but you gotta believe a 2 armed player would have made the catch

i feel…conflicted. this whole weekend i have felt conflicted. the deep thinky thoughts won’t go away, and so i get distracted by them, and i kind of think that that makes me a bad girlfriend.
thank goodness i’m really good at sucking dick, or jon might trade me in for an upgrade.

i’ve been taking benadryl at night to try and help me get to sleep. it doesnt really work. by the time i do fall asleep, i have to be awake in three hours and i feel like i’ve been hit by a truck in the morning. so, not only am i potentially addicting myself either physically or mentally to an antihistamine, and also potentially building an immunity to its actual helpfulness, i am not sleeping and probably more exhausted than i would have been if i had just not slept anway.

my new tongue rings have been keeping me occupied. they are super fun to play with in my mouth!!! wooo!!!! shopping is awesome!!!!

i think i need new highlights before me and jon go to north carolina and i meet the rest of his family that i havent met yet. i think i should look my absolute cutest for when that happens. i’m nervous about flying. i havent done it in six or seven years and it freaks me out as it is. i just believe in physics and that whole, what goes up, must come down thing, and that’s freaky because it’s not like it’s what goes up must come down at exactly the same rate of speed and without incidence. there could be definite burning ball of fire crashing to the eart action.

again, i am unsuccessful in distracting myself from the thoughts that are invading my mind. it’s like they’re screaming, i cant stop thinking about them, there is basically nothing that i can do about them, and i’m turning into more of a headcase than i am already.

the weekends are too short. by the time i am settling myself into relaxing and enjoying myself, they are over, and that really effing sucks.

rah rah rah…done complaining.

x-rated

maybe not quite x-rated, but we’ll see how it turns out.
the title isn’t meant to be misleading or whimsical or random, like most of my other titles turn out, it is meant sort of as a warning.

this whole past week i have been suffering. last thursday is when it all began…i woke up and i really wanted a lollipop, and so i got one. or rather, fran got me two when she went to 7-11, and it was one of those super blow pops that are hugeongous and wonderful and super yummy delicious. and i freaking enjoi-ed it. and dr. paul says that i enjoy lollipos a little too much, but i think that if every girl enjoyed them as much as i do, the world might be a better place.

anyway.

that’s how it started. so i have been craving lollipops all week and that got me thinking about my mouth and about how much i love sucking on things and how it works out really well with my tongue ring most of the time, because it gives me something to do in my mouth all of the time. and then i realized that i lost my favorite tongue ring. it’s a barbell with a hoop and another little ball through it. i can twirl the hoop and ball with my tongue and it’s fun and it apparently feels really good during a blowjob…and well, it feels good for me during a blow job too cause it sorta massages the tongue.

so when i realized it was gone i was upset. i had gone to put it in and it was nowhere to be found. so sunday jon took me to a couple different places to fnd one, and i couldnt find one ANYWHERE!!!! so, frustrated and unfulfilled, i came home and ordered one monday night. i couldnt find the exact one, but i found one that has the same concept but two little hoops and balls…FUN!!! i also ordered a few other tongue rings, one called the jackhammer which has these spikey ball looking things except they arent spikey they are more massagey and they spin and i cant wait to test drive it with a dick in my mouth. i had it in before, and it feels cool on my tongue and the roof of my mouth.

and you know why all of this matters? i dont know, because im orally fixated. i used to suck my thumb, or have to have a lollipop, or suck on basically anything that was around that i could wiggle my tongue around. to the point where jon said to me once, “that’s one of the first things that we all noticed about you,” meaning him and the other boys. which i find mildly insulting, but i can also keenly remember when i met them when i was seventeen and an episode with a ring pop and a smirnoff ice bottle.

and i actively try to convert the girls i know that are wary about sucking dick, because i dont think enough girls out there are aware of the awesomeness that comes with that particular lollipop. because, you know what? maybe paul is right…maybe i do enjoy lollipops a little too much, but that’s just because it’s like a form of foreplay foreplay.

being able to suck a cock well, is a powerful thing. some women think it’s degrading or whatever, but i say they just must not be doing it right. becuase, when you are doing it right, you are in control. you can make his knees buckle, his eyes roll into his head, and have him under your complete control. he might have his hands in your hair and he might even be pushing your head and fucking your mouth a bit, but you are the one with the teeth and he knows that.

and seriously, the sounds that a guy makes, the knowledge that you are giving him such pleasure, it’s completely empowering. i dont know a guy who doesnt love getting his dick sucked, and i think girls should be using it to their advantage. like i said, it’s a powerful thing, and all it takes is practice with some lollipops for some good swirling twirling techniques, and a popsicle for some distance practice

this is like a big blog post devoted to how i love to suck.

the other thing is…the penis is cool. it is so smooth and soft but all hard at the same time. it is simple and has that wonderful mushroom top that’s so juicy. that’s what i think whenever i see it, that it’s juicy and i wanna wrap my lips around it and see just how juicy it is.

and there’s always an ooey gooey center.

and that is another thing that i dont understand about some girls. there is a spit or swallow debate out there? why?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! all you have to do is think about it this way, it’s already in your mouth, all you have to do is swallow it? it doesnt taste bad, it doesnt taste like anything really! get over yourself, he doesnt have a choice about tasting it when he’s going down on you. take one for the team, the human race will thank you.

and i really think that if girls the world over were more willing to give their men the blowjobs that they deserve, the world would be a better place. i think guys would be able to relax so much more and get so much more done.

im not saying that a woman should be forced into doing it if she really doesnt want to, or course. i am not some coldhearted bitch. im only saying that some women need to open their minds a bit and open up that having a dick in your mouth is kind of a wonderful thing.

remember girls: you may be the one on your knees, but it’s him who’s in the submissive position.

the jackhammer

it’s in my mouth and im kind of in love.

im so confused about so many things.

i think i should get some rest and try again tomorrow. try what? i dont even know. i feel like the thoughts in my head are dangerous and i should be walking around with a warning sign on my forehead.

because it’s such a nice snake

i feel like an oil slick…a very attractive one, but an oil slick nonetheless.
i just took a nice and hot, long bubble bath complete with victoria’s secret body wash and scrub and all that jazz. i deep conditioned my hair while soaking and afterwards put on that lotion that’s supposed to give you a natural glow. the natural glow part, i’m sure, is why i feel like an oil slick. but, i have to be wearing a skirt in a week and with the amount of bruises and white skin i have, something must be done stat. i have no desire to wear stockings…so im going to do everything i can to avoid it.

my daddy is coming to the midnight harry potter showing!!!! wooooooo!!!!!! i heart my daddy

i love taking bubble baths. i rarely have the oppurtunity, and i believe that the last one i was a part of was when me and jon went on vacation for my birthday….back in april…which is now three months ago. but, my skin gets all hot and pink and feels supersoft and silky. i feel like i sparkle afterward…and every girl needs something that makes her feel like she sparkles.

and i needed a bubblebath because….my boobs have increased in size…AGAIN!!! what the fuck man?!?!?!?! i swear to gods, whenever i lose weight my boobs increase in size. it is like the inverse proportion from hell and…i hate it. it’s hard enough to find cute and lacy bras as it is, and now you’re telling me that they have grown? life is so unfair.
i know.
dont say it.
shut up.
my funbags may be fabulous, but im sort of angry with them right now.

hmm…let’s talk about work and pain management, or, as i like to call it, the day of the neverending parade of crackheads.

the parade doesnt begin at 830, when i get to work in the morning, but that’s when the preliminaries start. people call to make sure that the doctor will, in fact, be in, because they are in so much pain and really need to see him and have every single excuse in the book as to why they havent been able to get in for the past two weeks for treatment, but will make an appointment to see Doc when they come in today, *insert over the phone puppy dog eyes here* because i swear to goodness that they are audible.

my skin smells like caramel right now, kinda cool.

but anyway…

the first patient of the day, is always the first patient of the day, because she needs her fix from her legal drug dealer. she is one of the ones who always calls the day of or the day before making sure that the doctor will be in because she is in so much pain because she can barely walk,
“but you havent been in in two weeks to see Doc. If you arent treating with Doc, you can’t come in for pain management.”
“but i dont care about feeling better, i just care about not feeling.” or rather, “i’ve had transportation issues, i’ll make an appointment to see Doc when im there.”
“alright, but this is the last time. the pain management doctor wont see you if you arent treating.”

and she comes in, is actually waiting outside of the door before we open while smoking a cigarette, and is telling one of the new patients her sob story about how she has thiw wrong with her and this wrong with her and she gets this many shots in her neck every time she sees the doctor and she is so fucked up and hurting (but never comes in for treatment) and you’ll be getting meds and shots too, so be prepared. and the new patient is eating it up because she actually turns out to be a crackhead who was discharged from another dx’s care for being a crackhead and she is on three different types of narcotic pain medication, plus a muscle relaxer, and came into the office yesterday saying how she didnt actually want to see the chiropractor, she just wanted to see the pain management doctor. so basically, she wants her fix.

and i know, i shouldnt make fun of it or them, because they are legitimately addicted to the pain medication at this point, but at least pretend you are interested in getting treated and feeling better. i mean, arent addicts supposed to jump through hoops in order to get their fix? start jumping crackheads!!!!!!!!!!!

i ate dinner with my family tonight, and every interaction with my mother reminds me why i hate her so much, and why all the mother characters in my stories play the cold, heartless, villain. bitch.
i dont understand her. or really, i understand her perfectly, and yet am still flummoxed by her utterly. the things she does and says will never make sense to anyone but her and the voice that she thinks is jesus whispering in her ear. and im afraid of schizo patients, ell oh ell, let me tell you.
don’t you have to die to be a martyr? im pretty sure that you do, so, maybe she should get on that so that she can actually be the martyr that she plays in real life 3D so well.

that sounds as cold, heartless, and villainous as the mother characters in my stories, and as the mother character in my real life, but we learn how to be from the people that raise us, dont we? my mother doesn’t really have to die, she can just go away forever and never come back and never try to contact any of us ever again.

and my poor father is still just as in love with her as he has always been, and that is something that i will never understand. i will never understand how my father can love such a person willingly, when i dont even feel the pull of obligation on my heartstrings to tell her that i love her.

my mother…she says things like, “if that were my kid, i would hunt the bastard down and kill him.” because it’s like she doesnt remember that it was her kid, and she didnt do anything. she just laid there. and i think that, maybe, i’m justified in hating her as much as i do. and my sister is just like her, and that scares me so effing much, because my sister says the same thing, all parents say the same thing, “if it were my kidthey would be putting me in jail for murdering the fuck.” well…hopefully other parents have more follow through.

i dont know. deep thinky thoughts still, you know? deep thinky thoughts that are trying to leak out and im trying to suck back in.

there aren’t enough

hours in the day.
it’s so true and so pathetic.
because by the time that i am finished doing everything all day long for everyone else, i have about five minutes to my very self before i fall asleep and am getting ready to do it all again.

i wish that i could invent another hour in the day that i could devote specially to writing. but i cant. that would apparently throw off the days of the year, little by little, until eventually we were bringing out the snow blowers in mid july. fucking physics.

instead…i try and make the time occur in time that already exists. heretofore, i have been unsuccessful.because, by the time that i get home from work and cook dinner and change out of my work clothes, it’s time for me to go and get my dad. and when i get home from going to get my dad it is time for me to make sure that i have something to wear for tomorrow, and then i have to brush my teeth and wash my face and fall asleep, or go out and get my brother.

because my mother couldnt possibly be expected to pick up her husband or her son…that is just too much to be asked of her selfish, unemployed ass.

i have the worst headache right now, because i fell asleep for fifteen minutes before and i fell asleep in the most awful position so that the work that dr p did on my back must have been eradicated, or some other sort of bs. or maybe i’m getting sick, which i doubt, mostly because i dont have time to be sich right now.

deep thinky thoughts are still plaguing me and i really don’t have time for them either. but, they catch me off guard at times and lead to questions that go, “are you alright?” to which i always answer in the affirmative, because any other answer just takes too much of the time that i dont have.

my ideas are worth it. i read some of the things that i have written and they are so amazing and beautiful and wonderful, that it’s like it wasnt even me. they are so fucking perfect that i want to stop working on whatever they are a part of because i could never live up to the words again in that piece so why even try. but i dont give up, because then there is nothing to strive for. and for what is the purpose of living this fucked up life if not to try for the betterment of self?

im tired of the crazy shithouses…there is enough going on in my head without having to worry about what’s going on in theirs. crazy shithouse number one…i cant even look him in the eye, because i am afraid that if i do he might begin to think that i am either a) trying to hypnotize him and force him to do things by controlling him with my voice in his head or b) trying to melt his brains or his soul through the use of my invisible laser eyebeams and of course it’s through his eyes because as we all know the eyes are windows to the brains as well as the soul, or c) i will unwittingly enter into some sort of animalistic alpha animal type staring contest that will end with him trying to tear my throat out with his teeth for ‘challenging him’. and i am dead ass fucking serious.

i want to wash my hands of the whole ordeal, but i feel like doing nothing is just as bad as doing all of the wrong things. the only appropriate thing to do at this point would be to dial 911 the next time he looks at me with his crazy blank eyed stare and get him taken away for his own good. once the docs tweaked his meds he would be fine again. and then i still probably wouldnt want to see him because i would feel bad about subjecting him to the kind of hell where he cant piss without permission, but it really would be for his own good.

and then there is the crazy shithouse that swoons at the thought of paul touching his badly toupeed head and grabs his balls when he’s talking to a female (probably to the end of making sure his junk is warmed up, just in case). the guy who then sits out in his car, staring in the windows at us, faking phone conversations when we look in his direction or step outside. he may just be weird and funny and a subject of many many good jokes for some of the others, but i see the look in his eyes and i heard how angry he was at the phone. the speed at which he goes from hot to cold is alarming and he calls me sweetheart and it’s creepy. especially because he’s grabbing his junk.

at least it’s been over a week since i’ve had a jesus pamphlet thrust in my face, filled with fun facts about how i will eventually be burning in hell, unless of course the messiah returns in 2012 and just melts my eyeballs out of their sockets at first sight, puts my carcass on a spit, and uses me to attract other bad people who want to feast on my super yummy bad person flesh. the smell is enticing to other baddies, i’ve heard.

and there arent enough hours in the day. my head is pounding, and i feel a little dizzy, and there are things that i want to be working on. but these thoughts in my head, they’re like a handicap that i just dont want to talk about. maybe i’ll digress into a frankenstein blank stare because the thoughts behind my eyes are immense and just dont transmit.

im scared because it’s familiar. schizos and jesus freaks and debhilitatingly OCD pervs are all too familiar and i dont want to deal with it. i dont want to deal with what comes and is worse. did i sign up for this? im really not sure. am i going to walk away? i know that i wont. the material is priceless.

and that is only halfway a joke.

my dad wont go in to see doc, even though he says that his back is killing him. he says that it’s just another dr and he sees enough already. he says it’s probably just arthritis and nothing can be done about it. but there is stuff, i mean, no cure, but it can be treated. i just dont want my dad to suffer…he does enough as it is.

i want to cry all of the time. my thoughts are immense and too large to transmit through my eyes. so i suck on lollipops and think of happier, more distracting things, that dont adequately distract me, because apparently my mind is like a vortex with thoughts swirling around the center, and i just am able to see them and hear them and glimpse them all the time. swirling round and round like candy in a cotton machine. i am not brave enough to wield the stick that will swirl the thought into sensical fluff that can be digested. it builds. the machine jams. i choke on candied cotton spuff and the saliva melted goop hardens, casing me in a saccharine cacoon.

the world around me spins. i dont think that i will ever win. duck. duck. duck. goose. chase me chase me. you will lose.

i write and i write and nothing gets done, because there is always another things poking at my attention span and begging for a turn.

i might just be hopeless…but that doesnt mean i’ll give up quite yet.

i get all deep thinky. which i usually do not mind as deep thinky thoughts are some of the best kinds of thoughts that there are, but i do not have the time for them lately. i barely have time to think stupid, shallow thoughts, let alone the big thinky ones that are insistent and persistent and will not leave me the eff alone.

i do not want to unload, even here, but i feel like my mind being bogged down by the fog of deep thinky thoughts is bringing down the people all around me. i know that jon could sense it. i know that i can sense it. i know that…i know that there are things to say and that i just do not want to say them. i have to get through thinking them first.

fourth of july was standard, except for the fact that there was sun instead of rain, and that’s the first time that’s happened in the past three or four years. at the fourth of july party @ the philips’ house, jon was completely able to bring up the fourth of july party from three years ago, which is one that i would rather forget for about ten different reasons. and he brought it up in front of jess so the whole time that we talked about it, which was about four point five minutes, we talked all cryptic and around the bush-y. he tried to make up for putting his foot in his mouth by saying things like, “yeah, i remember i pointed you out to weiner and said, ‘i want to do her’ and ‘things have changed so much since three years ago and the best thing is that you’re mine now’ and admittedly, the second attempt was way better than the first, but he should really know by now that three years ago…there are things that i would just rather forget.

a good time was had at the party though. fireworks display run by doug was fantastic as always and, as always, we were amazed by the things that the guy can do with old grill parts and non dairy creamer. the non dairy creamer thing is the scariest part, because, and you should take my word for it, you do not want that shit spilling on your gas lit stove….there WILL be fire.

it was nice to see the people that i really only get to see once a year, and dave and his son chris stopped by too. they only hung around for about half an hour. i told jon that he should really give dave a call sometime soon and we’ll all hang out.

im so confused about so many different things. i feel like my head is too full, and i feel like this was not distraction enough, or cathartic enough for me to waste any more time doing.

peace out cub scout.

dead man’s curve

the best part about today has to be me and my dad, right this very minute, sitting at the kitchen table listening to music and drinking white wine with ice cubs in it because the wine has been sitting in the cabinet for gods knows how long and who wants hot wine on a hot summer night, we want cold wine!!!!!!!

i tuned out today right about the time when our paranoid delusion patient came in and started saying things like, “do you know about d?”

“what?”

“you know, d, the D.”

“not really”"

“like devils and demons. but you can’t say his name because then he’ll come around.”

exactly when i check out and start counting the bunnies jumping over the fence in my mind, because that is just a little too crazy for me to want to deal with. when he goes to his car, gets his gun, and comes sback to kill us all, my ass will have been on the phone with the cops for ten minutes and there’ll be a sniper on the roof with a little red dot on his head.

work was different. when there’s a covering doctor…it’s just not as fun. then im stuck with mark and someone who’s a lot like mark except a female and they just talk about bullshit back and forth until i want to rip my own tongue out of my mouth and tie it around my head to protect my ears and feel guilty for if i have ever in my life made anyone feel the same way. i just…check out again, try and make sure the doctor doesnt scare away any patients, and assure the patients that the regular doctor will be coming back and he isnt abandoning them, like the last doctor that i kept telling them was coming back until, all of a sudden, there was a taller, leaner, greeker, more competent doctor in his place.

it’s hard to just work on my one thing…and i am unsuccessful, because im back to working on three things at once, and thinking about starting a fourth.

which im going to go work on now.

fabulosity. i dont like to be tied down…well, at least in the metaphoric sense, because being tied down in really life can be fun.

Next Post

there are a couple of things of which i am certain:

-sunburn sucks

-i look forward to work this week with a lot of trepidation

-my boyfriend is the love of my life

-vicky’s nightgowns rock

jon and i had a great weekend. it is just so great being with him, and it’s hard to be anything but happy when we are together. we watched gran torino, went to the park (which is where we got sunburn), played bond, and….had fun together
the suckiest part of this weekend is that i have to sleep alone tonight.

doc is away for the next week. good and bad.

im too tired to actually talk about anything that matters.

i know about crazy and i know about crazy christians too

you might think that you know about crazy…but fyi…i have a lot more hands on experience than you do. i may be blonde, i may be young, and i may play dumb really well sometimes, but i know more than you do. it’s a fact, get over it.

i know about crazy, i deal with crazy, i am actively dealing with crazy.

super crazy paranoid freakazoid who may have sprinkled arsenic on those munchkins so you better watch it. every day it is a new word salad and everyday you entertain him and his crazy ideas and all you do is tell him to see is doctor and every day he isnt going to do it. because, THEY dont want him to see his doctor and he will be perfectly alright with not seeing his doctor right up until the day where he brings in a gun or a knife and kills us all. thankfully, therer are a lot of us, so maybe only one or two of us will have to die before the rest of us get keen to what’s going on and are able to barricade ourselves safely or take him down. personally, i wont be playing the hero and i already know where i will be barricaded.

i dont laugh about it. i dont want to joke about it. because it isnt funny. it just gets more and more serious everyday because, believe me, i know crazy.

he sits there and he stares and he wont leave because there is something or someone out there waiting for him, or because he is waiting for the waves in the air to be condusive to his aura slipping through. they are telling things to him and he is surveilling and he is sitting and waiting and watching.

sometimes the descent is slow, like it was for him. slow, but all of a sudden, because all of a sudden he went from being a little weird to being really creepy and really effing crazy.

and i dont want to be around him. the air around him is infected with crazy and it’s catching like a disease. not actually, but i like to be as far away from crazy as it is possible to be. that’s just my thing.

now lets talk about another type of crazy….

dear self righteous jesus addict,

i am pretty sure it is because of people like you that make everyone in the rest of the world hate america. You are the perfect example of american hypocrisy. once upon a time the pilgrims sailed on ships over to america to escape religious persecution from the king of england. so when they got to america a bunch of them effing died until the people who were already here came along and threw us a bone cause they’re peaceable like that. and then after we got the hang of things we decided we wanted to kill them and take them over and turn them into good christian folk and make them want to be able to sail away somewhere to escape the religious persecution of people who werent even there first.

america, as i understand, was basically founded because people were tired of being told what to do, and wanted to figure out how to do things their damn selves. and that includes how we practice religion, if we want to practice it at all. so…the christians ruined it all. and you know why? because they are christians and they are just about as delusional as the paranoid schizophrenic from earilier in this post. i mean, seriously, they say God talks to them and we call them normal, but if some other joe says that God talks to him we call him crazy. bit of a double standard methinks. but, anyway….my main problem with christians is that they just cant keep it to their damn selves. they feel the effing need to try and convert every single fucking person that they meet.

see above re: i thought we founded this country because we wanted to be able to do things that we want to do, like choose how we practice religion. but christians feel that it is in their duty to make sure that everyone around them is a christian and they take it to the absolute extreme and gay people are going to hell, and premarital sex havers (hello 90 percent of the american population) are going to hell, and that if you tell a lie you are lying to God and stealing the truth from another person and, hey guess what, you are going to hell.

pamphlets…i sweat to effing jesi c that he gives me PAMPHLETS!!!! and they are scary and filled with cartoons who are able to warp the minds of children and ignorant people the world over because christians are the most intolerant people that exist in the world. because, not only are you going to hell if you arent christian, they feel the need to make your life a living hell by every single second of every single day telling you how much you suck and how very much you are going to burn in hell for all eternity, and how everything that you think is wrong, and that evolution is a big scam that the muslims invented or something like that.

because it’s much more likely that the entire nation of the world was propegated by a dude that was blinked into existence and the chick made from one of his ribs, which is really kind of sick, twisted, asexual, incest when you think about it.

another reason i hate christians…my mother. i will put this quote out there and let you interpret it as you will, “i’m not worried about it because i have already accepted victory in jesus.”

now…my interpretation and response:
interpretation: blah blah blah…im kind of delusional…blah blah blah

response: “you really need to stop it with the jesus bullshit and wake up and deal with reality like the rest of us.”

because…you know what…have God tell me why he’s killing my father, or why my sister is an effing crackhead, or why its so goddamn fucking hard for me to get through the day, or why my brother got diabetes, or why my uterus is lined with growths and my ovaries are fucked up, or why the neighbor is a sick fuck who put video cameras in a teenagers bathroom, or anything.

tell me why you think there is such an imossible coexistence of free will and of omniscience and omnipotence, because i would love for someone to tell me how that can rationally happen.

i know about crazy. i know about the mass delusion called religion. to me, they’re all paranoid schizophrenics and need to be put on some serious medication.

i still cant believe that my father believes in God. at least he isnt effing crazy over it.

i dont know…im ranting