Is this really a designer broom?

I saw this at the grocery.  Who cares what your broom looks like?  Here is my dream handbag, meant to carry champagne.  I don't see why I can't use it to carry my champagne to work every day.

Is this really a knock-off Louis Vuitton broom?

I've been working on this gypsy painting.  She has skin now.  I want to call her Esmeralda.  It just sounds exotic and I just sound psychotic.  I also wrote a poem and I can't tell if it's shit on paper or any good.  I'm experimenting with meter; maybe going to try to give it a rhythm (method, nation?).

So I made this apple cake.  I did not try it, but people @ work liked it.  I did taste the batter while I was making it and it was delicious!  I used one teaspoon of cinnamon and sprinkled some pumpkin pie spice in it instead of two teaspoons of cinnamon.

She ugly, but she taste good (allegedly).  The batter was amaze-balls. 

  Well, I was at the gym today and was working out, looking around.  I saw an odd food show on the TV where they were frying what looked like blood and putting what looked like poops or turds into it.  This was being cooked after they had sliced some sort of hog's head looking thing.  I then caught some poor bastard running on the treadmill and got mesmerized by the movement of his neck fold fat while he was jogging.  I feel like it means he's really trying and I'm proud of him.  I look like an asshole Muppet on the treadmill, so I am not judging, just observing.

But look who is lightly jogging a bit and getting better?

Am I gonna turn into the Judy Garland of dogs from my pills?  Come on, get happy.  

I have elaborate plans for my after death: I want a New Orleans funeral like in "Live and Let Die."  I also want the country of Mexico to make pinatas on the day of my death/funeral.  They can make them with my hair curly or straight (the pinata will be like a bust of my head).  Now I also know what I want on my tombstone (although I want to be burned and spread in completely inconvenient places by all sorts of people).  I also want part of me shot into space, preferably my eyeballs. 

Bitch, I want a tombstone, too.  I also want a fountain and pets that just live where my tombstone is. 

Please, grow for me.

It feels like spring around Massachusetts.  Although the crisp bite of winter lingers, it's touched with more sunshine and the overall spring fever feeling.  It's a great feeling, this renewal of the seasons that happens each year.  Many people who have lived in New England have pondered the idea of being able to live elsewhere, where the seasonal weather isn't as cyclical.  Although I'm not a fan of the crowded ambiance of this area and the high cost of living, I would also miss the seasons (click here to read my poem). 

It felt like spring when I took this.

Speaking of the transition in seasons, at work, they put out the poinsettias from the holidays and we were able to take them home.I took the last one home and it was skimp and dry.  It didn't look healthy. 

I do think he's so cute.  I didn't make this; I ganked it off of the internet. 

Now, it's turned into Audrey II and I need to get it a bigger pot.  I'm hoping I don't end up having to pinprick my fingers to keep it alive like Seymour did.   

Feed me!

In other news, my dog (whose voice sounds like Lumbergh when he's trying to convince someone to do something) is getting better and is able to fight to get his resting, comfy bed back from the haunches of a tiny, pushy kitty.

Yeah, I'm gonna need you to go ahead and get up and move somewhere else.  I'm also gonna need you to come in on Saturday.

Sometimes, I guess one needs to have a My 600lb Life marathon and do laundry.  I can explain one away by the fact that I cannot live in filth and society dictates that I need to be clothed and cleaned and what not.  The other I cannot explain. 

Also, soda (or tonic as we used to colloquially call it) is horrible and I (and most people I know) do not drink it regularly.  However, a word of caution when drinking water: fish fuck in it.  I'm just saying.  

Oh Dory, honey, he ain't coming back and he ain't gonna call,.  Be strong.,girl. There's other fish in the sea.

 

Why does Easter candy taste so much better than non-denominational candy?

I was reading today about antitheism.  I've made the transition from agnostic to atheist.  Maybe there's another step for me.  I'm definitely a strong supporter of the separation of church and state (which is paramount in these times), but I don't thing I'd be anti-god, like crusading against god.  People can do what they want; let's just not shove it down each other's throats.  There's so much to read on the subject.  I suppose people who have religion feel just as strongly about their beliefs as I do about my non-belief.

I'll never be able to say 'the cradle to the grave' again.  Charles Bukowski is kinda my hero.

The douche of champions.

I'm reading Tales of Ordinary Madness by Charles Bukowski and I just love him.  Very much.  "there was a girl in a blue dress whose ass looked like the bottom of heaven." 

His titles set such a tone.  The title of one of his books made me cry when I first read it: "It Catches My Heart in its Hands." That is beauty in words.

I'm not a fan of change, especially when I have little or nil control over the changes.  Sometimes trying to be positive and flexible can be exhausting and just tedious, especially when it's not your natural reaction.  Life is mostly good.

Stop the changes, Blanche, you slut!

 You get what you get and you don't get upset.

But, sometimes, despite practicing gratitude (fuck off) and looking on the bright side (go suck a dick), it can feel like you're just a little chicken looking up at the sky and the universe is just douching all over you.  And you're too stupid of a little chicken to know to keep your head down for a while.  Holy shit!  The Easter ads with the Cadbury bunny who sounds like a chicken are on and I didn't get to hear him because I was at the gym!  
 

Greg Louganis is by far one of the hottest men ever to dive the planet. 

My adorable dog had an injury to his back knee that we think is pizza-related.  He's a high-energy, rambunctious, balls-to-the-wall guy, but he needs to rest for a few weeks and then we can see if he needs surgery,.  If you're reading this and you pray, and I haven't yet offended the shit out of you, please put in a good word for my dog.  He's 12 and he's so spry.  He's the best friend I've ever had and I love him more than I've ever loved any human being.  Sorry, bitches, this be true.

He's on a $200 human, king-sized featherbed with his favorite Dingo bone and a toy rabbit it took me 1/2 an hour to pick out.  The rat looked way too real.  I believe the photo of the rat is in a past blog.  Why don't you be my #1 fan like Annie Wilkes and look for that rat photo and then nurse me back to health but then hobble me when I realize you're insane?

 I wish the best for everyone.  How hard it is to wish the best for yourself.  Maybe the trick in life is to just curl up sometimes and find some place warm.

 Wait, I don't wish the best for racists and assholes in general.  While I have to say, I don't have it in me to wish ill to any living thing,

This was when he was high on pain medication post x-rays.  He fell asleep with his head in my hand.  It Catches My Heart in its Hands. 

I'll take the good wishes from racists, &C. (this is how Sigmund Freud writes etc. in his book I'm reading and he's really judgmental and snippy looking on the cover, no one you'd want to take on therapy with for sure) and give it double to better people.  But not nuns.  But pray for my dog.  What if there's a nun named Sister Christian?  Terrible song.  No offense, Night Ranger, but it sounds like the ass of a goat.    

Please send positive vibes, prayers, &C. etc. and what have you to my sweet Pup.  He's not really sweet; he doesn't like other people or dogs.  But he really likes me.  A lot.

Come on, hope my dog gets well soon, lest Freud judge the shit out of you.

If you pray for her dog, your penis will get bigger and your mother will worship you.