i may be addicted to this. but let it be known, my kitty rocks. she is freakishly revoltingly adorable, and she’s gonna win them kittenwars! recognize!
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category : filler, glee
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category : filler, music
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(1) you want me? fuckin‘ well come and find me…(2) meet me in outer space; i will hold you close, if you’re afraid of heights. (3) there’s a hole in my soul that we’ll fill with dope, and we’ll fill it fine. (4) i cannot save you…i can’t even save myself. (5) lay my hands on heaven & the sun & the moon & the stars; while the devil wants to fuck me in the back of his car. (6) i don’t wanna talk to you anymore…cuz i’m afraid of what i might say. (7) it’s been awhile…since i could look at myself straight. (8) i only see myself reflected in your eyes… (9) you make me hard, when i’m all soft inside. (10) i lost myself in your tainted smile again. (11) it’s only you, who can tell me apart; and it’s only you, who can turn my wooden heart. (12) intoxicated with the madness, i’m in love with my sadness.
::sighs::
life needs a soundtrack. bonus points if you figure it all out.
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category : filler
comments : nada mucho
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Leo (July 22-Aug. 22)
Your sex life is kind of staid as this week begins. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in the way of couples who wear evening wear to the dinner table and shake hands. After, they retire to the bedchamber for officious and respectfully formal coitus . . . I was going to say you should mix things up, especially with this weekend when adventure looms, but I think this dinner table scene sounds hot. So do that! Wear evening wear to dinner and be very formal. Use terms of respect in addressing your partner. Except when you get to the bedchamber, spread your legs and gnash your teeth and crawl all over them until you come like a beast who is being consumed from within by sexual depravity.
heh. oh nerve, how you amuse me…heh-heh heh.
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category : filler
comments : nada mucho
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|
You Know You Drink Too Much When… |
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Your doctor finds traces of blood in your alcohol stream. The back of your head keeps getting hit by the toilet seat. The parking lot seems to have moved while you were in the bar When you go to donate blood and they ask what proof? You think the Four Basic Food Groups are Caffeine, Nicotine, Alcohol, and Hotties. You have a “happy hour” at home When you are sober, people ask you what’s wrong? You spend all night making a board game called Alcohol Land Although you drove home the other night you can’t remember how you got home or where you parked your car “Hi ocifer. I’m not under the affluence of incohol.” Your favorite drink is ethanol. “Why does everybody think I have a prinking droblem?! – I don’t have a prinking droblem!” “I don’t have a drinking prob..pleb..prub.. *hic* Pash me another, tarbender.” You can spend a whole night holding up walls to prevent their (your) collapse. You instinctively know where the alcohol is in a store you’ve never been in before Clubs raise their drink prices because you haven’t attended in a while You think beer and ramen make a good breakfast You frequently urinate outdoors. When you first wake up and you’re afraid you’re gonna die and a half-hour later you’re afraid you won’t. You fall asleep taking a dump. You believe that spilling a beer is alcohol abuse. You go to the john to hurl, but you take your beer with you. You find it’s easier to study drunk. You’re on a first name basis at the detoxification center. Beer ads make sense. You wake up to the sound of your dog drinking out of the toilet and you’re so dry that it sounds mighty thirst quenching. You wake the next morning and start drinking a few of the half empties left sitting around the room. The space on your driver’s license that tells your eye color reads “bloodshot”. You fall down a flight of steps and DON’T spill a drop of your beer. You mix your cocktails by the litre. You grow a beard because it stops beer that’s running down your chin. You put off urinating in hopes of reaching that near orgasmic Zen-like piss. When the bottle says 20 standard drinks but you only get 5. You spell Alcohol with a capital letter out of respect You lose arguments with inanimate objects. You have to hold onto the lawn to keep from falling off the earth Your career won’t progress beyond Senator from Massachusettes. 24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case – coincidence?? – I think not! Two hands and just one mouth… – now THAT’S a drinking problem! “Norm!” is what they say when you enter the bar. You can focus better with one eye closed The parking lot seems to have moved while you were in the bar You fall off the floor. You discover in the morning that liquid cleaning supplies have mysteriously disappeared. Hey, 5 beers has just as many calories as a burger, screw dinner! Beer: it’s not just for breakfast anymore. The glass keeps missing your mouth. At AA meeting you begin: “Hi, my name is… uh…” Your idea of cutting back is less seltzer. You wake up in the bedroom, your underwear is in the bathroom, you fell asleep clothed. – hmm. Every night you’re beginning to find your roomate’s cat more and more attractive. If you’re on a diet, you cut back your food calories to allow for alcohol calories. “Take me drunk, I’m home!” You wake up naked lying in the corner of a bus depot. You drink to get over a hangover. You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends who drink too much. |
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category : filler, wrath
comments : (2) palabras
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according to this article on netscape, women want the following (commentary in italics, rant to follow):
- Saying “I love you” before, during or after sex doesn’t count.
um, like…who *didn’t* know that. but i’m skeptical of the L-word anyway now…you know, the whole “burn me once…” thing… mehz0rz. - When we ask you how we look, “fine” is not an appropriate answer.
yeah, right. like i’d ever ask the boy (or any boy, for that matter) how i look! - We obsess over whether you’ll call from the moment we give you our number.
…only if we’ve skipped our meds… - We fantasize. But it’s usually about you.
key word to note: usually. - We love it when you email us at work.
ok i have to admit, this is primarily true. work is boring as fuck. the boy and i email back and forth pretty much every day, all day. and it definitely helps to break up the monotony. besides, it’s fun. - No matter how cool we seem about it, if you did something bad, we’re pissed off.
what.evs. if a dude pisses me off, believe me, he KNOWS about it. regardless of who he is. - Don’t patronize us by asking if our bad mood is because of PMS.
any dude who values his testicles, knows this from birth. - Don’t ever tell us what to do, even when we ask you to.
why the fuck would i ask someone “what do i do now?” without wanting a fucking answer? that’s just stupid. how else do you think i learn how to play video games? - We will leave you if you lie to us.
big.fat.word. i can’t fucking stand liars. - We’re unimpressed by men who don’t take the lead. Be a man, dammit!
::shrug:: whatever. i don’t need a man to lead me around, in fact, if someone tried, i guarantee that i would react highly unpleasantly to it. most likely exceptionally violently. fucking gender stereotypes. - We love when you hold our hands.
…unless we’re feeling grody and icky. or need to wash our hands. or we’re trying to smack you and you hold our hands down…bastard. but on a whole, hand holding is kinda nice. - We need to hear how you feel about us. Tell us right now. And again in ten minutes.
again: only if we’ve skipped our meds and are completely psychotic, insecure bitches. jesus. if someone told me how they felt about me (good or bad) every ten minutes i’d be forced to shut them the fuck up. god, annoying! - We want to be the best thing that ever happened to you — and for you to know it.
what kind of girl wants to be an/a [ipod/xbox/inflatable doll/pizza/alcohol]? wtf? that’s highly conceited. and stupid. - If we don’t feel loved, we’ll start looking elsewhere.
well that’s kinda “duh”, but if you’re loved…you just…know. and if you require that someone reaffirm their affections every god damned day/hour/minute/second/whatever, then you’ll probably never be happy with anybody. because they won’t be able to meet your crazy expectations. - Don’t talk about your ex. Ever.
yes, forbidding someone to do something, ultimatums, commands, direct orders…those are all *smart* ideas. NOT. exes are tricky things, but if i can’t control when my psychotic loser ex gets randomly gets ahold of me, how am i to assume that a dude can? whatevers. exes are exes for a reason - We like porn, too.
::shrug:: i guess. i’ve never really watched any pr0n. (unless it stars your mom) - We remember everything about our relationships. Yes, everything.
gah. that’s unfortunately kinda true. but i don’t remember big “milestones” i remember completely random and inane things that just won’t go away. like, i don’t remember my first time, except for the vaguest details. but i’ll remember a conversation, or a movie or something crazy like that. or the color of a shirt, or something watched, something eaten or drank. it’s retarded. - We let you fix things.
define “fix things”? that’s stupid. if i can do something, i’ll do it my own damned self. otherwise that’s just lazy. - You’re sexiest when you’re: sweating, driving, shaving, or holding a baby.
the only way anyone is sexy while they’re holding a baby, is if they’re getting ready to grill that sucker up for dinner. babies = anti-boner. - We’ve faked it.
i’ve only had to fake it once. and that was the only time i slept with the party in question, and i don’t like to talk about it. - Groping and foreplay are not the same thing.
i suppose it depends on my mood, but it could be. mayhaps. still…random drunken bar groping by strangers. BAD LIST! - While we’re on the subject: more foreplay!
i think the prevalent thing out there is that women always complain about their sex lives. not enough forplay, no orgasms, etc. etc. etc. some women have good sex lives, damnit. and it’s a two-way street. if you’re not enjoying yourself, make an effort. maybe you’re partner’s not enjoying himself either. i mean, fuck. unless you’re “flying solo”, sex is *always* a two-way thing. what kind of picture does it paint when all guys here is how much women are full of disdain for sex? huh? er, i mean, i’m fine with the amount of foreplay in my life… ::cough:: - If we’re not having sex it’s because: we feel fat; we don’t feel very close to you, or we are punishing you for not doing something our way.
i agree on reason #1. sometimes i just feel icky. and i hate myself. but if i don’t feel close to someone (that sounds so tardish) then they would never be in a position where we’d be fucking anyways. how stupid. and #3? that is the dumbest thing ever. how is it effective to deny myself sex, too? huh? that’s so stupid! additionally, why would i punish a dude? what am i, his fucking mother? re-tard-ed. that sounds like something a 5-year-old-would do, a really perverted 5-year-old. - We’re afraid to meet your mother.
ok now this is 100% totally & completely true. (see also: driving me to drink) - We think you should have already known all this stuff.
yes, because being male means having fucking ESP. of COURSE! they can totally read minds! and we should totally expect them to!!!
you know what? I CALL FUCKING BULLSHIT!!
begin rant:
ok so like, one or two of those things were pertinent. *kinda* but the rest? complete fucking bullshit! no wonder there are such bad relationships between men and women! i mean, christ. what kind of co-dependent wussy freak of nature needs someone to say ‘i love you’ every 10 fucking minutes? no, seriously!?!?! i can’t fucking fathom that. but if anyone told me anything every 10 minutes i guarantee i would not be a happy camper. i’d be annoyed as all hell, and would not hesitate to bless them out for being such a fucking pain in the ass.
yes, it’s good to feel loved, and appreciated, and respected, and equal and all that other lovely stuff. but god damn, must there really be all these crazy requirements and such? seriously. how can you have an adult relationship when all you do is bitch about how your other half is not fulfilling you sexually and expect them to read your mind and anticipate your every whim while completely babying you and smothering you with affection? god that sounds absolutely awful!
and, ok, i know that bad sex occurs. i’m fully aware of that. but jesus. they always pin the blame on one fucking person, and it’s always the guy. like…always. i mean, if i were a dude my response would be ‘oh yeah? well you can go fuck yourself!’ seriously. i mean, if all i ever heard was “i don’t get enough foreplay, i can’t have an orgasm with you, i’m completely unsatisfied…blah blah blah.” yeah, well i wouldn’t be that fired up to fuck, that’s for damned sure. another point where the expected telepathy is just fucking wrong here. how will anyone know what you like, what you want, what you desire if you don’t say anything!?! and, it’s exceptionally hard for me to take my own advice here. seriously. because i hate talking about sex. or rather, i don’t hate it…i’ll do it…(the talking part, i mean)…it’s just. i get embarrased and all retardedly shy sometimes. but fuck, if there was something i wanted/didn’t want, i’d speak up! because if not, i have no right to bitch about it otherwise.
and i guess, most of this vitriol is fueled by things like this stupid fucking list– which as far as i’m concerned does nothing more than widen the chasm of male-female relationships — and disgustigly retarded things like this, which just make me wonder if the human race isn’t completely doomed, and that people should never interact with each other (and definitely not breed!) ever. no seriously. ever.
why does it have to be so complicated? there’s no reason for it. you know what i want? it’s really ridiculously simple. i’ll tell you:
- respect me
- be honest with me
- don’t fuck with my mind
- don’t fuck around (see also: honesty)
- don’t ever change and/or try to change me (see also: respect)
- laugh…a lot.
you see? how fucking simle was that? how easy? that’s all i want. seriously, all.i.want. anything else is a bonus. it’s that fucking simple.
man, i’m reminded again why i should never read crap like this.
end rant.
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from avatar:
- apples or oranges? neither, i prefer berries.
- convertible or suv? convertible, baby!
- drowned or shot? well, i suppose it all depends upon just *where* i’d be shot…if it were in the head or heart, sure. why not? but if it’s my leg or stomach or something that won’t kill me instantly? fuck that shit.
- boxers or brief? boxers all the way.
- janet reno or star jones? ugh, is there a lesser of two evils here? wait, if i get to pick which one i want wiped off the face of the earth: reno
- ass or feet? for what? wait, what am i saying. ass!
- guinea pigs or goldfish? i dislike fish, so guinea pigs!
- tattoos or piercings? tats, baby…tats.
- BD or SM?now, i don’t entirely know what “BD” stands for…and i’m sure i’m not into SM, so uh…buh?
- “perfect 10” or “hustler”? um…wha?
- “playboy” or “suicide girls”? i know a few suicide girls, so i’ll pick that one.
- spanking or restraint? mmmmmmmmmmrestraintsmmmmmmmm
- orgy or gangbang? orgy!
- peter north or ron jeremy? gross! double uber gross
- pamela anderson or carmen electra? (see above)
- implants or naturals? implants freak me out, yo.
- lingerie or nudity? you know, i think lingerie can be pretty. tasteful lingerie, that is. but it doesn’t particularly look all that great on me. nor do i think i look all that great nekkid. ::le sigh::
- handjob or fingerbang? if you’re doin’ it right, you can do both…just sayin’…
- still pics or video? i am kinda partial to stil pics, you can whip them out whenever (heh) you know…and keep them handy
- ky or crisco? buh? gross.
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