The Prodigal Daughter

So there are these speed humps everywhere. Yes speed HUMPS. I made up a game this evening called speed hump me! Every time you go over one you have a mini orgasm, but more importantly they’re fucking obnoxious. In any suburban development they exist. I want to go around and write ME! On everymutherfucking last one. yes that is one word. So this evening I ran into some of the most awful girls I have ever met. And I’m not just saying this because I have bias.

But please it was all like “the war is on…or…I’m going to buy a vest from urban that’s made almost entirely of ribbons. These girls are literally like the speed humps of life. You’re just minding your own business when you hear them mention something and they’re fairly loud and so it’s hard not to hear them. These girls are just trying so hard to be something and I’m not the type of person who talks about stuff I don’t know about. I won’t be embarrassed to ask questions to people if I don’t know what they’re talking about. So what were they talking about that made me say something and bring an ungodly silence to the evening and all you could hear were the screaming crickets and cicadas in your head?

I overheard the name jello biafra. You may have heard of him, he was the lead singer of a band called the Dead Kennedys. Now, however, he’s a total ass hole. He’s now just a fat hypocrite who talks out of his ass and tries to fuck his band mates out of royalties. He’s everything he ever hated, a god damn motherfucking hippy. So when this girl is talking about how the war is on and how there is a protest and how jello biafra is going to speak at it I can’t help but tell her what a jerk that guy really is.

Silence befalls the small deck that we are sitting upon. I told her that I had seen him speak which is indeed true. He’s well informed, yes, but also crazy. He just ends up repeating himself and making the point more and more irrelevant. This wasn’t a stab at the girl. It was just to inform her. Later I hear that she was making obscene hand gestures and when jerry arrived (the guy whose house we were at, whom I’ve known for years on end) the three of them tried to get him to go to the dinner with them. In reply jerry stayed, and we all fucking laughed at them when we left because the whole situation was hilarious. It’s like a speed hump. When you see it you groan, but if you just make it into a joke, it’s efing droll. James Drabble: those girls were explosively dull…

let me tell you folks it’s not fun being a third wheel in a threesome like i just was. it was like hey hey i’m over here. sure it’s all fine and dandy that ya’ll like eachother, forbidden fruit and whatnot. but why do i have to be a part of it?

i just love him is all. and i just wish i could have been the married woman who he allegedly had the affair with that got him this mugshot. but only if it was 1938 and not now. because by 1938’s standards i would have been hot stuff wearing eveing gowns and extravagent hats. oh yes.

so somehow i go this allergic reaction to something. i don’t know what it’s from, or why. i just know that’s it’s between my legs, under my arms, and on my stomach. it’s fucking terrible and the itch consumes my being. it doesn’t matter how many oatmeal baths i take. i went to the doctor and they gave me some allegra “to take care of the itch”. dammit. i wanted some rediculous topical cream that soothes yet numbs. i think it’s beginning to go away but seriously it’s all i can do to not rip the skin off from in between my thighs. i’m assuming that it could have come from a number of places. could it be that the coke i consumed during this weekend was cut with some kind of detergent? were marks sheets washed in something that i didn’t agree with? were my jeans just to tight around my sweaty thighs? who’s to know. god is probably smiting me because i really wanted to score coke this weekend. that’s probably it. i’m allergic to saccreligion. it’s turning purple now and i think that’s because it’s healing? i know this is actaully pretty gross yet you’re enthralled.

americans love gross. we like to watch fear factor and all those gross people on reality television who are attractive but not in the way that will get them on real television or film. we love gross food, can i please have that fried chicken on a biscuit? can you deep fry some tofu so i am actually able to eat it? please please please give me a fucking corn dog! let’s go to mcdonalds and be angry when our children are obese. we love it. we are consumed by it. like the reash between my thighs. plastic surgery on television, let me see them drain the fat out of that woman. transfrom them so that i can’t tell who they were to begin with and while you’re doing it can i please watch? also can you televise fake grisley murders for me to watch on CSI and Law and Order. i do like the fake autopsies. a culture so grossly obesessed with grossness. i love it too and don’t even try to deny it. you’ve probably got something on in the backround like being bobby brown where you can see just how gross whitney houston is. she all wants us to know when she needs to take a poop.

This is James. Hear him Roar.

So when i started this i made a pledge that it wouldn’t be censored. It’s hard though, to include everything that’s going on without hurting certain parties involved and i’m not about that so i’ll tell you about someone i met on the bus. Her name was Rhonda. She was 37 but looked more like 47. She had high cheekbones that forced the rest of her skin to look as if had been sucked under them. Her hair was a fried blonde that looked as if had been cut by someone stuck in 1991. Most of her bottom teeth were missing and a couple of the ones on top too. Except of course for the top ones that stuck out of her mouth when she slept, like some kind of rodent. Her frame was so small that she looked like the only person I ever met to be comfortable on the bus. She got on the bus in Utah when I was on my way back from Oregon. This is her story.

Rhonda grew up in Michigan. Rhonda has been to jail twice. Once for some kind of check scam because she wanted to “add some extra Christmas cheer” that year. She has 3 children and not all of them by her husband. Rhonda’s favorite phrase is “girl I loves me some fill in the blank”. The blank could be filled in by weed, sex, coke, and other various substances/vices. After being married for 15 years she caught her husband cheating on her with some kind of “street walking whore”. She left with her neighbor to go to Reno. At first I assumed that she was with a woman, but I later learned that it was a man, who she started having her own little affair with. She claims this was after they got there, but I have my doubts. She told me that she hadn’t slept almost the whole time she was in Reno and fell asleep after she told me this. She soon woke up and told me more. She showed me pictures of her kids and a really blurry one of her husband. She kept using other people’s phones because she was trying to figure out where he wired the money to. He bought her a bus ticket to North Carolina to come live with him in his prefabed doublewide trailer. “Do you know how nice those are girl? They already come furnished with real wood.” WOW. That’s great Rhonda. She also had a stalker. She showed me the clipping in the newspaper. It was a big faded heart with her initials plus the stalkers initials. I have never had a stalker. Not to my knowledge anyway. Maybe he’s just too clever for me. She also liked to read. She had a Dean Koontz book with her. Something that looked like it was about aliens or something. At least she knew how to read. Rhoda was quite a character. Probably better then in any Koontz book. I hardly do her justice.

so my heart feel like it’s literally swelling out of my chest. Like it’s going to come out of my body. Perhaps this is because Nicole is behind the wheel of my car and she’s been drinking. Drinking all day in fact. We just cam from Jen’s house where they were playing poker and i don’t know how many times they had to tell her “it’s a tournement” because she kept trying to buy her way into the table. Because my heart feels the way it does i tell her that i think i’m developing an ulcer, either that or i’m pregnant, or the idea that i am pregnant is giving me an ulcer. We’re driving around in Kingwood again and there’s a thick fog. It started to really creep me out on the back roads, all dark, my car almost out of gas. I thought we would break down, or hit something and we’d be taken hostage by some creepy villinous creature that dwells in the back country of Kingwood. Seriously. When we get on to Rt. 12 which is like state trooper heaven i have to keep telling her to stop swerving. She keeps trying to adjust but nothing seems to be happening. When i tell her about the troopers she just giggles and says “there’s only ever one on this road; we’ll be at the cut off point soon” and in my mind i’m like what fucking cutoff point, the one where we crash, or get pulled over?. So when we finally hit Old Croton just exhale and my heart begins to resume its normal size. We pass an awesome car though.

Apparently they owners even decorate it with christmas lights in the winter months. Just because it’s so stupendous. We’re on the home stretch and i’m feeling ok again. My night of terror has ended and i’m not sure whether to be thankful or disapointed.

I came to philadelphia this week end to bail out of the uncomfortable situation at my parents’ house. i just couldn’t take it. So i went to hang out with john at his parents’ empty house. They were on vacation so it was free reign. I smoked a joint with his dad’s pot and we ate a lot of their vegetables. afterwards it was back to our apartment, which is actually more john’s apartment. we moved here only a week or two before i left on my trip. so coming back has been strange and i have to start moving all of my stuff out of here soon. last night i went to exhumed films with my horror nerd friend kevin. i’ve never felt too at home with that crowd because my hair isn’t dyed black and i’m not either wearing some kind of horror t shirt, or look, in the least, punk rock. i’m pretty normal looking by urban standards and i’ve always blended into the back of the room when it comes to horror cons/screenings. it was fun, but my eyes started to feel really heavy during Let’s Scare Jessica to Death, which had an interesting premise, but was definitely too slow for a second feature. A lot of the gore kids were really disappointed but it. So i bid kevin goodbye and had john pick me up for a late night feast at Wendy’s. Me, of course, Picking apart my burger so that i wouldn’t have to eat the bread. My weight is an extremely unhealthy issue that i have with myself.

It’s like i can never ever be thin enough. i don’t stop eating, so don’t get the idea in your head that i’m eating a cracker and an apple a day. Don’t even try to picture me above an open toilet seat trying to make myself puke either. i’ve never even been able to do that unless i’m retardedly drunk. I’m just obsessed with looking a certain way. I used to work out, but i’ve been broke so my gym membership is no longer. So when it’s too hot outside to run (i hate running too) i just try my best to do atkins. which is the only diet that has ever worked for me. i can eat all the cheese i want, so it doesn’t bother me that i can’t eat cake, or ice cream. i just fantasize about them. Being covered in them and licking them off myself. yeah cake and ice cream. you are my dreams come true in sugar form.

i, however, digress. john and i are still having sex, which is really no secret. We did it this morning. And then we went to breakfast. Afterwards we went to see The Dukes of Hazzard. Which was extremely fun and something that i would expect from any summer movie. I laughed out loud a lot and i wasn’t even stoned. The Dukes are just so cute in a dumb way. And although Daisy Duke:

has to shake her ass in order to get what she wants i think she’s empowered. She’s a strong female in that she can prey on the sexual instincts of men to play them and get what she wants out of them. She saves the day several times. I don’t think Jessica Simpson fills out the ass portion enough, but she’s not hard to look at. i read she carries a journal with her in her purse. i hope that’s true because it gives me a new found respect for the woman. These entries are all over the place, huh?

i’m pretty exited. i almost figured this style sheet stuff out. i can’t seem to change the font or the time though.

So admittedly i’m a little drunk on old english right now, belive me, not my choice. I am really fucking up things with my friendships too. But at least i made 15 dollars today at the begal shoppee. i cleaned up with Nicole today and they paid me for it. I’m going in on staurday and they should be paying be 9 dollars an hour under the the table, which should happily take care of my credit card bill for this month. I’m so sick of alot of things and i probably shouldn’t even be making an entry becauase of hittin the sauce. I want a t shirt that says I like To Hit the Sauce. Ok, so that’s it i guess. Other then i just had another fight with chris because i’m a girl and i’m too sensitive.