*Snatches from Meagan* Muahahaha... ha. I hate doing shit like this, but it's been a long day. I need some good old fashion narcissism. Onward ego!
three names you go by
1) Lisa
2) Denise
3) Thunder Thighs McGee
three screen names you have
1) Flying Nun
2) LPcowgal333
3) Defuchsia
three physical things you like about yourself
1) Thumbs
2) Boobs (they're so perky too!)
3) Butt/Hips (good for child bearing... bad for most chairs)
three physical things you don't like about yourself
1) Collosal arms that linger from a decade of softball
2) Face fat
3) Thighs
three parts of your heritage
1) Czechoslovakian (and lots of it)
2) umm...German
3) White! I'm white! *hugs self and cries in corner*
three things that scare you
1) Turning out like my parents
2) Airplanes
3) Mediocrity
three of your everyday essentials
1) Diet Soda
2) Deodorant
3) Witty Banter
three things you're wearing right now
1) T-shirt (complete with mysterious stains)
2) Pants (85% Polyester 15% Spandex)
3) Underwear
three of your favorite bands or music artists
1) Coldplay
2) Aretha Franklin
3) The Doors
three of your favorite songs
1) Green Eyes - Coldplay
2) Can't Hurry Love - Diana Ross
3) Don't Stop Me Now - Queen
three things you want in a relationship
1) Affection... lots and lots of affection
2) Unlimited foot/head/shoulder massages
3) Someone who will argue with me... and win... and then point and laugh
two truths and a lie
1) I think everyone is beautiful
2) I loath most of the people I meet
3) I plan on being obese later in life
three physical things about the preferred sex that appeal to you
1) Big shoulders and arms
2) Play-able hair (preferably not greasy)
3) Pudge... oh how I love the pudge
three of your favorite hobbies
1) Piano
2) Eating cookie dough
3) Writing
three things you want to do really badly right now
1) Cuddle
2) Play the viola
3) Make something out of playdough
three careers you're considering
1) Doctor... physician's assistant... OB/GYN!!!... cooters.
2) Impoverished english major
3) Trucker
three places you want to go on vacation
1) England (without parents)
2) New York (without parents)
3) Nepal (without parents)
three names you want for your children
1) Joaquin
2) Dalila
3) Adolf
three things you want to do before you die
1) Jump off something really tall
2) Be so happy that I cry
3) Be an extra in a porn film
three ways you're sterotypically a boy
1) Low voice
2) Buff
3) Like to blow things up just for the sake of blowing something up
three ways you're stereotypcially a girl
1) Manipulating
2) Emotional and motherly around small children and babies
3) Vain
three people you would like to see do this
1) David
2) Ben
3) Bellami
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Friday, May 27, 2005
So this is what death feels like...
Hmm... I always thought it would have more of a tingling sensation to it. Like when you rub Nyquil on your... umm... yeah.
So anyway I think I can't digest gluten anymore... or so I hypothesize. My stomach feels like it's full of air and is pressing up into my diaphragm which in turn is scraping away the cushioney goo that coats my lungs. So there. Diagnose me, baby.
...and I think I'm getting a sinus infection.
...and I have come to the conclusion that all humans are inherently flawed and life has no meaning. Which isn't as bad as it sounds.
...and I don't think kemotherapy is the answer to cancer (oh, the rhyming). In fact, I think that western medicine is pretty pathetic in general. The entire nation relies so heavily on pills that things like... oh... I don't know, logic are now obsolete. Hey! Instead of smoking and then having to take medication three times a day for stomach ulcers, periodontitis,coronary heart disease, or lung/bladder/kidney/cervical/mouth cancer you could just like... not smoke. Or you could put down that large fry and eat an apple instead. Or a carrot. Vegetables are your fucking friends! *Screams*... *Rips hair out*.
...and life has no meaning.
So anyway I think I can't digest gluten anymore... or so I hypothesize. My stomach feels like it's full of air and is pressing up into my diaphragm which in turn is scraping away the cushioney goo that coats my lungs. So there. Diagnose me, baby.
...and I think I'm getting a sinus infection.
...and I have come to the conclusion that all humans are inherently flawed and life has no meaning. Which isn't as bad as it sounds.
...and I don't think kemotherapy is the answer to cancer (oh, the rhyming). In fact, I think that western medicine is pretty pathetic in general. The entire nation relies so heavily on pills that things like... oh... I don't know, logic are now obsolete. Hey! Instead of smoking and then having to take medication three times a day for stomach ulcers, periodontitis,coronary heart disease, or lung/bladder/kidney/cervical/mouth cancer you could just like... not smoke. Or you could put down that large fry and eat an apple instead. Or a carrot. Vegetables are your fucking friends! *Screams*... *Rips hair out*.
...and life has no meaning.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
"... and I've got me a ringside view for my quaint little fetish."
Back again to talk more about myself and probably commit some act of bitching before all is said and done...
Wanted: Someone currently possessing hands and feet who is willing to sit for multiple hours and let me practice Henna on them. You won't actually get paid, but hey! You do get to enjoy my company and bask in the sweet sweet fumes of Sharpie (because I can't actually afford to make any of the real stuff... yet).
Right... so to Wayne (who has accused my of being "boring") I offer now the official account of Lisa's Grounding. Eat it up, bitches.
Saturday night I may have partied a bit, and I may or may not have gotten a bit inebriated... *insert wild acts of skinny dipping, rampant sex, and the like here* And when I came home two hours late my parents may or may not have found my stash and the Cambodian hooker that I keep in my closet...
Ok not really... I can't back that up...
Last Monday I told my dad I was going to yoga and went to Abernathy's with David instead. There. That's the whole story. It's so CRAZY!!! You better hold me down, 'cause I'm a mad woman... MAD!!!... CRAZY!!!
So now I am supposedly grounded... which means that I sit around the house doing the stuff I would normally do, except with more guilt... and I do feel guilty... now that I think about it. Because I lie a lot...
Chances are I've probably lied to you... twice. I lie even when it's not really important, just because I think it will make things easier... and most of the time it does, until it catches up with me and I can't bullshit my way out like I usually do. In fact, I had a dream that I lied last night. Oh yeah, I do it in my sleep. That's how good I am.
Wanted: Someone currently possessing hands and feet who is willing to sit for multiple hours and let me practice Henna on them. You won't actually get paid, but hey! You do get to enjoy my company and bask in the sweet sweet fumes of Sharpie (because I can't actually afford to make any of the real stuff... yet).
Right... so to Wayne (who has accused my of being "boring") I offer now the official account of Lisa's Grounding. Eat it up, bitches.
Saturday night I may have partied a bit, and I may or may not have gotten a bit inebriated... *insert wild acts of skinny dipping, rampant sex, and the like here* And when I came home two hours late my parents may or may not have found my stash and the Cambodian hooker that I keep in my closet...
Ok not really... I can't back that up...
Last Monday I told my dad I was going to yoga and went to Abernathy's with David instead. There. That's the whole story. It's so CRAZY!!! You better hold me down, 'cause I'm a mad woman... MAD!!!... CRAZY!!!
So now I am supposedly grounded... which means that I sit around the house doing the stuff I would normally do, except with more guilt... and I do feel guilty... now that I think about it. Because I lie a lot...
Chances are I've probably lied to you... twice. I lie even when it's not really important, just because I think it will make things easier... and most of the time it does, until it catches up with me and I can't bullshit my way out like I usually do. In fact, I had a dream that I lied last night. Oh yeah, I do it in my sleep. That's how good I am.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
"I've got me a white-bread sandwich with some shredded lettuce..."
*Updates blog due to growing pangs of guilt*... *realizes that she has no reason to be guilty, for she owes nothing to the world... nothing*.
Apparently, "In Utero" will not be getting published in Cacophony... something about inappropriate content. Heaven forbid that any of us should be the product of or have any association with this dreadful "sperm". But Rozzy labeled it a "very entertaining little read" and Iain called it "genius"... so I feel a little better.
And I'm going to be on the "Who's Who" page of the yearbook. Which means I shall be glorified in a shiny 4" x 4" section of a 500 page publication. Woot.
David came home. And then I got grounded (literally, the day after). Details are superfluous. Oh sweet inconvenience.
And you know what pisses me off? Of course you don't. Because lord knows that I never ever complain about anything... *cuts the sarcasm with a butter knife*... when people who do nice shit get trampled on because other people take the nice shit they do for granted. That's shit.
Like Bellami who works her ass off in the "Hell Hole de Pollo" and makes cupcakes every other night and still manages to maintain a kick ass GPA and not turn into a bitch. Kudos to you, you sexy thang.
Wow... that was all very self-centered... not to mention quite stunted. Like an egotistical leper.
Apparently, "In Utero" will not be getting published in Cacophony... something about inappropriate content. Heaven forbid that any of us should be the product of or have any association with this dreadful "sperm". But Rozzy labeled it a "very entertaining little read" and Iain called it "genius"... so I feel a little better.
And I'm going to be on the "Who's Who" page of the yearbook. Which means I shall be glorified in a shiny 4" x 4" section of a 500 page publication. Woot.
David came home. And then I got grounded (literally, the day after). Details are superfluous. Oh sweet inconvenience.
And you know what pisses me off? Of course you don't. Because lord knows that I never ever complain about anything... *cuts the sarcasm with a butter knife*... when people who do nice shit get trampled on because other people take the nice shit they do for granted. That's shit.
Like Bellami who works her ass off in the "Hell Hole de Pollo" and makes cupcakes every other night and still manages to maintain a kick ass GPA and not turn into a bitch. Kudos to you, you sexy thang.
Wow... that was all very self-centered... not to mention quite stunted. Like an egotistical leper.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Homina Homina Homina
No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher's dirty... what? Two more weeks? *scream* *impales self in aorta with sharpened # 2 pencil*.
But on a positive note, it's Friday. The sacred day of the week when we can all just go out, get more shit-faced than if we were bobbing for apples in cow manure, and pretend like life won't suck on Monday. TGIF, bichos!!!
And on the subjects of self-centered-ness and egocentricality... *isn't sure those are actual words*... dear god! Make it stop. Being self-centered is fine. Highschool (and probably into college) is the wonderful stage in your life when you are the universe. You're looking for yourself and your place in the world (hence the people that can find nothing interesting to say other than things that correspond to them). But when you cross that line... that dreaded threshold... that takes you into the realm of complete egoism... *shudder*... The point where you bow down to nothing, look up to no one, are so utterly lost in your own grandeur that the world is merely a shapeless mass of grey that circulates around your very existence... well that's just sad.
... And Creative Writing III T-shirts!!! They will probably be ten dollars... maybe eight if a shizz-load of people buy them. The plan is for a black shirt with a pink chair on the front and "See you in Sheboygan (May 12, 2052)" written in white on the back. They won't actually have the words "Creative Writing 3" on them anywhere... so yah, they're open to anyone. If you want one, leave a comment telling me how wonderful I am and what size you want. If you don't, leave a comment telling me how wonderful I am anyway. Please please please try to have money on Monday and spread the word! Like butta'.
But on a positive note, it's Friday. The sacred day of the week when we can all just go out, get more shit-faced than if we were bobbing for apples in cow manure, and pretend like life won't suck on Monday. TGIF, bichos!!!
And on the subjects of self-centered-ness and egocentricality... *isn't sure those are actual words*... dear god! Make it stop. Being self-centered is fine. Highschool (and probably into college) is the wonderful stage in your life when you are the universe. You're looking for yourself and your place in the world (hence the people that can find nothing interesting to say other than things that correspond to them). But when you cross that line... that dreaded threshold... that takes you into the realm of complete egoism... *shudder*... The point where you bow down to nothing, look up to no one, are so utterly lost in your own grandeur that the world is merely a shapeless mass of grey that circulates around your very existence... well that's just sad.
... And Creative Writing III T-shirts!!! They will probably be ten dollars... maybe eight if a shizz-load of people buy them. The plan is for a black shirt with a pink chair on the front and "See you in Sheboygan (May 12, 2052)" written in white on the back. They won't actually have the words "Creative Writing 3" on them anywhere... so yah, they're open to anyone. If you want one, leave a comment telling me how wonderful I am and what size you want. If you don't, leave a comment telling me how wonderful I am anyway. Please please please try to have money on Monday and spread the word! Like butta'.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Who's got the keys to the Jeep?
Right. So enough with the ambiguous confessions and what not. In hindsight that was rather pointless and shallow and unnecessary. Yum.
School is still crap. AP tests were a pain. And the new SAT... oh my god the new SAT. I spent 5 hours freezing under fluorescent lights and all I got was a pulsating growth on my forehead. *Bubbles area of growth in with a number 2 pencil*.
And I wanna go to Cornell. Oh how I long for a taste of that sweet sweet over-priced ivy league. Now I know what it's like to have a dream. Maybe next I'll acquire a conscience and some form of a soul. I've always wanted to be able to weep with all the blubbering whores at the movie theater.
And........
I have nothing more to say. My how dull I am tonight.
School is still crap. AP tests were a pain. And the new SAT... oh my god the new SAT. I spent 5 hours freezing under fluorescent lights and all I got was a pulsating growth on my forehead. *Bubbles area of growth in with a number 2 pencil*.
And I wanna go to Cornell. Oh how I long for a taste of that sweet sweet over-priced ivy league. Now I know what it's like to have a dream. Maybe next I'll acquire a conscience and some form of a soul. I've always wanted to be able to weep with all the blubbering whores at the movie theater.
And........
I have nothing more to say. My how dull I am tonight.
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