overhelming & impossible

I've been having mad vivid dreams again. Two nights ago, I dreamed that Obama won the election. With over 90% of the votes. Then he rode a victory lap around the country on Wind Whistler, this bitchass-kind-of-pegasus My Little Pony who says things like, "It's easy to be courageous when helping others!" If anyone, pony or otherwise, said that kind of shit to me, I'd vomit bile that tastes a great deal like chicken noode soup, mixed with a kilo of sugarcane and resin and breakfast burritos gone bad.

(Mad thanks to TiGGer.)

In my dream last night, I got stabbed three times in the stomach, in a strikingly similar fashion to how some guy got stabbed on The Sopranos, which is a good show if you like watching: A) consistent violence, B) incomprehensible babble aka strong Jersey accents, and C) heroin addicted real estate agents who get thrown off mob boss dicks when they're fully naked (super mortifying), to keep their mob boss Pimp Hands strong. I think I have to start watching it from the beginning to fully appreciate it. Same with Arrested Development.

Some things:

- Despite contrary reports you may have heard, hating Gwen Stefani is NOT homophobic, because she sucks so much! Rolling around in a pile of candy is not artistic. Working so hard every night and day and now we get the payback! Also, those YouTube comments are worth reading, i.e. "da 3 dots means CRAZY LIFE.. ICE CUBE ACTUAL GOT THE ACTUAL REAL TATOO SHE GOT A FAKE LIL PUT ON SPARKLY 3 DOTS.. FUCK DAT IF U REAL GET IT TATTED AND U A GANGSTA U GOTTA HAVE IT."

- Do you think it would be an improvement to the NFL if they had a legitimate Giant on each team whose goal is to battle the opposing Giant to the death, while the rest of the team plays the normal game (field goals, touchdowns, second downs et al) around them? I think it would truly mark the beginning of The Golden Age of Football. (Sorry about capitalizing random words, but by "Giants" I wanted to imply that these are twelve foot creatures who lumi (love u mean it for the ignorant) destruction and blood milkshakes - please don't confuse this definition of deviance with the New York Giants -, and "The Golden Age of Football" just looks like it could be a term paper title.)

- Guilty pleasures of late: soda flavored Lip Smackers, cheap Urban Outfitters sunglasses, library books.

I had a goldfish named Sunny who lived for over seven years. He was the Young Jeezy/Soul Survivor of the fishbowl species. This guy needs to be let free.

"Guess what my resting pulse rate is?"
"Two."

closer to heaven above and closer to you

Some Bad Bitches I Know:


Charlotte the barn spider from Charlotte's Web. E.B. White is maybe the most sensitive and beautiful childrens author in the past century (my heart broke for the very first time promptly after reading The Trumpet of the Swan), and Charlotte is effing bad ass. She's the kind of wonderful person who probably got a 36 on her ACT but doesn't brag about it and doesn't judge you for smoking cigarettes and she probably keeps her blog private. Classy. She is so fucking wise dude:
"Why did you do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you."
"You have been my friend," replied Charlotte. "That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die... By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heavens knows anyone's life can stand a little of that."

(Also the 1973 movie version ranks highest on my zOMG SCENES IN MOVIES THAT CONSISTENTLY MAKE ME CRY, closely followed by Shadow and Peter reuniting in Homeward Bound and when Jenny dies in Forrest Gump."It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.")



Cindy McCain is rich as FUCK! She is a straight descendant of Mr. Monopoly rich. She owns 68% of Hensley & Co, which is one of the largest beer distributors in America. She made sure she got a pre-nup that keeps her assets under her name, and she has a completely separate bank account and files separate income tax forms from her husband. GET EM GURL. She was also addicted to Percocet and Vicodin for three years - this bitch was taking up to twenty painkillers a day and stealing from her charity to get these drugs. She's an amateur pilot like my grandpa was. Basically, even though if her husband wins the election I will spend the week after crying alone in my dark room with a handle of Smirnoff and a pitcher of ice cubes, I think she's not to be messed with. When she was interviewed about her drug problem, Cindy said some important and intelligent things about addiction, an almost always stigmatized topic that affects more people than you might think: "If what I say can help just one person to face the problem, it's worthwhile. They should know it's OK to be scared. It's OK to talk about it...I have done good things, and the best thing I've ever done is go into recovery and stay drug-free." I mean, even if she just said that to play the victim to the sympathetic media, I'm glad she said it.



(If only that headband were from American Apparel.)
Trina. Now you know she's the Queen of Miami and belongs on any list anywhere that is centered on Bad Bitches. I also enjoy how abrasive she is in her songs. "WHAT WE HAD WAS LIKE JAY AND BEYONCE! OR WAS IT ALL A DREAM!"

Back in the day, it was such common practice to describe ordinary things as "orgasmic," which is a Stretch Armstrong, to say the least. Is that hot chocolate actually giving you an orgasm? Really? It's that good?



And this is the room one afternoon I knew I could love you
And from above how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go