top secret diary
melissa & poems & archive & danger list & email
Saturday, February 22, 2003
I got mail from Franny today, things all stuffed into a big metallic-silver envelope. It was like getting mail from a robot! An English one.
Fuck, you know robots would send some kick ass mail.
P.S. You know who would make a fantastic pirate? Chris Cornell! Envision it. Do it! You will gasp with the truth of what I say!
P.P.S. The new Audioslave song is so pretty, so pretty.
Thursday, February 20, 2003
I've got a Barbie doll crotch! No, I don't. Hedwig does.
I don't care about Barbie's impressively long legs, or the gigantic space between her thighs, the unrealistically small waist or the perfectly symmetrical boobs -- my biggest problem is that no one has that much fucking hair. It just makes me look bad. I feel ashamed.
I dreamt I had a baby but I lost it and then found it upside down in a tub of chemically-loaded water. But it's okay, because the baby turned out to be a plastic doll.
Watch fifth-season La Femme Nikita in the morning: start your day off by crying like a bastard!
Oh, by the way: HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
Hotel rooms are purchased, Mitch Hedberg tickets are boughten, and all that's left are reservations for dinner theatre. Because when my whore visits me, I GO ALL OUT, with the motherfucking comedy and pirates!
This is more exciting than drinking during American Idol.
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
Being sick blows. Somehow I managed all my classes today on four hours of sleep and a body in revolt. It was the yogurt-covered pretzels, I think. They saw me through.
(Also when I have to walk to or from class while ill, I imagine there is a warm man waiting for me at my destination. The disappointment when I come to my senses is worth the comforting fantasy in the meanwhile.)
My eyeglasses are dirty, my legs unshaved, and I stayed up way too late last night reading internet porn.
Your pity/or disgust is unwelcome.
Monday, February 17, 2003
I wrote my paper on violence against women, and I have decided that violence against women is BAD. Also all other violence, except when I'm fucking shit up/or it's hilarious.
Sunday, February 16, 2003
Jack Sawyer dreams last night. Also, unfortunately, Jennifer Love Hewitt.
Nicole thinks if I sit in my chair in front of the window, a sniper will shoot me in the head.
I am ill again! It is from lack of animal love.