incoherent intoxicity’s blog

i seriously thought all my asshole relationships were behind me and that not being in my twenties any more would mean that i wasn't going to be 'dating' narcissistic babies for the rest of my life.

WRONG...

gyaiishh.... at least it was fun to out him on my facebook page. no i didn't mention him by name, but a true detective wouldn't have too hard a time figuring it out...

sundays suck...

she

is

circling

the

drain

my poor son, the way he steps up to the plate and falls asleep by nine....

care what anybody says: there's coyotes in the neighborhood, and they an't too crazy about the fire antics hither and yon.....

'you on? long day?'

'yeah, just about to get dinner'

'pointless food-related anecdote'

*steve is offline*

i guess it goes without saying that i didn't shatter his bedsheets sunday night....

i'd better put a repeat performance, to say nothing of anything more substantial, out of my mind...

so glad i wasted what could have been two perfectly productive days floating around in a post-coital cloud.

my evil side.

i meant what i said in my facebook post. and i WILL take power of attorney away from my siblings.

her name's not 'marsha'.

you cannot legally enforce a document in which the primary's name is comically misspelled.

it's been fun..

(btw: it goes against the grain of proper english usage to hyphonate: 's as a substitution of 'has'....

~lawyer/teacher's daughter)

nights get a little bit longer

ahahahaaohohohoh...

i cannot get that song out of my head.

~always be your fat mom

around tonight?

you'd think he'd have been more appreciative that i found his house.... talk about your exasperating eastside exurb: signs for 'camp somenativeiteration' are trumped by entrances to grand subdivisions with names like heather knolls and exile awaits. good thing i put four figures into the car this week.

i've officially decided that party/dating protocol involve the words: 'did you have any trouble finding the place?' accompanied by a stiff drink offered from the bar -- a straight shot from the front door -- and a willing seven-year-old-girl awaiting yet another exhilerating opportunity to open the door and whisk your coat up to (her sister's bed) room at the top of the stairs. the coat room. that's a nice touch.

forgive me the indulgence of this childhood flashback, but my parents had some serious fucking class. even if it was all pretense..

are we really going to sell this place?

but my crummy computer keeps blocking it so i'll probably hit the libe. only prob with that is whether it's so many pages it's cost-ineffective to print it. maybe i'll just take notes..

tired. i need boundless energy, stat!

plus i have to figure out this borrowed digicam. i can't take nakey pix of myself if i don't know how to delete 'em before returning it...

lol

no...

i'm not kidding.

~manuel sony

it seems as if heather's ill-guided attempt at getting mom a tv has finally borne some fruit. here's some footage as she attempts to undo the damage of six hours away from the house. note the tearing of the power cords away from the wall as she realizes her patience doesn't extend past reprogramming all the mess that gammers has wrought.. back to you bob..

in a related story, the mystery of where heather's son has been residing the past four days has been solved. setting up gammers' old cpu in order to look up phone numbers and track down his best friend has brought us closer to to our target. henry, his vietnamese-born best friend (native name: hai) was more than happy to come forth with the obvious: bennet has been at his house for four days. though sustaining a conversation with his mom rattling on in the background in his native tongue must have proven challenging at best, it was determined that his family will have him back tomorrow, or maybe monday....

should i submit this to the onion?