Archive | August, 2009

i hate lindsay lohan.

30 Aug

Downloads1harping back to conversation that natalie and i have had about searching “i hate beyonce” or i hate…anyone,  i would like to give my imput. i hate lindsay lohan, because i think that she is a silly slut bag.  i am watching georgia rule for the second time. the first time, i actually wasted my money in theaters seeing it -i can be happy that at least this time i’m watching a bootleg copy, and not wasting money that could have been better spent on ebay.

this movie is shitty, for no reason outside of lindsay lohan’s awful, awful acting skills. i don’t understand how a person can continue to be an “actress” when that person has no ability once so ever. if i fucking lost a hundred pounds and started doing crack, could i be an actress too? outside of the fucking parent trap, freaky friday and confession of a teenage drama queen, i personally see nothing else decent on her plate -and those movies are only cute but by no means impressive. the thing that she is most famous for as of lately is stalking her ex-girlfriend. biddie needs to grow up and get some business about herself, aside from doing crack cocaine, DUIs and dancing on the highway. what a dumb dog. this all only really upsets me because i don’t hate her as much as I should, and i still watch her movies because i always expect that she will turn her shit around. i’m the one that’s always wrong though. so i guess the joke is on me. –however in lindsay’s defense, it could be her voice that bothers me, also the “i’ll fuck your boyfriends” scene in Georgia Rule isn’t terribly acted, AND the movie just kinda sucked. btw, i loved Jane Fonda 😀

my.vida.in.boxes.

30 Aug

so rather than spending this night, doing any of the random things I could have been doing. such as drawing, crafting, watching a movie, reading a book or writing, i have been fine toning my schedule for next year. it’s ridiculous. i must have been on dope when i came up with some of that shit. there are days that i signed up to work in founders for three shift…three shifts. what the hell is going on with me. to better having spent my eveningIMG_2401 creating a schedule for myself for the upcoming school year, i have also been filling out scholarships. what has become of me. what is this responsibility streak that sometimes come over me like dark forecast? i am not a fan. i should be reading slight erotica masquerading as a literature, or watching a movie that i’ve seen three hundred times. I suppose that I ought to be proud of myself. yay, then i suppose. yay. —here is my schedule, however it’s tentative.

“Expedition”. Short story. Incomplete.

24 Aug

The living room table was turned over, and the bottles and glasses that it must have worn were on the ground, smashed into maybe a hundred pieces. Beer cans and paper plates were spread over the couch and poured over to the floor, acting as breadcrumbs, leading toward the filthy kitchen.

We had to kick our way through broken things to get to her bedroom, where the door hung off of the hinge and leaned against the wall.

The bedroom smelled foul, like mold and an animal left to die in the sun. The walls were dirty with hand prints and dead insects. Spider webs were stung up in each corner like Christmas decorations.

Sandra let go of my hand and moved around the room, picking up her belongings. The mattress that sat in the corner was where she’d slept for sixteen years. It was yellowed from the urine stains of her or one of her six older siblings, and the springs from inside were exposed.

She picked up clothing quickly, not looking up because she was embarrassed. It was good a thing she didn’t, because she would only see the sympathy in my eyes. It was the first time that she’d invited me over, and it’d be the last.

I covered my nose with my left hand and started to pick up trash with my right.

“Don’t,” Sandra said with a quiet voice and continued to shove things into what looked like a child’s backpack. I laid the crumbled paper back down on the floor and straightened. I rub my hand against my jean skirt and watched her movements, quick and shaky. She didn’t know if running away was the way to go; she didn’t know how it would all end if her father caught up with her. I’d convinced her it was the right thing to do though. She’d been beaten and bruised in a broken home, and on several occasions would come to my house, crying after a forty minute bus ride. Her flesh blackened and ripped like worn money. I needed her to save herself.

Sandra pulled a deteriorating teddy bear from the side of the mattress, rubbing its face. It was her bear, Leon. The first night she’d slept in my bed, she told me about him. He kept her from feeling alone through her parent’s screaming fights and he was always there to collect her tears. Sandra maneuvered him into the bag and then turned to me.

“Finished,” she said, moving toward me. She flashed me an unsure smile, grabbing my hand and I followed her out of the room.

We walked quickly through the mess, stepping over everything she was leaving behind, including the scuff marks on the floor from the most resent clash.

We headed down the stairs back toward my car. I could hear the people in their apartments. They were talking, shouting, yelling, and screaming. We reached the car within minutes after crossing the parking lot.

I started the car and turned to survey her, making sure that she was okay. She seemed fine, and if she wasn’t, she would never tell me. She kept things bottled up, and wouldn’t talk about something unless I nearly begged. If I grew up the way she had, I would hold as many things as I could close.

I cleared the parking lot and headed north on Dearborn, toward my house to pick up my things. We’d trumped a childish  plan  where she would run away, move in with me and my parents would adopt her, but we knew that would never happened when my mother walked in on Sandra giving me oral sex. My mother hasn’t looked at me the same since, and Sandra couldn’t sleep over anymore. That’s when I decided wherever Sandra was going, I’d be with her.

We were going to travel like we were Thelma & Louise, except we were lovers, and I’d hope not to kill anyone or drive off a cliff. Or were like Bonnie & Clyde except no robbery or death. We were like Lewis and Clark, except for the obvious reasons, and we were on an expedition.

I pulled in front of my small, comfortable house on Haden Ave. The suitcase was already packed and in my closet waiting for me. It carried my clothes and all the necessities.

The goodbye was left on the nightstand beside a nightlight that I’d had but never actually needed since I was about nine. I moved back out to the car, never missing a beat and climbed back into the car. She was staring out the window, and then smiled when I’d finally gotten back into the car.

To be continued.

“Stamp on carpet”.

23 Aug

Like a spinning top, I move fast but I’m still.

When I stop, I fall and I hit the ground,

face down. I bleed out from the mouth,

but no one can hear me cry in my lonely room.

Blood pours from me like a spout

or a faucet. I rub at it with my sleeve and it smears

across my tattooed heart, just below the wrist. I kiss

the carpet to stop the flow and I stain the floor.

dumb dog.

18 Aug

so this goes for a couple people, beginning with both myself and my dumbass cousin. firstly, i am a dumb dog because i decided to sign on with my father for these last few weeks because i’m a money hungry ass, despite me hating it. actually, am not as money hungry as i am needy. -i need to just strike rich some way or another. maybe i’ll win big hitting the lotto, death of a long lost relative or a random gift from a stranger. any of those, i wouldn’t mind.dumb dog

dumb dog #2 -my stupid fucking cousin who didn’t want to turn her timesheet in so she could get paid. literately all she had to do was send me her timesheet, by way of car, fax, scanner or even fucking camera and this girl does nothing. i tried to contact her at least four times this weekend and no response. and when i talk to her just thirty minutes before the timesheet is due she tells me, “i can’t get you the timesheet today”, as if there were an option of her giving it to me at any other time. all i have to say is, if she calls me asking me about money or whatever, i’m gonna tell her to just go ahead and fuck off and just cartwheel off of a cliff. I don’t see the point of her wig-sporting ass hustling to work (albeit, late) if she were gonna just forgo her check, not that she actually deserved it anyway. what a lousy asshole.

–dumb dog three, not previously listed is my father who you could have probably assumed. i’m looking at him right now. he’s sitting there sniffing and looking around the living room like he’s lost or something. -my mother asked him a question and he didn’t respond like he didn’t understand or something, and we all know he did. i hate when he plays the foreign card, because he uses it so fucking often. his excuse for not knowing how to use the internet, the fax, the phone and just about anything else.

a bonus dumb dog is my sister who decided to leave her fish in my bedroom. honestly i love the fish now because i have to and i clean their water and i feed them. but at least initially, the incentive was not to wake up to seven fish floating to the top of the tank, or drifting in middle (as natalie told me they sometime die). natalie and i are there surrogate mothers, and i’m starring at the moving fish right now and am happy to see them. i am considering feed them again, i think that i might.

one of the dumbest dogs of them all, my next door neighbor, who is essentially keeping a fucking kennel in his backyard. his dogs yell, scream and bark all day long. it gets so very annoying. i swear i could just whoop that guy’s ass, if only i didn’t think his low-lifed ass wouldn’t let one of those damn dogs loose to gnaw at my flesh as i’m left screaming like fucking olive oil from popeye. not a fan. i like my life, i don’t want spare it over a disagreement about a pooch.

damn dumb dogs.

without a (tooth)brush

7 Aug

many things irritate me beyond comprehension, one being passive fathers and another being brothers who steal your toothbrush out of the medicine cabinet to clean their shoes with it, then say nothing as you rant down the halls about your missing toothbrush. a shabby admission is all that i received from him, no sorry because apparently he sucks ass. he says that he thought the toothbrush was old, despite being covered. but what is that? who takes a person’s toothbrush and cleans their shoes with it? fucking ridiculous. i deal with madness on a daily bases. daily, i tell you! not a fan, also actually am not a huge fan of the exclamation mark either, however it is too late. it’s a fallen soldier, am not going back. i suppose that i have tp somehow forgive the fact that he stole my toothbrush, though no apology was administered. as a very wise sister told me, “he’s just an idiot.” i suppose that i just have to deal then. i haven’t really a choice.images

pathetic little website…to be developed

7 Aug

www.wix.com/starbravado/goodie 😀