[WITTY]
Its weird, anytime I sit at the computer in my room I wanna scan somethingIm half tempted to scan me nutts. Halftempted.
Jeds giving talk of getting me high on mushrooms and setting me loose on McNaughton Park.
When I tried to let him know that Ive never taken shrooms and being lost, disoriented in a park, might give me Bad Vibes and Im apt to have a panic attack.
That if I were ever to do shrooms I would like to do it in a veryVERYcontrolled environment. The first time, atleast.
Or acid, for that matter.
But, yeah, other than that little snag, it sounds like a plan.
Plans:
I have a plan to get Sammy high some random weekend. Because Im a good friend, I let him know about this. And he refused.
And Im no good at peer pressure.
The whole reason I wanna do this is because weve only been high together once. The first timeonly time. I think Sammy got high a couple times since, most likely when I was in Canton or in Creve Coeur.
But now that he works 3rds and we really dont hang out that much, I think that if we maybe get high some weekend it might rekindle our relationship.
Thats that gayest straight commentEVER!
Seriously, though, I think it would be a thing to dosmoke some cheeb, watch a film, play some games, laugh, smile, etc.
But thats just me. Hes against it, but I have a feeling that if I keep hounding him that hell come around.
My feets is cold
Pe-eer pressure. Pee-eeer pressure. But he doesnt like being hungry. The munchies scared him away. I told him about the gum thing, but he doesnt buy it. Ill keep on pressing, see what happens, but you know how it is.
The MUNCHIESSammys anti-drug.
[/WITTY]did that work?
In Seattle, I've been watching Brandy nap in our undersea grotto for more than one hundred and sixty years. Me, I'm sitting here with a glossy pile of brochures from surgeons showing sexual reassignment surgeries. Transitional trans gender operations. Sex changes. The color pictures show pretty much the same shot of different-quality vaginas. Camera shots focused straight into the dark vaginal introitus. Fingers with red nail polish cupped against each thigh to spread the labia. The urethral meatus soft and pink. The pubic hair clipped down to stubble on some. The vaginal depth given as six inches, eight inches, two inches. Unresected corpus spongiosum mounding around the urethral opening on some.
The clitoris hooded, the frenulum of the clitoris, the tiny folds of skin under the hood that join the clitoris to the labia.
Bad, cheap vaginas with hair-growing scrotal skin used inside, still growing hair, choked with hair.
Picture perfect, state-of-the-art vaginas lengthened using sections of colon, self-cleaning and lubricated with its own mucosa. Sensate clitorises made by cropping and rerouting bits of the glans penis. The Cadillac of vaginoplasty. Some of these Cadillacs turn out so successful the flood of colon mucosa means wearing a maxi-pad everyday.
Some are old-style vaginas where you had to stretch and dilate them every day with a plastic mold. All these brochures are souvenirs of Brandy's near future.
After we saw Mr. Parker sitting on Ellis, I helped the drug-induced dead body Brandy might as well be back upstairs and took her out of her clothes again. She coughed them back up when I tried to slip any more Darvons down her throat, so I settled her back on the bathroom floor, and when I folded her suit jacket over my arm there was something cardboard tucked in the inside pocket. The Miss Rona book. Tucked in the book is a souvenir of my own future.
Kicked back on the big ceramic snail shell, I read:
I love Seth Thomas so much I have to destroy him I overcompensate by worshiping the queen supreme. Seth will never love me. No one will ever love me ever again.
How embarrassing.
Give me needy emotional whining bullshit.
Flash.
Give me self-absorbed egocentric twaddle.
Christ.
Fuck me. I'm so tired of being me. Me beautiful. Me ugly. Blonde. Brunette. A million fucking fashion makeovers that only leave me trapped being me. Who I was before the accident is just a story now. Everything before now, before now, before now, is just a, story I carry around. I guess that would apply to anybody jin the world. What I need is a new story about who I am.
What I need to do is fuck up so bad I can't save myself.
Oh, how is it not gangsta to go down onna chick? As in:
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
Feedin the poor and hepin out wit they bills
Although I was born in jamaica
Now Im in the us makin deals
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
I mean one that you dont really know
Ridin around town in a drop-top benz
Hittin switches in my black six-fo
Now gangsta-ass niggas come in all shapes and colors
Some got killed in the past
But this gangtsa here is a smart one
Started living for the lord and Ill last
Now all I gotta say to you
Wannabe, gonnabe, pussy-eatin, cocksuckin prankstas
When the shit jumps off what the fuck you gonna do
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
wtf?
Its weird, anytime I sit at the computer in my room I wanna scan somethingIm half tempted to scan me nutts. Halftempted.
Jeds giving talk of getting me high on mushrooms and setting me loose on McNaughton Park.
When I tried to let him know that Ive never taken shrooms and being lost, disoriented in a park, might give me Bad Vibes and Im apt to have a panic attack.
That if I were ever to do shrooms I would like to do it in a veryVERYcontrolled environment. The first time, atleast.
Or acid, for that matter.
But, yeah, other than that little snag, it sounds like a plan.
Plans:
I have a plan to get Sammy high some random weekend. Because Im a good friend, I let him know about this. And he refused.
And Im no good at peer pressure.
The whole reason I wanna do this is because weve only been high together once. The first timeonly time. I think Sammy got high a couple times since, most likely when I was in Canton or in Creve Coeur.
But now that he works 3rds and we really dont hang out that much, I think that if we maybe get high some weekend it might rekindle our relationship.
Thats that gayest straight commentEVER!
Seriously, though, I think it would be a thing to dosmoke some cheeb, watch a film, play some games, laugh, smile, etc.
But thats just me. Hes against it, but I have a feeling that if I keep hounding him that hell come around.
My feets is cold
Pe-eer pressure. Pee-eeer pressure. But he doesnt like being hungry. The munchies scared him away. I told him about the gum thing, but he doesnt buy it. Ill keep on pressing, see what happens, but you know how it is.
The MUNCHIESSammys anti-drug.
[/WITTY]did that work?
In Seattle, I've been watching Brandy nap in our undersea grotto for more than one hundred and sixty years. Me, I'm sitting here with a glossy pile of brochures from surgeons showing sexual reassignment surgeries. Transitional trans gender operations. Sex changes. The color pictures show pretty much the same shot of different-quality vaginas. Camera shots focused straight into the dark vaginal introitus. Fingers with red nail polish cupped against each thigh to spread the labia. The urethral meatus soft and pink. The pubic hair clipped down to stubble on some. The vaginal depth given as six inches, eight inches, two inches. Unresected corpus spongiosum mounding around the urethral opening on some.
The clitoris hooded, the frenulum of the clitoris, the tiny folds of skin under the hood that join the clitoris to the labia.
Bad, cheap vaginas with hair-growing scrotal skin used inside, still growing hair, choked with hair.
Picture perfect, state-of-the-art vaginas lengthened using sections of colon, self-cleaning and lubricated with its own mucosa. Sensate clitorises made by cropping and rerouting bits of the glans penis. The Cadillac of vaginoplasty. Some of these Cadillacs turn out so successful the flood of colon mucosa means wearing a maxi-pad everyday.
Some are old-style vaginas where you had to stretch and dilate them every day with a plastic mold. All these brochures are souvenirs of Brandy's near future.
After we saw Mr. Parker sitting on Ellis, I helped the drug-induced dead body Brandy might as well be back upstairs and took her out of her clothes again. She coughed them back up when I tried to slip any more Darvons down her throat, so I settled her back on the bathroom floor, and when I folded her suit jacket over my arm there was something cardboard tucked in the inside pocket. The Miss Rona book. Tucked in the book is a souvenir of my own future.
Kicked back on the big ceramic snail shell, I read:
I love Seth Thomas so much I have to destroy him I overcompensate by worshiping the queen supreme. Seth will never love me. No one will ever love me ever again.
How embarrassing.
Give me needy emotional whining bullshit.
Flash.
Give me self-absorbed egocentric twaddle.
Christ.
Fuck me. I'm so tired of being me. Me beautiful. Me ugly. Blonde. Brunette. A million fucking fashion makeovers that only leave me trapped being me. Who I was before the accident is just a story now. Everything before now, before now, before now, is just a, story I carry around. I guess that would apply to anybody jin the world. What I need is a new story about who I am.
What I need to do is fuck up so bad I can't save myself.
Oh, how is it not gangsta to go down onna chick? As in:
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
Feedin the poor and hepin out wit they bills
Although I was born in jamaica
Now Im in the us makin deals
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
I mean one that you dont really know
Ridin around town in a drop-top benz
Hittin switches in my black six-fo
Now gangsta-ass niggas come in all shapes and colors
Some got killed in the past
But this gangtsa here is a smart one
Started living for the lord and Ill last
Now all I gotta say to you
Wannabe, gonnabe, pussy-eatin, cocksuckin prankstas
When the shit jumps off what the fuck you gonna do
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
wtf?
and dude, " I think that if we maybe get high some weekend it might rekindle our relationship. " that is the gayest thing ever, but its also bueatiful. awww
we did have the talk, and we were very civil, it was a verry no mess type of thing, so now i have to let the healing begin, ie, watching bad romance movies, and drinking....alot.