Due to an upsurge in my pants…. and interests, I’ll be blogging about nothing again and slowly switching this to my domain. Damn, aren’t you lucky.
I’m sick of them… the flowery smells, at least. Whatever horrid perfume oil is haunting me around my living room table… well, is evil. I’ve used Pine-Sol, Goo Gone, Pledge… in nooks and crannies, on the table legs and feet, under the top of the damn table…. still it wafts.
I’ve had this big box of perfume oils for a long time. I’d wondered why I’d not gotten them out and mixed some things up. Why had I not played in them for a while? Now I remember. As yummy as some of them are there is that elusive one that reminds me of rotting vegetation and jasmine mixed together with fresh mulch. It exists solely to make my stomach turn and my head pound.
In other news, my new toilet seat arrived today. I know, right? Who the Hell orders toilet seats online? I do. Having crap delivered to my door so I don’t have to deal with people is one of my biggest joys in life. Thank you Amazon, for filling all my pooping needs.
I think I will take bleach to the old one and then paint it and make it into a picture frame. Sure, I could make a NEW one into a picture frame but that’s not twisted enough for me. For some peoples portraits, I really do need a hole that has been shit through countless times. It’s the entire symbolic gesture of the thing. Now I just need the perfect subject for my framework. I’m already working on that.
So, Andy, my girl Desi and I went to see Unknown Hinson the other night. I had fun although I was pretty toasted so all the photos I took look like someone with Parkinsons was shooting them. That’s okay… Desi had a steady hand even though she did throw up purple glitter the next day…. but I digress.
As at most shows without a man obviously stapled to my ass, some horndog was trying to kiss me and making odd slurred suggestions in my ear while I desperately looked over at Andy in an attempt to shoot a glance that said “pretend we are banging, dude”.
I was trying to be pleasant to the drunken horndog because that is just how I am. I mean, God forbid he had a temper and I pissed him off and he became rage-dude or something. That would have killed my night.
By the time Hinson took his intermission (I know, right? he is like 700 years old apparently), I’d really had quite enough of being dry humped and Desi was quite intox-i-ca-to.
I smiled to the guy and he asked if I’d see him again so I made an imaginary date with him for the next night at 3rd and Lindsley, a bar I never ever ever go to. I had no intention of showing up, I just was done with being humped and did not want to ask around for a pen to write down a fake phone number for him.
Desi turned around and was all “Kit, for fucks’ sake, he looks like someones crazy peeping tom gardener or something”.
The we left…. though I was kind of bummed because if he WAS someones gardener it would have been the first guy I’ve been out with in AGES that had a job of any kind.
Maybe I should have gone to 3rd and Lindsley after all.
I suppose this will be my new play space. I understand a lot of wickedly bad changes are in store for Facebook and I’m not quite grooving on Google+. We don’t even have to mention Myspace because I don’t even understand how to use that fucked up mess anymore. Oh no, I mentioned it. Good thing I did not say it three times while looking in a mirror.
I thought about just getting my own domain but what if I just get bored and end up with more monthly charges on my debit card? That tends to happen pretty frequently. Thus, here I am… a denizen of tumblr by recommendation of a friend.
If you are here, then you followed me from Facebook (which I will keep up with as well until the aforementioned horrid changes are in place). Perhaps you found me by accident. if so, I’m sure you’re not following me yet. If you are, your life is really as droll as mine can tend to be.
If you somehow followed me from some other random site I am on…. go away! I didn’t tell you about this! You are totally freaking me out. 0_0
If I fail in posting here and you want to spank me over it… just nudge me a bit. Comment or e-mail. Smack my stupid ass off Facebook. Whatever it takes. Some habits die hard. For some… I am one of those habits.
So… hello there tumblr. How ya doin’?