"I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth."

Oh sweet economics class. How you beat my ass with a wooden spoon. Did mediocre on another test... so now I'm in the compulsive eating stage where I pick all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms and dread the disapproving looks that are bound to come with the telling of the parents.

Holy crap! Got a cell phone... and it only took 2 years. Now when someone calls me, I can actually answer! and talk! for more than 20 seconds. Technology... good.

Holy crap again! I can post pictures. This calls for a photographic celebration! *much plotting... that will come to fruition at later date*.

After compiling my entire CD collection and then trying to thrust my tastes upon others I have come to conclusion that I listen to really boring crap. Coldplay... Norah Jones... Simon & Garfunkel (ok, maybe not)... everything I like is slow and pretty and sleepy. I'm such a loser.

I have also drawn the conclusion that whenever I feel like something is going wrong in my life I run away. Well... maybe not "run away", it's more like push everything away. Whenever I stumble into the trough of typical teenage depression I assume that the problem is coming from some outside source, so I isolate myself from the world. Or break up with David... I seem to do that a lot too. And then everyone thinks that I hate them and I think that everyone hates me... mmm... vicious cycle. Quarantine is not the answer... except maybe with the ebola virus.

Here. Have a picture...



First person to identify the restaurant and the name of the dish gets a fruit basket!

The Harlequin Experience

Oh yeah... I read one. What now!?! What now!!!!!!

*Shifts dial behind ear from Gangsta' mode to Angry Suburban White Girl mode*... *removes doo rag*... *folds*... *puts in pocket*...

... actually... I didn't get an authentic Harlequin. It was some off-brand called Silhouette. And I didn't actually read it either... I kind of glanced at the first 30 pages and then skimmed the rest of it for that pulsating girating salivating finger-lickin'goodness that is literary porn... but that's not the beginning of the story! Not the beginning at all.

The Beginning of the Story
While paying a visit to my local library (which is crap, by the way), I came across the "Romance Novel" section. Impressed by its size, I came to the conclusion that surely there must lie some hidden greatness in this mysterious section that so few venture to explore. So I decided to try my hand at the reading of the romance novel. My criteria for choosing a book were simple: 1) less than 200 pages 2)have a title that would make me want to laugh and vomit and weep all at the same time.

I walked out of the library with a little gem titled The Princess Has Amnesia!, and my life would never be the same... *insert Lifetime mood music here*... *fade to black*...

The Middle of the Story
Actually, there isn't much of a story left. Just fun little excerpts that I plucked from those filthy pages of literary bile...

-"'The only way to keep you from getting hypothermia was to remove your wet clothes...'"

-"He looked so... irresistable."

-"He grew serious. 'Tell me what you want.'
Her fingers ran through his hair. 'Just you, and your love... and your baby.'"

The End of the Story
Leafing through its greasy pages one last time, Lisa finally threw the rancid novel down in disgust. A single tear slid down her cheek and dropped quietly between her heaving creamy-white ample opulently lush breasts.

"Will there ever be justice in the world?" Lisa whispered into the velvety darkness.

Suddenly in the doorway's dim lighting appeared three shadowy figures. Lisa gasped, her bosom giving one great heave before settling back into place (with appropriate jiggling). The figures stepped forward revealing themselves to be the male cast of the popular 90's sitcom Full House, complete with matching metallic man-thongs.

Lisa ran to her trio of rescuers and was immediately engulfed in the sweet undulations of man flesh and hard nipples. The lights dimmed permiscuously as the melody of cliche 70's porn music filled the darkness. Tonight... there would be justice.

The To Do List

Books to Read:
-Hotel New Hampshire (John Irving)
-The Witches of Eastwick (John Updike)
-The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood)
-The Canterbury Tales (Geoffrey Chaucer)
-Shadow (Bob Woodward)
-Fluke (Christopher Moore)
-The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)

Movies to See:
-Schindler's List
-Dumb and Dumber
-Ocean's 11
-There's Something about Mary
-Double Jeopardy

People to Do:
-That One Pretty Guy at the Gym

And Other Shit:
-Write a dirty novel
-Get dirty novel published
-Write an actual novel (in 30 days - starting July 1st)
-Get a kick ass group of people together and gallavant around Lake Jackson for an entire day of garage sale shopping
-Bake a big ass cake and leave in a public place
-Learn to play chess... and win

...and that's just about all the stuff that there is to do. Aren't lists comforting?

Blogs that piss me off...

God, I wish I had specific blogs that pissed me off. Then I could sneak up on them in the middle of the night and leave offensive comments under kick ass names like Joanie J. or Carl...

But alas... *strikes appropriate pose*... I have only genres that erg me... urg me... ourg me... is that even a word? *Looks questioningly at Meagan* And here they are! *enthusiasm*...

Le Pricks de Plagarism: Song lyrics do not constitute actual blogging. And though you may laud the band/artist on their creativity and passion and mad rhyming skills, it's still not yours. If you can't find the words to express your feelings then... I don't know... go eat something. Emotional clarity is obsolete when you've got chocolate cake. But please don't post copy-paste lyrics and then make me try to infer what the fuck you are trying to say.

Day by Day by Day...: If you want to document your entire day... please, for the love of all things holy... do it in a journal or a diary or write it in blood on your driveway. It's nice that you still have the ability to remember what you did 5 minutes ago, but frankly, I don't give a shit. And neither do most of the people that skim over the world of blogs. All we want is porn, and if your day didn't involve two sweaty Brazilians, a midget, and an assortment of colorful dildoes in a sauna-like setting... *shrug*.

Commercials Disguised as Blogs: ... bitches.

Blogs with Kick Ass URL's: ... that haven't been updated in years. They include... but are not limited to...

-Touchme.blogspot.com
-Blingbling.blogspot.com
-Fetus.blogspot.com
-Bitches.blogspot.com
-Canttouchthis.blogspot.com

Hmm... maybe that category isn't so vast as I originally thought... PLUS!!! deepfriedfetus.blogspot.com isn't taken... *mischievious grin*.

Foreign Languages: You'd think everyone would have learned to speak American by now. Geez...

So there you have it. A prime example of Lisa's attention span failing her before she can reach the end of a blogging. And now, I leave you with this tidbit that has absolutely nothing to do with my previous ramblings...

(David, Jordan, and Lisa are ambling around Hastings looking for the music to "Spamalot" and engaging in a much-need caffeine fix with mediocre coffee)

(Bubbly Blonde approaches)

Blubbly Blonde: (giggle) Excuse me. (giggle) I know this is a stupid question, but... do we live in Central America? (spew)

David: ... no.

Blubbly Blonde: Oh. Ok.

Lisa: (Pulls screwdriver out of purse) (Stabs self in ear)

Jordan: (Dances)

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

Damn. Summer is good.

Sleep. Flexible schedule. More sleep. Forsaking hygiene for as long as you please. Wearing the same outfit for 72 hours straight. Sooooooooooooo good! (Note: For clarification on the significance of the this phrase, I highly suggest that you look into the esteemed Teen Girl Squad. It will make you yearn for the status of pre-pubescent female.)

New Coldplay Album!!!!!*jizz*... in my hand!!!! (Wow. That didn't come out like I wanted it to [Oh GOD! the puns.]) Thought it was coming out at the end of June, but apparently it came out on Tuesday. Crazy Brits. Now all that's left to do is force David to listen to it all the way to and from the beach tomorrow... Hacha! Eardrums will bleed and sanity will be snatched... with stealth!

Economics class at the college is... interesting. I like this whole "college education" system... thing. A magical place where you can leave when the lesson is over and administrative officials aren't constantly breathing down the neck of the teacher. Plus, the professor is cleaner than a bottle of Pine-Sol. Which makes it that much better when I show up for class unshowered and in sweatpants and a tube top.

Right. So I need more music in my life. And I have no idea where to look. The radio is shit and most of my CD's are on the verge on disintegrating. So if anyone has any suggestions for kickass music *points to comments feature*. I'm open to almost anything (aside from the "stab your momma" rap genre and country) so leave a fucking comment you douche-cunt-tweezer-fondling-fuck-nut!

Thank you! Ü

... no comment.

Watching a bit of the telly last night (*bludgeons self to death for trying to be British*) my controller and I stumbled across the Discovery Channel's presentation of the 100 Greatest Americans. And betwixt the fistfuls of popcorn that I was shoving down my throat, I was vomitting... emotionally, psychologically, metaphorically... details are irrelevant. The point is the entire thing was krap... krap with a capital K... because I said so.

Here's just a smidgin'... a pinch... an inkling of the people whose greatness has molded our country and ingrained itself in our minds and hearts for all of eternity... in no particular order...

-Tom Cruise
-Bush^4 (George, Barbara, George W., and Laura)
-Barack Obama (who hasn't actually... done anything... yet... *ponder*)
-Jacko
-Colin Powell
-Donald Trump


wait... wait... it gets better!


-Madonna
-Condoleeza Rice
-Arnold Schwarzenegger
-John Edwards (who has done almost as much as Obama... pretty little bastard)
-Rush Limbaugh
-Michael Moore
-Dr. Phil

... because when I think of America, I think of bald men who exploit the emotions of lonely housewives for the sake of selling some bullshit self-help merchandise. Tally-ho!

Vacation... all I ever wanted...

Summer is ssssooooooooooo good. And I've decided to utilize my copius amounts of free time to take a break from humanity.

It's not that I don't love the company and delightful exploits that I get the privilege of encountering in my "social life"... but right now... at this point in my life... umm... I 'on't wanna (Pronounced: i-own-wana; Translation: I do not want to). I really do love most of the people I associate with, but right now I'm kinda in this phase where I feel capable of stabbing things. The words "gnashing teeth" comes to mind, but that's a whole 'nother story.

Call it PMS... call it the gurgling misanthropist within that has finally bubbled over... Don't worry. I'll be back someday.