i have a cool new printer. and i got it cheap too. and i saw the light when my insurance company tried to assrape me and called their competitor. who proceeded to save me a cool $2400 per year. with four times the coverage. so now i can actually afford to kill myself with cigarettes. yay!

FUCK i love saving money!!

only seventeen
looks better on you than it
sounds in winger songs.

if i had the chance to nail a seventeen year-old innocent who got a little too drunk and professed his love for me during a weeklong vacation i have to believe that i would do it.

i might feel guilty afterward though. for like five whole minutes.

yes he will hate me later. but he can always remember me fondly once the bitterness passes. and i will have five notches in my virgin belt instead of just four.

it’s fucking karma, man. he is probably the reincarnation of some asshole who fucked me over or some bitch who stole my boyfriend in another life. and this is already in the books, he will probably have a chance to get back at me two thousand years from now anyway.

blue eyes, crying in the rain.

damn, that guacamole went straight to my ass.

i quit or got fired, i am not sure which. she upbraided me in public instead of asking to see me in her office.

i confronted her (later, in her office) and rebuked her for her unprofessionalism. she said maybe i was just pmsing or something.

i don’t work for a chauvanist female boss any more, though i’m not sure if i said “i quit” before or after she said “you’re fired”.

fuck her aromatherapy and feng shui and teambuilding. fuck her website. and fuck her too.

this time it was puffy and ashton and keanu. ashton was showing me the ropes of producing, which he learned from puffy. they shared a mansion and threw crazy house parties like 24/7.

i am in love with you.

you are extraordinarily cute, particularly when dancing barefoot with abandon on beige carpet. your lips shine. you are curvy and real. you stride confidently from here to there, with dark hair going flip-flip down your back.

please call me. soon.

it is different i tell you, different!

mostly because it is me and not you and i live in a rosy little world inside my head which is somehow above everything and everyone. like it is okay for me to crimp my hair but it does not look good on her, ever.

know what i mean?

soulless wants to know:

Q: Courtney Love, Christina Aguilera, Janis Joplin. Rank them. What are your
criteria? What are the differences between them?

A: hotness: courtney, christina, janis.
technical ability: christina, janis, courtney.
hair: courtney, janis, christina.
listenability: courtney, janis, christina.
scandal: courtney, christina, janis.

i would not want to date any of them, even if janis were alive.

Q: Keeping an ‘anonymous’ blog anonymous is tricky. Or is it? What are the
benefits in your opinion? Are there any drawbacks or restrictions?

A: it is tricky. it is freeing and yet binding at the same time. i can be utterly honest, when that honesty is something nobody would expect from me in real life; however sometimes i cannot be utterly honest because it would indicate all too well my identity. i like not having to answer to anyone though. and being able to say “fuck” a lot.

Q: Life is short. What are three things you want to accomplish before you die?

A: um. it would be cool to have just enough money that i didn’t have to worry about the bills ever. i don’t want to be filthy rich though because that would suck. having a hummer is nice, i already accomplished that. i would also wish to have ray bradbury as a faithful reader.

Q: What experiences have you had that didn’t seem important at the time–but now stand out as life-changing events?

A: pretty much everything that happens to me is life-changing. i really can’t think of anything at all… wait. losing my virginity seemed no big whoop, but it led to six or seven years of emotional torture and ultimately taught me how to stop a roller coaster when the brakes are broken.

Q: What do you want, more than anything?

A: for things to be the way they were, with her. she knows it too.

damn, i disappoint me. none of these answers are nearly flip enough. i mulled them over for a week, too… possibly i am losing my touch?

cheested up the malenky blogroll real horrorshow. not skorry enough, many of them like chellovecks and devotchkas got starry and don’t govoreet no more, o my brothers.

now, says i: too many, i viddy, skaz “girls in the bag”. thou shalt remedy this quickly, droogies, or meet with my britva and slooshy no more of the in-out-in-out such as you likes to viddy ’round these parts.

taxes.
overtime.
shopping.
stats.
culture.
doctors.
flight reservations.
cooking.
cleaning.
not having enough sex.
i say again, not having enough sex.

probably it is my fault though. i have no energy at the end of the day (or the beginning for that matter). which is also why your e-mails have not been answered. you thought you were only one? silly boy! there are many in queue…

must figure out a way to play hooky mid-day somehow and squeeze in much sex accompanied by shots of something strong. kamikazes maybe. or just my old friend tequila?

fuck. someone get me a beer.

yes, i got your e-mail. i have been horrifically busy. will respond/comply with request very soon, promise.

there is a fine line between courting and stalking. no, really.

love,
emmie

p.s.: you are really hot and i love your sleeve. call me.