My Personal Ad Reads Like This:

I've had a boyfriend for about five years now. I'm not entirely sure how this has been working out. Being my boyfriend should be incorporated into Navy Seal training as a way to test mental strength. It's not that I'm a cheater or insist on using a strap on or anything. It's the little things. Little things that stick together until they form big things, like mountains.
      Everybody has that invisible scale or teeter totter in their minds that they use to weigh out the positive and negative sides of something/someone/oneself. I think my teeter totter looks a bit like Chris Farley on the negative end and a small woodland creature trying to balance on the positive end. I don't label this as self-depreciating humor. It's just plain and honest facts.
Reasons I am an unideal girlfriend. 
1) My appetite. I believe in eating every meal as if it's my last. I use my hands as small shovels to carry mass amounts of food into my mouth. The food is pasta, bread or cheese 97% of the time. Even some the overweight but lovable ex-cons that work in Locke's cafeteria at Manhattan College have told me to, "take it easy on the food."  
2) I don't wash my hands after going to the bathroom. I don't believe in washing my hands if I pee and ESPECIALLY if the only way of drying my hands is with one of those air blowers. The ones in the movie theater at Crossgates mall make yours hands look like their traveling through space at light speed. If you don't get bodily fluids on your hands, what's the point of washing them? 
p.s: I also don't squat  in public restrooms. This is not because I don't believe in it. I actually do believe in squatting. Unfortunately, I physically cannot do it. My legs just don't have the strength to allow my body to hover 2 inches away from the soiled toilet seat beneath me. 
3) I never answer my phone. It's not because I think I'm superior or that my time is more valuable than anyone else's. I just don't really prioritize texting. If you send me a funny text, ill laugh. If you send me a shocking text, ill gasp. I just think, "ill text 'em later." 

(I don't quite play like this, but this is the only picture I could find of a girl "playing" Guitar Hero.)

4) I'm obsessed with guitar hero. It's not even in a cool way, like that girl who can "chill out" with the "boyz" and play video games and drink a beer and not look like a raging lesbian. I would sit in my dark basement for hours upon hours playing, beating and then perfecting each song. When my mom would call me upstairs for dinner, I would grunt at her in frustration. That's when I knew I had to stop. I had been clean for a year until my recent relapse 5 days ago. 
5) I sneak books into the Barnes and Nobles bathroom when I have to
 p**p. And I ALWAYS have to p**p in Barnes and Nobles. Doesn't everyone? Is it the smell of books? Or the smooth jazz? Or all of those bran muffins? 
6) Not that I have actually followed through with this, but I really think that a bush is a good look for a woman. I'll try it out if I ever go to Europe. 
7) I enjoy watching my significant other sleep....and he has caught me on what he considers to be "numerous occasions." But compared to how much I've gotten away with doing it, I wouldn't exactly call the amount of times he's caught me, "numerous." 
8) I must have the t.v on every night before I fall asleep. The   brightness on the t.v is dimmed, the volume is at 3 and the station is tuned to channel 63 where I will watch episode after episode of Roseanne. Once asleep, I will snore like a mountain lion, steal your blankets, drool on your face and mumble nonsense.
9) I put ketchup and mayonnaise on my pasta and insist that you try it. 
10) I keep rage bottled up for weeks until I release it and possibly kick someone in the nuts. 
Now that I think about it, these may also be reasons not to be my friend. 

revenge of the nerd.

THIS BLOG IS FOR SCHOOL

SO TRY NOT TO FUCK IT UP 

WHO KNEW A GUY WITH PENS IN HIS SHIRT

WOULD LOSE HIS JOB FOR BEING CORRUPT. 

I WAS THINKING FOR A SECOND

AND I THINK I KNOW WHO YOU ARE

YOU'RE SHORT AND YOU'RE STUMPY 

AND YOU DRIVE A RED CAR. 

YOU'RE THAT COLD-HEARTED SOCIOPATH

MAYBE YOU GIVE OUT APPLES ON HALLOWEEN 

YOU LOVE TO LEAD AN AVERAGE LIFE

GOD FORBID SOMEONE MAKE A SCENE 

YOU'RE OBSESSED WITH CLEANING

AND MOWING YOUR LAWN

AND APPARENTLY WITH HACKING

SINCE MY BLOG IS GONE

YOU'RE MEAN TO ANIMALS 

SOMEONE I DON'T RESPECT 

SO WHEN MY BLOG WAS GONE

YOU WERE THE ONLY SUSPECT

YOU SAY THAT BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER 

YOU'RE IN FOR A SHOCK IF YOU GET WHAT YOU GIVE

BLOOD IS FROM INJURY AND WATER'S FROM SPRINGS

SO DON'T YOU FORGET THAT YOU STILL NEED WATER TO LIVE

YOU'RE THE ANGRIEST LITTLE BASTARD I'VE EVER MET

YOU AND YOU'RE FAMILY HAVE A DIRTY COMPLEXION

NEVER SEEN MISERY LOVE SO MUCH COMPANY 

BETTER START PRAYING FOR YOUR FAMIY'S REDEMPTION. 

YOU'VE GOT A REAL BIG EGO

YOU'RE A REAL SPACE INVADER 

BUT SUCH A TINY MAN 

CAN POSE NO REAL DANGER 

YOU LIVE BEHIND THAT PIXELATED SREEN

TALKING ONLY IN A BIT AND IN A BITE 

IT'S REAL-LIFE REVENGE OF THE NERDS

A BASEMENT-DWELLER CAN'T SEE THE LIGHT

I GUESS YOU SHUT IT DOWN

SINCE YOU DIDN'T LIKE MY VOICE

BUT I'M GONNA KEEP ON WRITING 

SINCE IT WAS NEVER YOUR CHOICE 

MAYBE YOU'LL RUIN THIS ONE TOO

BUT IT'S NO MATTER 'CAUSE ILL KEEP ON RECREATING 

YOU'LL ALWAYS BE ON THE LOSING END

SINCE THE ABILITY TO CREATE TRUMPS YOUR INSTIGATING. 

No Man's Land.

I'm really on the fence here. I can't decide whether I'm a man-hating, bra burning, Croc-wearing feminist, or if I'm the anti-feminist. The thing is, I hate one major thing about men (the control they assume they have over women), but I hate a thousand minor things about women. So, in my quest to understand my stance on feminism, I'm going to go through the shitstorm of reasons that it sucks not only to be a woman, but also to have to associate with women in general.

Women and photography:

If you happen to be a stranger that has been asked by a group of men to take their picture, you're in luck and it will take about 5 seconds of your time. Now, if you've been asked by a group of women to take their picture, you better have about an hour to spare, an extra roll of film and the patience of a special ed teacher. They will need to see the picture after you take it. I guarantee that they will want another picture taken immediately. And even though you counted 1..2..3..., one woman will shout out that she wasn't ready. Another woman will scream to you that she was blinking. After about the 6th photo, the women will gather around the camera and engage in some self-depreciating humor. "Good thing I look like a beached whale."

Women and the bathroom:

Doesn't matter where you are. You could be at the movie theater, a house party or a baseball game. The women's restroom will always have a longer line than the men's. BUT WHY?! I have no definite answer to this question. I only have theories. One of my theories is that women tend to be more self-concious than men. After they go to the bathroom, they spend an a good few minutes in front of the mirror fixing their hair and make-up. Another reason is that women tend to be cleaner than men. If toilet seat covers are not provided, women will construct their own out of toilet paper, bobby pins and hair spray.

Women and Facebook: There is an old quote that says you can tell a persons soul through their eyes. For women, you can tell a persons soul their their Facebook activity. I'm thinking of starting a service where I hand out journals and numbers of therapists to all of the girls who treat Facebook like their own personal diary.

Reoccurring status' and personal favorites: 

"ON TO THE NEXT ONE."

What it actually means: You have been dumped, ignored, cheated on or blown off by the guy you like and it's probably eating you up on the inside. BUT ON TO THE NEXT ONE.

"I hate dumb sluts."

- A status made by a dumb slut that will be liked by other dumb sluts. 

"I hate girls."

-a status made by a girl who apparently hates her vagina but hasn't saved up enough money for that sex change. If a guy made this his status, he would be subjected to gay jokes for years to come.

                                                                       quotes about loving their "haters." 

-the girl probably developed quicker than her classmates, started giving blow jobs too early and earned herself a bad reputation. Other girls and their mothers hate her because of this. This girl really doesn't love her haters. She's probably very sad that so many people dislike her.

quotes about being in love

.....mostly made by girls who aren't in love or in a relationship. 

Women and sex: There must be some sort of fluid that leaks into a female during sex. I'm not talking about semen. It's a chemical that turns girls into crazy bitches. What is it about sex that transforms independent women into slimy leeches that cling to their partners? Not to come down on sex or anything, but is an activity that can be represented using a donut and a hotdog really all that serious?

                                    + 

                                   

We appear to be the queens of unadmirable qualities. Queens of hypocrisy, of self-loating, of shallow sex, of vanity, of manipulation, of back handed compliments and of over-analyzing.

And they appear to be the kings of shotgunning beers, of cocky attitudes, of date rape, of domestic abuse, of sexist jokes, of creepy dancing and of  "make me a sandwich woman."

But because we have friends and relationships and feel love and laugh really hard, it must be true that people are not all bad. I bet even Jeffery Dahmer had a puppy he loved and a favorite snack.

Between the life of the feminist and the life of the anti-feminist, ill settle into the sand of this no mans land and be happy here for a little while.

It's Not Like I'm Collecting Toenails...

   It would probably come as no surprise to someone that I have a few fetishes. Not anything sick, but just weird enough to make me wonder if I'm alone in all of this. It's nothing too crazy and it's nothing that your mother can't read. I don't save my toe nail clippings in a box decorated with rhinestones. I don't peel off scabs and chew on them. I don't collect severed doll heads and smell their hair....anymore. 

   I have a small and very innocent fetish with looking up certain things on the internet. Most computer histories read Facebook, Youtube and maybe a porn sight or two. Mine reads a little bit differently, which is why I compulsively erase it.

   After a girl with the initials K.R signed my year book, "have a good summer DOMIFREAK", I came to terms with my weirdness. So after years of deleting my history, I'll share some of it with you.

   Here's some of my most recent internet searches:

Meth faces before and after.

HOW TO MAKE METH.

BOTCHED PLASTIC SURGERY. 

FEMALES WHO DON'T SHAVE THEIR ARMPITS.

GIANT JELLYFISH.

SERIAL KILLERS:

UNCIRCUMCISED PENIS' (I WAS CURIOUS) 

CHIMP ATTACK VICTIMS. 

Embarrassing youtube video searches. (not a fetish, but still pretty lame.)

Beautiful-Christina Aguilera. 

Landslide: Dixie Chicks. 

I Try-Macy Gray

that's all I'm revealing for now. 

Like A Deer In Headlights.

I've always hated the idea of hunting. (and most other things in life)

But then again, I'm opposed to almost anything that involves shooting and gutting a live animal. I first became seriously disgusted by hunting in 2002 during a car ride through a New Jersey interstate. With my face pressed up against the window, I fell deep into a kind of highway hypnosis. Metal and colors appeared and disappeared by the second and put me into a trance. I was startled out of this daze when I caught a glimpse of the car next to me. There was a dead dear strapped to the roof of this car with bungee cords. There was dried blood stuck to the fur on its face. It's limp body jerked and spasmed with every pot hole and lane change. What scarred me the most was it's tongue. It's tongue, drained of color, was hanging out of it's mouth and flapping around in the crazy highway wind. The guys inside the car looked like they just got done screwing their sisters. but that's besides the point.

       I love Big Macs and steaks and grilled chicken sandwiches and Jimmy Dean breakfast sausages, so I am in no place to condemn someone for killing an animal if they intend to eat it. But what I don't understand is why someone would ever hunt for the sport of it. I once assumed that people who hunted for sport were bound to grow up and be full- fledged serial killers. That is until I realized that these people fulfilled almost every negative stereotype ever handed to them (i.e incestuous, racist, uneducated) Knowing that these hunters were too dumb and too busy making moves on their siblings to be serial killers, I had some peace of mind.

Just out of curiosity, I want to know if I’ve got it right. Hunters dress up in camouflage jumps suits and hide in camouflage pop up tents in the middle of a forest probably littered with 'no trespassing' signs. YET THEY MUST TRESPASS AND HAVE THE BLOOD OF THE BEAST ON THEIR MOUTHS AND HANDS AND GONADS. But why spend money on the camoflauge if your going to put on an electric orange hat complete with ear flaps. I never got that part. The hunters sit with loaded rifles and wait for small woodland creatures to cross their paths. The man with the shot gun versus the bunny with no weapons, no thumbs and no warning. Sounds like a totally fair, manly and courageous activity. 

I DONT NEED TO BE REMINDED THAT DEER ARE OVERPOPULATED. People are overpopulated too, but killing one of them is punishable by life in prison. 

One day when things are fair, the deer and the rabbits and the bears will trespass into the woods that we call 'home' and sit camouflaged in hampers and in bedspreads and shoot us as we walk to the bathroom in the middle of the night or when we go to get a snack from the fridge. And instead of cooking us, they'll high five and open a beer and talk about how they did the right thing because people are overpopulated anyways. Later that night they'll turn on the news and shake their heads in disgust at all the stories about murder and animal abuse and unnecessary violence. 

Home At lasT peEople.

Really can't wait to return home to Albany Tuesday. Just some of the things I've missed about home:

I've missed the fat gossipy moms who live in Logan Manor. They really have a knack for raising kids who just emit mediocracy all throughout the neighborhood. 

I've also missed all the kkkeewl kids from high school. They're so kewwl and intelligent that they've even made up their own kewwwl language. 

It's cold out- It's brick titties.

It's really good-shits mad legit. 

lets listen to music-lets listen to that OD dub filth and get raunch.

She's ugly- bitch is beat.

yeah-yee.

lets get drunk- sizzurpin'.

Hanging with my friends-squad up/quad deep. A BUNCH OF WHITE KIDS FROM GUILDERLAND ARE NOT A SQUAD. THEY ARE A CLIQUE. 

seriously-deadass.

I'm really going to enjoy seeing all the dirtbags again. They complain about their family lives and about their lack of money. They mooch off of everybody and treat women like shit and have dirty fingernails and use the word 'nigger' to refer to their friends. YET they always have enough money to put together some kind of odd Nike hat and shoe combination. These dirtbags always have their expensive Nike hats balanced ever-so-gayly atop their heads and their colorful sneakers that are 5 sizes too big for their size 7 feet. 

I've missed the racist loser cops that pollute the streets like annoying summer mosquoties. 

I've missed my extended family that's always totally been their for me. They're never condescending at all and have never made fun of me for being a communications major! And none of my uncles are creepy perverts!

I've missed girls who say, "I thought I left high school drama behind when I left high school." A simple solution: STOP HANGING OUT WITH HIGH SCHOOL KIDS AT THE GOD DAMN HIGH SCHOOL.

I've missed crack houses in Albany. Such a beautiful capital. We even have a building shaped like an egg! There's only two in the world...probably because the architects realized what a dumb fucking idea it was to construct a building shaped like a broken egg. My brother would disagree with this because he thinks the egg is good for acoustic guitars or something. He's probably right.

Can't wait to hear people talk about the camp bisco line up and how they're totally gonna roll face. I mean, it's totally like Woodstock....except for the "musicians" are not really musicians as much as they are computer nerds who are good with a mac music sound board. 

People from home just love to be big fishes in a little pond. It's only a matter of before they they get hooked in the mouth. 

                                              Man... I cant wait to go home. 

bra burners unite.

Slowly but surely, I'm turning into a real lesbot. I feel like more of a feminist than I did when I was in the 4th grade and wanted to grow up and be the worlds strongest woman. 

it's stressful

'ya know

playing hide and seek

always half worrying

of getting raped or beat

it's not fair 

'ya know

being a girl 

men cast out their bait        

to catch a fish with their lure

it's hard

'ya know

when you see the truth

when it's man against woman

and gender trumps our youth

and it's not right

'ya know

being the victim of their lust

knowing we're scared of them

but they're never scared of us

and it hurts

'ya know

when you're running in heels

white blisters form on feet

skin dries up and then it peels

and it's sick

'ya know

'cause i can't find the perks

and every time they bare their teeth

it cant be a smile cause it's a smirk 

and it's annoying

'ya know

being scared of a man

don't know his name or his number       

yet i follow his command

and it gets noisy

'ya know

hearing all their heckles

doesn't matter what you look like

white, black, brunette or freckles

but that's life

'ya know

that's how it is for now at least

equal in the law but not on the streets

we're some form of the beauty

and they're some form of the beast.

'

4 whores, 1 viewer, 0 winners.

Before you judge me, please understand this: There is absolutely nothing to watch on t.v after 3am. I had to choose between the George Lopez talk show, Kathy Lee Griffin stand-up and Sex and the City 2. I chose to watch Sex and the City 2. Now, you can judge me. Actually, if you have the mental and emotional strength to withstand an hour of kathy lee's stand-up at any volume higher than 0, you can judge anyone. 

As insomnia would have it, I stayed awake for the full 2 hour movie. After listening to every failed punch-line and menial white girl complaint, I came to one conclusion; It is extremely important that you watch every Sex in the city episode and movie....if you want to end up alone. How these 4 nagging whores kept audiences watching for around a decade is a mystery so complex that it makes black holes and the Bermuda triangle seem understandable. 

It's really hard to appreciate the beauty of the city the women are staying in, Abu Dhabi, because of this horrible screeching noise in the background. At first I thought it was a recording of aids orphans being killed, but then I realized it was just the sound of these women complaining. As the women walk on the beach and eat lunch at 5-star restaurants, they are each complaining about something. "I'm not horny because I'm going through menopause/my book got a bad review and my husband seems distant/Harry didn't answer my text/I'm not fun enough at work." They all sigh and they all cry and unfortunately, none of them die. 

Throughout the movie, the women make ignorant comments about the hijabs that the native women are wearing, calling them embarrassing and degrading. They criticize these women as if their lives of fucking any guy who isn't homeless in NYC and making others listen to the problems of the privileged is a superior means of living. 

After the 300th outfit change, I was about to call it quits, but for some reason I didn't change the channel. I'm going to give myself the benefit of the doubt and say that my sleep depravation made me delusional. 

Later that night, I dreamt of 4 large vaginas chasing me through soho. What a nightmare. I guess I should have listened to my mom. She always said not to watch scary movies before bed.  

A Blow Job And Some White Stuff.

A poem about coke. I've never done it, its not aimed at you and I was bored during religion class, so don't get all fussy. 

Senses shot

Face numb

Hyper mind

Pull out the rug.

From under my feet

Put it over my head

Now things are dark

And reality’s dead.  

The people I knew

No longer find me credible 

The things I snort

Now placed on a pedestal.                  

Feeling like a star

But only when I’m high

Then I come down hard

Like an exhaled sigh.

But not of relief 

And not of suffice

Cause’ now life’s a gamble

Will you blow on my dice?

And out rolls the powder

White like fresh snow

Floating in the air

Now I’m ready to blow.

There’s a numbness to my lips

And a whiteness to my snot

And a little voice inside my head

And all it screams is ROT.

So chop it up

And lay it out

Then snort it hard

No room for doubt.

The feeling dies down

In ten minutes flat

Now I’m scrounging around                  

Like an old sewer rat.

All the powder I see

Crammed into my nose

Making life seem risky

Like an unthorned rose. 

But surely one day

Sober reality will hit

The money will run out

Cause I never gave a shit.

I’ll be sober and broke

No means of earning cash

To finally see what I’ve become

One big post-war aftermath. 

I’ll scream at people

Who don’t deserve it

I’ll mooch off family   

Become their burden.

I’ll smoke my weed

Eat some skrillz 

Snort my coke

Swallow my pills.

It’s so sad when I’m sober

I see my life in Guilderland

Then I need to take some drugs

And pray to God they filter in. 

They’ll take away my vision

And convert it to illusion

They’ll take away my conscience

And make its absence my solution.

I like to self-medicate

I’m a doctor, if you will

I write my own prescriptions 

And fill myself some pills.

I’m not going to stop

Not until it’s too late

I’m too high to reason this

So I guess I’ll call it fate.