greatest song in the world for right now: they might be giants - "the spawning of the cage and aquarium"

holy fishnet stockings, batman!

i'm drinking my coffee out of a mug with flowers and lace and all that on it and it says "i think you'll like this mug...cuz it's got a lot of flowery shit all over it." pardon moi, but that rules.

i'm having one of those days where i feel really gross and/or greasy and/or nasty and/or smelly. because of this, today i will meet a lot of attractive girlies who will not pay any attention to me. it always happens that way. now i bet you're thinkin "awww...toastie poo...that sucks." no, this is a very good thing. you see, when i meet the aforementioned attractive girlies today and they don't pay attention to me, i will know that it is because i am really gross and/or greasy and/or nasty and/or smelly and not because i am a generally unattractive human being. therefore, i will laugh to myself smugly thinking that if i were all cleaned up they'd be on my nuts and then i'd be all like "sorry bitches and hoes...i got a girlfriend who by the way is ten times more beautiful than your big-tittied selves." and then they'd cry. this is a confidence booster because it takes my mind off the fact that i, in all actuallity, am just not that attractive of a human being and focuses my lack of charismatic magnetism on my present hygeine. self-actualized delusion rocks my ass.

i was reminded today of brittney's bed. i remember not being able to sleep one night and walking over to her house and wakin her up at like 4 in the morning asking if could sleep there. she said yes. i flopped down on her bed and about fifteen minutes later woke her up again to inform her of the startling revelation i had made which was "your bed is like a giant diaper." her response was something to the effect of "well that doesn't mean you can piss in it." i agreed that although the similarities were uncanny, they were, in fact, two completely different objects with completely different uses and i would not cross that line. i did blast ass a couple times tho.

that reminds me of those signs that say "i don't swim in your toilet so don't pee in my pool." i've often thought it would be quite the interesting scene if one day a man was caught peeing in the pool by the propriator of said pool and was grabbed by his hair and thrown in a vehicle. the vehicle then drove at great speeds to the pool-soiling man's house where the pool owner yanked him out of the car and walked him at gunpoint to the front door, telling him to unlock it. the pool owner would then yell out "where's the bathroom, buddy?!" and the pool-pee-er would show him. the pool owner would then stick his feet in the toilet and make swimming motions laughing defiantly and screaming "how do you like it?!?! huh?!?!?! it's a two way street buddy!!! this is great!!! oh i love swimming in this toilet!!!! oh yes!!!!! you fuck!!!!! this'll teach you, you pool soiling fuck!!!!!" although this scene lives vividly in my head, i brush it off as fantasy and nothing more. tho i am sure one day...probably in new mexico...my fantasies will become reality...and i will watch it on COPS whilst tweaking my nipples rhythmically, savoring the manifestation of my inner desires like a hotpocket between the legs of audrey hepburn circa 1953.

rock the parcel.

uh huh.

word.