c'est ne pas! bitch

welcome to my complaint desk. if you want to file a complaint- fekk off. this is about me, stoopid.

complaint numero uno: i still hate that fekkin cheeseloaf. i'm gonna pop her tires. bitch.

duo: my fridge dies AGAIN this w/e. lost food, and another month off my life tally. contractor- aka dickweed - fixed it by "yiggling the cord". i think he fukked up the voltage last time and lied and now pretends it's "yiggled and ok". please email me if you want my full fridge story. maybe you can help me decipher between truth and fiction w/ dickweed.

tres: my professor for this term seemed kindly enough but i soon realized that she plans to pick her teeth w/ me. not unlike cest nes pas cheeseloaf. get this: in the syllabus it states that part of our grade is based on participation and on a rubric she'll use to "judge" me there stands a column for "irrelevant/distracting comments". has she met me? that's what i do. that is, actually, what i did for the three hours prior to her reading that in class tonight. ahhhhh... must everyone have a stab @ fun loving me? whores! whores all of em, i tell you!!!!!

if you think i may have due cause to have filed a complaint against you, you may want to check in w/ me before i crush you like borak on the ali g show threatens to crush woman who cheat. "i crush".

booyashaka.

btw ... i have a lawyer named "shep". hopefully he's more intimidating than me in pigtails.

he crush?

hi, honey, i'm home

have you missed me?
ok, so i didn't really go anywhere. but my head's been firmly lodged up my ass w/ work, work, and more work.

last night i dislodged my head by drinking enough whiskey to cure bulgarian throat disease in a pack of donkeys. ouch. when you leave yourself messages at work from the bar about when to next go drinking for a sing-along w/ ronan quinn...and you can barely understand your own message b/c of all the slurring- it's time to put the schnifter down. well, @ least one of the schnifters.

well, i outlived my coworker- who left work "ill" this morning. i feel her pain, man. i'd have my head in the toilet if i could.

in an attempt to drink less, and of course- reduce debt, i called the brigham n women's fertility center today. i can see it now: couple looking for high-stress, ocd, whiskey-pickled eggs. ewww. remember when dido would eat all the eggs (different eggs, people) @ the B-side? girl loved them eggs. btw... rumor has it hairball's comin' home. i love they, shorty!!!

a side of hives w/ your order?

just kiddin' ... my kooties are gone. yeah, baby. grr...

so, today- dear fukkers- i come to you w/ three topics for ponderance.

the dancing gene: last night was the birthday celebration of one of our smooth-soled lads-who caresses the dance floor like he's floating by on a cloud. so suave. we were also graced w/ the dancing queen herself- who vogues and jives her way through the sweet soul of the chicken slacks. everyone was dancing. even the oversized nerd who made me want to cringe just watching him (he wasn't part of me possy, mate). so, why lord, why, have i lost my dancing gene? i have no rhythm- but that doesn't stop me from having sex. so why would it stop me from dancing? i'm not exactly shy or self-conscious. i used to dance all thr frikkin time. i'll have to ease in w/ some tango lessons.

the cheeseloaf: my professor from last semester, while nice enough in a dumb-lady way, is a bit of a cunt. she gave me shite advise all term about crap she knows nothing about. what's worse is that the cheeseloaf-some run of the mill 50 something, not fat but not fit, shiny faced -from oil (hence the name), american white chick ---married a frenchman---and thinks she fukkin french. not only does she pronounce shit w/ a french accent (you're probably from minnesota you geebag!!!) but she writes comments on my paper in french!!!! do i write my papers in mandarin? no, bitch! b/c it ain't a fukkin language class and i live in the fukkin states!!!! so she crossed out "regarding" in my paper and beside it wrote something like "c'est nes pas". who the fukk knows what she wrote cuz I DON'T SPEAK FRENCH!!!!!

the condo catasphrophe: yall may recall the buzzer bullshit. well, the condom association now claims i owe em eight fukking hundred dollars for repairs. i'm gonna saw their balls off w/ my bread knife. i hate them. i hate the condom association. i hate it all. feel free to request the letter of protest that will be composed shortly regarding this wanker bs.

coming next: how the hell can we make decisions about life when we have no clue what the fukk we're doing? (don't even pretend you have a clue.)

wacky pussy on the prowl

owww quit it ...oww quit it.

this is how i awoke yesterday morning, as Tabby tried to eat me for breakfast. it was only 5:30 a.m. so i held my ground. well, i hid from her under the covers. she promptly moved on to eating paper- bags, envelopes, articles, whatever she could sink her sharp lil teeth into. (like when she ate my paycheck- so cute!)

apparently she wasn't satiated w/ the paper products ... b/c i then heard a seriously impressive crash bang boom!! i hesitated to get up and see what had occurred, but curiousity won. i turned the light on and there was my dresser-bare on top. the plants, about a dozen or so, and a lamp, which were previously housed on the dresser... were now entangled and mangled on the floor below.

Tabby, thank out lucky snaggleteeth, was fine.

although she was a bit pissy that i first salvaged plants, disposed of broken pots, swept dirt, tossed the lamp now covered in water and soil (i didn't like it much anyway) and laundered before feeding my lil hungry hungry hippo breakfast.

damn, i love that crazy pussy!!!!

bruins, beautiful bruins

i am one lucky lassie!

volunteering for the bruins wives' carnival this past w/e landed me in the arms of many handsome athletes. grrr baby.

i learned that nick boynton is nyet married- just a baby daddy. and to a vegas dancer of sorts.

i saw sheer beauty that one can not capture in hockey advertising apparently. andy, hal- all v hott in person. tom fitz touched me ! "(well, we were taking a pic).

i love these men, more now than ever. i'm a fan for life. me-owzers!!

hope the dry cleaners can get my drool stains outta me knickers. uhhhh, hotties!


i'll work for charity anytime baby

chocolate covered bruins

the good, the bad and the sad...

the good: i'm volunteering @ the bruins' wives carnival and get to spend all of sunday w/ those nicey men. sweet!!!

the bad: my fekkin plumber is totally fukkin me over and i am in desperate need of the cashola that he won't return to me. i'm gonna have an aneurysm over this shit.

the sad: one of the nicest guys i have ever dated sent me chocolate covered strawberries. so sad that i nyet feel nicey in the pants for him. it just makes me feel worse about being a bad person.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oodie go gym now cuz me head's gonna 'splode w/ hatred for the plumbers and other dingleberries who have raped me of my meager finances. whores!!!!!

bringin' in the new year w/ a bang!

LITERALLY... me wee head got knocked on its arse when a lady friend of mine tried to take me down. all in jest mind you. well, my nicey skull nyet found it so jestful. to boot, i also ripped my party dress and acquired a smashing series of bumps.

now i don't mean "the bumps" which my old dublin roomie called the event on your birthday where all the schoolchildren would throw you up in the air and let you crash to the ground as many times as you are old. well, the head injuries do explain some of the bizarre mickey behaviour. haha. like grown men wearing track suits in public. good thing i can get away w/ that. i love me a good track suit.

so, i'm getting the cold cock from my (new) plumber who owes me mad loot and now his tele's shut off. god damn. other than that, i'm gonna cruise right through these unsavory patches. chillin. thoughts of religion seemed quite calming and soothing just days ago, but nyet worry me wee comrades- this sinner is far from gone. if not jesus- who will cleanse my soul?