song these days, and i am totez stoked to have kanye spittin the ryhmes again.