rifle sporting arcwelding flour in the brick layer cake up on the giant kontrol panel

Last night's punk rock show will not be forgotten.

it had all the ingredients:

-Excellent bands that haven't graced a stage in way too long
-Local celebritys and heros
-beer
-smoke
-punks united!
all took place at the incomperable First Avenue. My church.

i will have an asprin, and lay down for a bit.

When I was 15, I got MAD.

This has always floated around my brain for as long as I can remember, being I am a closet goth girl, thinking natural disasters are cool, coffins are pretty, and industrial is good music to fuck to, etc...But the obsession is back. I can't stop thinking about death. It's all I want to talk about and learn, and read about.
But not just "duh, dead things rule!" I wanna know about ghosts, and spirit guides, and if Sylvia Brown is a huge load of shit. I've resurrected all my Time Life Mystery's Of The Unknown books, and study them like I'm gonna have to write an essay explaining why I think I should live.

there is also the mystery of "my life" 25 yrs. ago. You guys don't get to know about it, cuz it's still super bizarre, and would take too much thought and time to type all those big words.

Actually, ya know what? Give me a couple hours to think more about this, and I'll write something of more substance after I shower and shake all these last night's nightmares.

I'll come back. I swear.

Danzig Kicked My Ass

and my mom is the shit.

Long Distance Birthday Boyfriend

February Twenty Two is today, not tomorrow
Happy Birthday to you

I want to buy you a monkey
I think you smell great
Monkeys make me angry
it's your terrible fate

You got a great big head and that's ok
you turn twenty tomorrow, not today

You moved far away
and i miss your face
I'm sorry i'm lazy
It's my terrible fate

it's not punk it's not cool
it's not even boring
but all the shit i could tell you
is not right for blogging

i hope you like nudey pictures.

C.L.F. 02-23-85

Since I'm totally losing my mind and can't focus on anything that isn't screaming thrash through my speakers, or stabbing at my head, you get another list. You'll live. I may not be so lucky.

- Anti-Virul Kleenex

- Vicks VapoRub (rub. that's a gross word.)

- L-Lysine

- Zoloft

- Propranolol

- pajamas

- Danzig tonight

- Humidifier

- Russell

- Corey Feldman

- Spicy Soup ( soup is a hilarious word.)

- My super special comfort shirt that still has that amazing smell to it after all the abuse i put it through.


You know how i like to remind everyone that rock n roll bitches always get what we want? yeah. not this time.
Sorry for being so vague, but I am simply not the captain today.

Memento Mori

There he goes -- one of God's own
prototypes -- a high powered mutant
of some kind never even considered
for mass production. Too weird to
live and too rare to die.



RIP Gonzo

Hunter S. Thompson 1937-2005

Lazy?

this is what a conversation with your old boyfriend looks like right before you get together and do some serious, emotional beer bonging.

MARIA[6:50 PM]: i can't breath
MARIA [6:50 PM]: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MARIA [6:51 PM]: my side hurts!
Takashi [6:51 PM]: me either. Thinking about papas moldy, smelly balls makes me stop breathing invoulentarily.
MARIA [6:51 PM]: he has to fold them up to get em in his draws
Takashi [6:52 PM]: they weigh four and a half pounds a piece.
MARIA [6:52 PM]: soft like marshmellow
Takashi [6:52 PM]: more wrinkly than a human brain.
MARIA [6:52 PM]: he feeds them a special diet
Takashi [6:52 PM]: he dips them in a special "nutrient broth."
Takashi [6:52 PM]: osmosis.
Takashi [6:53 PM]: HAR!!!!
MARIA [6:53 PM]: NAN! TIME TO BATHE THE BALLS
Takashi [6:53 PM]: she rubs them with a old diaper until they shine.
MARIA [6:53 PM]: i can see my face in this one!
MARIA [6:54 PM]: the sack is too small for the bowling balls
Takashi [6:54 PM]: (rubbing with sleeve) squeek squeek squeek! there you go, papa. nice, fragrant, well fed, proud and healthy GIANT BALLS.
MARIA [6:54 PM]: i'm totally going to paste this conversation into a blog
MARIA [6:55 PM]: like a well fed mule
Takashi [6:55 PM]: "Strap that feedbag onto my balls, nan"
MARIA [6:55 PM]: testisexual
Takashi [6:56 PM]: His penis looks like a button on a fur coat, but his balls can be seen from outer fucking SPACE.
MARIA [6:56 PM]: HAR
Takashi [6:56 PM]: The Grand Canyon, The Great Wall of China, and my grandfathers testicles.
MARIA [6:56 PM]: hemroids the size of vegas from carrying those fuckers
Takashi [6:56 PM]: I bet his inner thighs are really painfully bruised.
MARIA [6:57 PM]: weather system
Takashi [6:57 PM]: He has a Renuzit brand air-freshener stuck to his taint.
MARIA [6:57 PM]: !!!!!!!!!!!!
Takashi [6:57 PM]: HAR!!!!
MARIA [6:57 PM]: hasn't seen the tain in ought 6
MARIA [6:58 PM]: bowling ball shiner
Takashi [6:58 PM]: okay, if I don't stop talking about my grandfathers testicles I'm going to throw up about six Hi-Lifes all over the key board.
MARIA [6:58 PM]: YES!
Takashi [6:59 PM]: Better on the keyboard than on you, right?
MARIA [6:59 PM]: smell the musty glory of his shiny melon balls
Takashi [6:59 PM]: p.s. Sorry for throwing up on you so many times.
MARIA [6:59 PM]: i'm over it
Takashi [6:59 PM]: "Musty Glory?" What a GREAT band name.
Takashi [6:59 PM]: or how about "Papas Balls?"
MARIA [7:00 PM]: ooohhh.....i bet he's apprec
Takashi [7:00 PM]: he would LOVE that item.
Takashi [7:00 PM]: ITEMS!!!!!!
Takashi [7:00 PM]: 2!!!!!!!!!!!!
MARIA [7:00 PM]: this one looks nice
Takashi [7:00 PM]: TWO OF THEM!!!!!!
Takashi [7:01 PM]: thish ish a nice item! It's mine! MY item!
MARIA [7:01 PM]: thish item changed my life
Takashi [7:01 PM]: hey, I'm gonna have a guy. Wanna log off and call my yello ass?
MARIA [7:01 PM]: ok ok ok ok ok
Takashi [7:01 PM]: Go!
MARIA [7:02 PM]: 1 sec
Takashi [7:02 PM]: GO!!!!
MARIA [7:02 PM]: can i have this?
Takashi [7:02 PM]: The ear thermometer?
MARIA [7:02 PM]: no, the thing next to it
Takashi [7:02 PM]: oh, sure.
MARIA [7:02 PM]: thanks.
Takashi [7:02 PM]: That is YOUR item.
Takashi[7:03 PM]: Can I have THIS?
MARIA [7:03 PM]: NO
Takashi [7:03 PM]: Why the hell not?
MARIA [7:03 PM]: i'm getting off
Takashi [7:03 PM]: GO!!!!!
Takashi [7:03 PM]: CALL!!!!!
MARIA [7:03 PM]: bye
Takashi [7:03 PM]: FIGHT!!!!
MARIA [7:03 PM]: HAR!
Takashi [7:03 PM]: WIN!!!!!
Takashi [7:03 PM]: GO TEAM!!!!!
Takashi [7:03 PM]: FUCKERS!!!!!
Takashi [7:03 PM]: BALLS!!!!
Takashi [7:03 PM]: GO!!!!!!!!
Takashi [7:03 PM]: MUSTY!!!!!!
Takashi [7:04 PM]: GO!!!!!!

PERSONALITY CRISIS

I got a new goldfish. His name is Russell.


I've been wittling away at this little zine for about 2 months. It's not even going to be mass Kinko'd. It's actually for a long distance boyfriend to kind of update him on the life and times of ME ME ME, but i tend to work on it after a couple of Pabst, and i lose interest, get bored or distracted and go re-arange my bedroom at 3am, or try and re-write lyrics to Sublime bass lines. Whatever. You get it.
But i'm starting to feel guilty. Neglecting art. I'm going to have to fold my laundry, pull out the glue, paints, and pencils and kick the fuck out of this thing. but then it won't be sincere? I've been feeling extremely uncreative lately, and everything i do feels fake and assholeish.
Prison was a good hammer to smash the artisitc block. But you can't pay me to go back. (ok. i wasn't really in prison, but super damn close enough.)

I've been working with a new photographer lately, who's totally stellar. I think one more round with him, and i might perk up brainstuffs. Sometimes, for me, it takes someone else who's undeniably awesome at what they do for me to get my fat ass in gear. is that cheating? Who cares, i can barely hold a pen anyways.

the Latina Virus gave me a Valentine. My computer hasn't shut down for about a half an hour. this makes me pleased, but i know it won't last long. In fact, i probably jinxed it already.

i'm going to eat an entire cheesecake. try and stop me.


never leave your drink unattended

bring condoms

have enough money for a cab, or reputable phone numbers of sober friends

bring band-aids for uncomfortable shoe blisters

wear lots of pink and red

(this holiday is dumb dumb dumb)

shhhh....

i have to sneak on here very quickly before the "luscious latina" finds me.
she's still here, and she's still ruining everything.

send help.

i'm so angry i could cry. my computer is just about inoperable due to a goddamned porn virus. it's not my fault, so don't even ask.
and DON'T expect any wicked blogs for the next few days until i figure out how to decode and destroy the evil blowjob disease my comp has caught.


on another note...i started writing this and never finished it, so you can have it incomplete.

I HAVE HAD IT.

I am never picking up a razor again. no lady bic, no mach 3 turbo, no skintimate shave gel. never again. screw it.
no more cuts or burning razor rash.

For every Cosmo, YM, Desperate Houswife, and Glamour Girl there is trying to teach me "how to be a woman", there's a Hooker On Stilts, a LuckyGenious, Maximumrockandroll, and Bikini Kill record to tell me that i already AM.

Society's woman and what their "men" want them to be are killing us all.

Monsters WILL eat me.

Last night I got totally shit-my-pants scared. FROM A HORROR MOVIE. A big budget blockbuster movie. Yeah. Can you believe that? Monsters, zombies, ghosts, vampires, mummy's, serial killers and the such are my absolute favorite, and I get freaked out by a flick that billions of 14 yr old girls saw, and probably laughed at.
Maybe it's because I was alone. I don't know. All I do know is that it's the first time I've slept with my light on in like, 15 years.
I woke up soaking wet from lucid, scream in my sleep nightmares. Which was actually kind of cool, I must admit. There's nothing like a dream so wicked, so crazy and unrealistic to get your liquids shaken. Imaginations are the BEST! I was an awesome little kid in that area.
I'm not going to say the name of the movie, cuz I know I'll be laughed right out the ranks of Fangoria, so forget it.

I have to go take a shower. Keep in mind that my bathroom is unattached to my apartment, so in order to get ready for my cleansing, I have to put on my helmet to protect my delicious brains from zombies, stuff garlic in my bathrobe pockets, find my New Orleans rosary, bring my cat with me, sprinkle salt after every step I take, baseball bat under my towel, and run run run screaming like a maniac for all 6 paces to the safety of my bathtub. Lock the door. Catch my breath, eyes open even as I wash my head and face, then find the courage to get back to my pad safely.

Daylight can't save me now.

Old ladies are SO pissed off.

Yesterday I took a business trip to meet with my new photographer. A lovely man who took my old friend, Takashi and me bowling. In Blaine. What a site.
Squat old women with blue hair scooting around in their bowling shoes and matching VFW polo shirts gossiping about the "colored people" in their neighborhood, and how their daughters won't take their grandchildren to Sunday School, and little snippets here and there about them being pissed that their husband didn't take the LeBaron to the car wash before the big trip to Hinckley. It was amazing. Amazingly awful.
Suburban grama's kinda creep me out. But not mine. Just other people's.

After spending 13 hours in my childhood nightmare of a city, I had to get out. I needed my Minneapolis again.

When I returned, these are the new items I found in my purse that I did not have at the beginning of the day.

-2 cigars
-napkins full of insulting haikus
-Chinese medicine balls
-a pilots hat
-dog hair
-rock band buttons
-my class ring that i haven't seen in 7 years. i though it was lost to the ages.

my friends are pretty cool.
even cooler when you dare them to touch a midget in a bar and they do it with such nonchalant finesse, it brings a little tear to your eye.