Just relax, Clarice.

I had a totally relaxing day off today.  Of course, I still wake up at the crack of dawn because I'm me.  I made myself some delicious banana bread muffins.  It's been pretty chill.  Why not do one of the facial masks I got at Walgreens?  Um, what the actual fuck is relaxing about this?  I'm pretty sure that it's going to cause a serial killer to hone in on me as a victim, or it's going to turn me into a serial killer.  Let's face it; I've got the John Wayne Gacy painting vibe going on.

This is really creepy.  I'm a big Stephen King fan and a horror movie fan as well.  But this is fucking weird looking. 

I've been working on the gypsy painting.  It's coming along, I guess, but I am having trouble with her hair.  I know what I want the hair to be, but can I pull it off?

My dog is healing well from his knee injury.  However, he will now only eat his food with Alpo gravy on it.  Also, he has his own recliner and he's able to jump up and sit on it again.  My dog has his own recliner.  I don't even have a recliner.  Or gravy.  Lucky dog.  

And I have a crush on a man at the gym who looks exactly like this emoji:👴🏻  

He was on the machine next to me the other day and I was pretty excited.  Then I forgot where I was and that he was there and I burped.  It wasn't terribly loud, but it might have been terribly classy. 

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. 

Eggs-cuse me!

Good Evening?  I've been trying to tweak my diet and get more protein, get strong.  I boiled some eggs last night.  Now, for those reader (again, readers plural would seem so arrogant) who have never made hard boiled eggs, they stink.

They have a distinctive, sulfuresque aroma.  Let's just say it's not going to ever make it to a candle or air freshener.  I have this bad habit of making food in my gym clothes as soon as I get home.  If I make something with garlic or onions (um, yum though), the next day, at the gym, I'll smell.  The food smell sticks to my clothes and I do not wash the gym clothes every time I work out.


First thing at the gym tonight,, I sat down to lift some weights (20lbs.).




I immediately smelled something like eggs, a sulfur stench.  I smelled my t-shirt and it smelled like laundry and whatever lotion or perfume was lingering.  No egg smell.  Not to be discriminatory, but there were some older people on the treadmills in front of me.  I suspected them.  Whoever smelt it dealt it, the old, classy, American proverb states, but I did not dealt it. Not this time.

This is an actual text from my phone yesterday.  Also, in case you don't know what a tuna war is, it's when one person likes light tuna and the other person likes chunk white tuna. 

At any rate, I went to another machine and I reeked of perfume suddenly.  I had forgotten what Obsession smelled like, so I sprayed some when I was leaving for work this morning and it must've gotten all over my gym bag.  This is a blog of smells, I guess.

If you think I don't need more perfume, you're wrong.

Also, look who's almost done!  Well, she's been done, but the companion one.

From road rage to old age, I am the total package.

People are kind and I'm grateful for my friends and select family.  🙄 While I try to practice gratitude and remain calm in life, sometimes I experience a bad mood.  This week I was in a grouchy mood.  I'll share some tales, and if my memory is foggy, we'll start with why that is. 

Why are her pets so pissy looking?

I've noticed a dramatic and drastic increase in my gray hair.  I'm not a vain person and I do not think looks are everything.  But it would be nice not to look like Granny.  You know what I just remembered?  I wore a fucking cameo to my junior prom with my high-necked, knee-length, long-sleeved black velvet prom dress.  "You've always been the granny."  So, it seems I might have been born an older woman?    

I can't remember if this was this morning or yesterday.  There's a turn signal to go left across railroad tracks on my way to work.  🚂🚃 If I don't make it before a certain train, I'm running later to work than I prefer.  So, the light has an extra sign on it that lights up with a "no left - train" symbol.  🚦 Well, the train went by and the light was green for around ten seconds.  The person in front of me just sat there until the light turned yellow (yellow means go!) and then we had another fucking train come.  Now, to keep this in perspective, it was only the span of about five minutes.  But the stress of this dope not going when we had this brief opportunity really ticked me off.  I heard stress isn't great for your body.  

The stress from this road rage made the sauces of my feet boil a little.  I know that I need to calm my french fry brain when I'm driving.  It's so hard to keep cool.  And I can't get into altercations and tell other drivers: "Hey, blow it out your drinking straw ass!"

I am finished with my lady painting and almost with the companion one.  Finally!  While I was so excited and I loved doing this, it was kind of dragging at the end.  

Now, I'm starting on my boom box, back to the 80s.  I think the book I'm writing is going to take place in the late 70s, early 80s.  

There will be AIDS and Fleetwood Mac galore.

While I think she's absolutely beautiful and talented, and I am not trying to be mean, this is a terrible photo.  She looks like a hillbilly Cher.  I obviously look just ravishing and didn't have to put cover up on a mustache breakout scar at the gym or anything. 

Ba-chomp,  bachooey chomp.

 But I do not look like a Hillbilly Cher.  "I Got You Babe" still makes me tear up a little.  Oh, but Sarah does look like the dark lady from the song "Dark Lady" who I think kills someone at the end.  

 While I try to keep negativity at bay, there is a yin (I thought this was ying; nobody is perfect and I screw things up like this all the time) and yang to life, this balance.  It stands to reason that we need to have a release at times.

 I guess it's just making sure we don't turn into nightmares.  

Well, another weekend begins and I'll recharge so I won't be as nasty next week.  Of course, I'm a woman so hormones naturally play a part in this.  This will be us next week.  I also made a new year's resolution to be a better friend, so I shouldn't be a complaining, anxious, enraged piece of shit.  I also made a resolution to write more and then they put the fucking Golden Girls on Hulu.  It's a great show.  I wish I didn't like TV.  I wish I could get on board with listening to NPR, too.  I am what I am, Popeye style.  I do love spinach, too. 🌿 I lift 20-30 lbs. at the gym, son.  I wrote a poem which oddly mentions spinach lasagna.  It needs work.   Jesus, don't we all.