MY FINGERS SMELL LIKE PENNIES
Cuz dat ass is makin’ me change
Seriously, I just looked back at the pages on my blog from 2 years ago. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I’m crazy.
Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been an undetermined amount of time since my last confession…
*I stared at a person across from me on the train and I didn’t tell them they were ugly. They needed to know. I’m sorry.
*I ate meat on friday’s during Lent because I have a lust for meat that cannot be fulfilled by fish and it’s stupid relatives.
*I called my cat a slut. And enhanced it with pointing angrily.
*I had a dream about 2 dogs in my apartment. They were very clam but big dogs. On was a Australian Kelpie and the other from ‘Bud Air’. I was trying to read the tag so I could contact the owner. The numbers were 516-639 and the last 4 I couldn’t remember. I played the numbers in the lottery and didn’t win. What the fuck.
*I work on Sundays. Strutin’ dat ass.
*I don’t plan on seeing ‘The Passion of the Christ’. I plan on having Monica Bellucci to reenact it with hand puppets wearing a spaghetti thong and a “Push It To The Limit - Safety Not Guaranteed” tee shirt. Make it happen.
*I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past life, especially for the ones I haven’t even done yet because I just know they will be epic.
2 Hail Mary’s
5 Our Father’s
1 Reciting of scene from “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles” when Candy puts Martin in his place!
and Weird Scenes Inside the Gold Mine session
"You know you’re like the A-Bomb, everyone’s laughing, having a good time, then you show up…BOOM everything’s dead."
while deleting numbers off my phone, I come across “nick”. “Who…wha? Nick? Who the hell is that?” I still haven’t found that answer. I remember going to some site religiously, and visit this chatroom and this “Nick” hosted it. There were these people that would always be there too. Bolt? MySpace? I have no clue.
fuck it, I sent him a long ass text. There’s a 99.9% chance he thinks I’m nuts or actually remember me.
no card, I hate cards.
no promises. they’re never followed through.
just another day I potty train my son while he (my son) watches the ninth gate.
Just another day.