BITCH.SKILLS


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JANUARY'S WACKY HOT-SPOTS
     
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Nobody gets out of the Bermuda Triangle. Not even for lunch.

January 30th, 2004 12:55pm

* SNEAK PREVIEW *

wonderin' what happened in Philly?

so are we...









get your Valentines here!


Thursday, January 29th, 2004, 10:18am

WHERE'S THE BITCH?

one might think that if my domain name was about to expire, i'd get a friendly little email from tripod saying, "hey, your domain name is about to expire," but no, one day i try to log on and the bitch is gone... then i get an email form a friend saying, "hey why is the bitch gone?" so that justified the idea that the bitch really was gone. so im in the process of renewing, and in the meantime, you can access this page via http://monkeyflappa.tripod.com/crazyass.html. So sorry for the hassle, folks. Trust me - heads are gonna roll. (that's me pretending i'm a badass.)

I am fully aware that maybe about half of you could care less, but i do know of a few dear friends (griff) who actually could die if not able to read my Crap of the Day. Ok, thats an elaboration - he's not that obsessive, but he often expresses how fucking GREAT he thinks i am via reading my Crap of the Day. So thank you, Griff, for that, and for also bringing me down to planet earth here and there. It's much needed sometimes, and you're always right. Did the dingos eat your Orchids?

But, to all others who may have been wondering where the bitch has been, no worries - you havent missed much. Well, except for the fact that i now have a huge hole in my head and i'm really pissed:

thanks jon - you're brilliant.
(this guy makes me wish i was a whole lot funnier)

So with Valentine's Day creeping up on us all like a bad case of SARS, i'm doing my part to promote this irritating, commercialized, puke-inducing holiday via Bitter Greetings, Ltd. Give me another day or two, and all y'all will have a plethora of options to express how you really feel about everyone else who thinks Valentine's Day is the "Best Holiday Ever." (FYI: I was unable to renew my contract with Bounty-Hunters-a-Rama after last year's fiasco, which is just as well - i still have one more court date. But a big holler out to all my peeps who testified in my defense.)

So I actually have real work to do this week, which means back to acting like a grown-up. Which means showering and wearing shirts that dont say "fuck." So I'm signin off for now.

Peace out little homies.




Ummm...

i'm not sure if it's because i'm drinkin...

...or if I'm legitimately in awe of this classified ad, but i seriously think it's the most bizarre thing i've ever seen for sale... well... ever...

MEDELA PUMP IN STYLE TRAVELER BREASTPUMP



Monday, January 26th, 2004, 7:55pm

WHAT'S THE DEAL FOLKS?

Why is everybody I know either getting married or quitting drinking?

It fucking blows my mind. And while I'm siked and happy for my friends who are making these major changes in their lives, it pisses me off because it also reinforces the idea that I DO NOT BELONG ON THIS PLANET. It reinforces the negative. The fact that I am never in the right place at the right time and that my stupid fucking thoughts control my destiny. I'm not being one of those Biological-Clock-Ticking-Chicks who's out SEARCHING for The One. Seriously. All I want is to meet a guy who will respect who I am and not carry with him so much emotional baggage that there's not any room in his life for someone else.

But I seem to attract emotional baggage. And don't get me wrong, SOME baggage is fine, its normal, it's expected. But, due to the fact that somewhere along the line I perfected some irritating, unconscious "All or Nothing" mindset, I have become the airport carousel for people who overpack.

And as for the alcohol, I mean, okay, i KNOW i need to quit drinking. I really should, because it's the alcohol that exacerbates the previously stated reinforcement. But at the same time, it's the ony thing that gets me through shit like the fact that EVERYONE I KNOW IS GETTING MARRIED.

But enough with that. I had this dream last night that I had a prosthetic leg. The weird part, was that I didn't know I had a prosthetic leg. But I was trying on clothes somewhere, and I took off my pants, and WHOA! Prosthetic leg! And I immediately knew (as we all have that convenient omniscient quality in our dreams) that the reason I had this prosthetic leg, was because I had had no control over "self-mutilation." I had gouged out chunks of leg-flesh witrh razor blades for so long that I eventually had no leg left, so the doctors gave me a fake one.

And when I woke up, I was drenched in sweat. So much sweat, that I had to get up and change my clothes because, I mean, how comfortable are wet clothes?

The disturbing part of the whole thing was thinking about the dream later. It's been a while since I've cut myself. Long enough where I figured it was out of my system, out of my mind...

Apparently, it isnt quite out of my mind... At least not today...



Monday, January 26th, 2004, 4:11pm

ROAD TO RECOVERY

I survived. Not that I thought I wouldn't, but as I once mentioned, its always best not to assume...

So yeah, Philly was a blur of beer, punk rock and deformed fetuses. "Deformed fetuses?" you ask... Yes, the Mutter Museum (put two little German dots over the 'u' in 'Mutter') at the College of Physicians was the most disturbing site of legitimate history I've ever seen. From the Infection Section to the Big Colon, after about 20 minutes I was phisically having a difficult time swallowing. The saliva just kept building up in my mouth because I was sure that if i swallowed I'd be able to taste gangrene and leprosy. Even speaking about it now, that's all I'm able to say, so for a taste of the experience (no pun intended) just click on the Big Colon.

the hangout.

Oh, and a quick apology for the bad serial killer links. I changed the name of my shop and forgot to change my linkage, but it's all set. So try it again. Go ahead... Buy a shirt.

More later folks. I kinda feel like I'm gonna puke...

send your valentine some fat this year!


Friday, January 23rd, 2004, 6:50am

ROAD TRIP

Well, the next 3 days hold a frightening amount of The Unknown. But frightening in a good way. And I need it. I havent worked at all this week, so the insomnia has taken over. I at least figured that out. The more stagnant my days, the more manic I become. And that kinda sucks, because I was always looking forward to retirement...

Up at 3am yesterday, 5am today. I consider that sleeping in. But I havent even packed yet. No, I take that back. I've selected what I'm bringing, I just need to put it in a bag. Why that task is so complicated I'll never know. (It took me 3 hours to finally focus on picking out underwear and t-shirts for two days...) But whatever. I consider it the "free-spirited-ness" in me. My mother and doctors would tend to disagree, but whatever helps me sleep at night, right?

Wait a minute... I haven't been sleeping...

But I gotta run. Wish me luck and wish me sanity, cuz one never knows what will happen when you hang out with the Murder Junkies...

A Special Thanks to Cindy Moudy for Purchasing FOUR of my Bitch T-Shirts! I Always Knew You Were the Smart One!

the hangout.the other hangouthank has gotten fed up with waiting to be fed, so he does it himselflenny finds comfort in the most unusual places...
yeah, okay, i'm well on my way to being a "cat lady," but you gotta admit, these guys are funny...


Wednesday, January 21st, 2004, 11:28am

AND THANK GOD...

...because I'm starting to feel really creepy. It's like I can feel it on my skin. Like I've been somewhere I hated being. Like the orthodontist. Or at a friend's house while waiting for my mom to pick me up because I got in trouble for hitting my friend's little brother. I've spent since 6pm Sunday night absorbed with this serial killer shit. It's a good thing and a bad thing. Good, because I was actually creating what's considered "Art," (as sick and twisted as it is, it's still art.) Bad, because I've been in the midst of a manic phase, so only about 6 of the last 60 hours was spent sleeping.

So, what's that... 54 nearly-consecutive hours researching mutilation, sodomy and cannibalism.

So yeah, I'm feeling a little funky.

But Phase One is COMPLETE! (Every four serial killers is a "Phase." Just so y'all know...) My shit is for SALE people! So buy it out before I get in trouble for copyright infringement or something. And then, if i do get in trouble and get shut down, and you have one of my Charles Manson posters hanging on your wall, well then, consider it a collector's item. Like a Limited Edition - only 50 created!

Okay, highly unlikely... But at least check it out. Because one day, when I AM famous, whether it be for becoming the WalMart of painted toilet seats or slicing someone's throat and chewing on their aorta, you'll be glad you did.

I have to get away from my computer. Go play with puppies or something...



Sunday, January 18th, 2004, 9:32pm

ADDENDUM

i went to the mall yesterday...

I haven't been to the mall in forever. I hate the mall. Why did I go? Because I had to get my haircut. And while I was there I figured I'd stop in at an over-priced store I refuse to mention I shop at and pick up some clearance t-shirts.

And there he was. Standing in line at Sears.

The guy that broke my heart too many times. the one I kept going back to because I thought he was the love of my life. The one that, I know, if i had the opportunity, and I was sure I was better, I'd probably go back to again.

And it went like this: I walked in, I saw him standing there, he looked at me, I looked aay, and acted like I hadn't seen him at all...

Which, to me, made me think, "maybe I wouldn't go back..." Because I never gave it a second thought until now...

I'm just tired of being disposable. Tired of being tossed aside because I'm too much trouble... Tired of waking up every day because I know every day is going to be the same as yesterday...

God damn fucking tired...



Sunday, January 18th, 2004, 9:02pm

AN EVENING WITH RUMPLEMINTZ

What is fucking wrong with people?

I'm walking to Richdale's, because I needed smokes and peanut butter, and just at about the halfway point is a payphone. There's a woman talking on the phone, and with her is a boy, maybe 10 years old, maybe twelve, i dunno - i suck when it comes to estimating age. As I'm walking by, the kid says hello, I say hello back, and keep walking. I barely overhear the woman talking on the phone, but from what I could gather, she was pissed. Something wasn't going her way.

On my way back, I walk past them again. This time, the boy says nothing. Just as They're out of my peripheral vision, I hear the woman on the phone say to whoever she's speaking to: "You're a self-absorbed, selfish cunt. I'm standing here with a kid that got yanked out of my vagina - " At this point, I heard the boy giggle at the mention of the word "vagina." But what I'm thinking, is who says the word "cunt" in front of their kid?

I mean, okay, I'm not the most responsible person in the world, AND I've been doing shots of rumplemintz for the last 45 minutes, but even in this state of mind, I'm still conscious of how and when I use the word "cunt." It just blows my mind, dude. The fact that the kid giggles at "vagina..."

So Charlize Theron was on "Inside the Actor's Studio" tonight, and something happened that confused the hell out of me: I could have sworn that I'd read somewhere that, at a very young age, she'd witnessed her father kill her mother. This impressed me in a sick sense, because it's kind of rare that you hear someone see something like that and come out on top of their game. But I'm watching the show, and her mother is sitting in the audience. and its not an old episode, because she talked about "monster," which is the whole reason I sat and watched it in the first place. If anyone has any info on this, please let me know.

In other news, I'm driving to Philly with Robyn this coming weekend. Small road trip. We're going here and possibly hanging with Merle. Robyn has all the connections, I'm just along for the ride.

And something has to be done about my inability to have friends that I haven't had sex with. Right now, Robyn's the only one (sorry guys.) There's no regret - there's just the consistent slamming into my face the fact that I think I need to be naked to be important.



Friday, January 16th, 2004, 1:03am

the reason boston might think i'm a lesbian.

and another...



Wednesday, January 14th, 2004, 9:44pm

I am fucking exhausted.

Ive done 10 massages in the lst few days. Doesnt seem like a lot, but oh it is.

So tonight, I drink.

And I watch my Sex Hygiene Scare Film.

Maybe it'll shove some intelligence into my brain.

Take that as you will.


just like elementary school. but with beer.



Tuesday, January 13th, 2004, 3:01am

yeah okay im lit. but im still in tha happy phase of lit. and not necessarily the spelling phase of lit. so i apologize ahead of time. like anyone really cares.

so yeah i was borderline panic attack for no reason so decoied, "theres still tequila around." yeah well tequila ran out fast so i turned to butter shots, which are gosser thsn gross, but all i had. and i needed t continue on my misson of complete and utter oblivion.

and im so there.

Interesting topic actually - which obviously would have made more logioc sense before i started boozin it up - the "No Strings Attached" relationship. #1 - can it eally be called a relationship. i mean, yes, as it refers to a relationship with a specific person, but it sure aint a relationship in the "relationship" sense of the term. but when both people agree that its cool the way it is, then theres no problem, really.

until one of the two involved in the non-committed suddenly becomes co mmited to someone outside of this realm.

and for most lucky people. this is bound to happen. but my curiosity leans more toward the person left behind. mostly because this is me in this particular situation. i am never the person "chosen." which, at this point, i have completely accepted. but how does one deal wih the jealousy? all of a sudden, i dont serve that one secific purpose that made me "special." someone else has filled in the blank. which, in itself, the terminology i use doesnt sit well because i dont enjoy bing considered a "blank." but im sure you getr my drift. (aplogies for secere typos, by the way.)

my conclusion = i need to get the fuck out of here and start oer somewhere else. but the part of me that hates to be rghrt knows that ill juxt fin myself in the exact same situation but in a different geographicsl location.

okay folks - the bitch is drunk. jst let her spew her brain matter and thenwe can all return to our regularly scheduled programming.


this probly hurt like a motherfucker.



Monday, January 12th, 2004, 9:48pm

I actually went out and socialized last night.

It's been a long time. I almost forgot how. But then the beer started getting drunk and it all came back to me. But it was a good time - i'm glad I went, because the more i stay holed up in my apartment, the easier it is to keep staying holed up. And i aint no holy roller.

I'm slightly out of it because my blood sugar is low. But no worries, ladies and gents, for there's a Healthy Choice Flavor Adventure cooling in the microwave. A flavor adventure... I wonder if its gonna be like an Indiana Jones adventure... Or just an adventure because it's somehting other than Cheerios. I'm bettin on the latter.

So unfortunately, I had about a million things to write about earlier, but now that i'm here, all i can think about is that it's finally warmer than 2 degrees without wind-chill here in Boston. It's actually 30 degrees tonight. Fuckin heat wave... It has been so painfully cold that i seriously thought i was slowly freezing to death in my apt. Or at least suffering from hypothermia (i have weak windows.) the one good thing about the cold tho, is that the meter maids havent been out to ticket my car for parking on the street overnight. i went this whole week without getting a ticket. thats like some kinda major feat these days. i should quit while i'm ahead. i say that, but i'm parked out front.

So the Eeny Meeny Miney Mo section (directly to your left, folks) has a bunch of new links. I was inspired to rev up the wacky linkage after getting this in an email:

I hope you're well - it seems that you are fast becoming "my friend who has all kinds of fascinating links."

"These connections," people will ask, "are they underground?"

"Well," I'll respond, "... is there any such thing anymore?"

"Yes." They'll say, definitively. "As long as there is an authoritarian establishment of oligarchical power-brokers, there will be an underground." I will pause to consider this point.

"You'd have to ask my friend who has all kinds of fascinating connections," I'll answer.

I'm not sure what all those words mean, but they sound witty and amusing. I took them as compliment. If I'm wrong, someone please let me know.

Let the adventure begin...


coming soon - the worst album covers ever.



Thursday, January 8th, 2004, 10:23pm

Not much goin on the last few days, although here's a funny story...

Before I left Baltimore, I started maniacally designing these t-shirts to sell on CafePress.com. It's basically a way to open your own shop for free - they make things as they're ordered, you make commission if someone orders something you've designed. In order to make any money off it tho you really have to bust ass promoting your shop, which I got lazy about and so therefore, over the last few months, I pretty much fogot about the whole thing (except when they would send me an email saying my credit card was declined and they needed a new form of payment to keep my shop open. So okay, it's not entirely free - its $6.95 a month. But I digress...)

Recently - i'd say like 2 weeks ago, I decided to try to revamp my shop. If I'm payin the 7 bucks to keep it open each month, I may as well put that money to good use. (7 bucks...) So I sign in, and for shits and giggles, I decide to see if i made any commission. (aka. "Has anyone seen how talented I am?" "Does anyone care?" etc...)

To my complete SHOCK, I see that I've made 5 dollars... So I go into wherever I go to see what was bought. One chick bought one of my chinese fortune t-shirts (the lamest one, in my opinion, but still, she liked it.) And some girl in Japan bought one of my BeatMyGuest t-shirts...

The Spanish one...

Otherwise known as the one where I incorporated a photo of myself in which I'm holding my own boobs...

This makes me laugh. Somewhere in Japan (and Japan is a pretty big place) there's some japanese girl walking around in a t-shirt that's a picture of me holding my own boobs.

I freakin LOVE that country.

me holding my own boobs.
click for larger image, perverts



Monday, January 5th, 2004, 11:16pm

Opens January 9th

So I'm on my way to Robyn's house, hitting every single red light in Boston.

While sitting at the 11th one, the DJ on FNX starts talking about the movie that was coming out about the Florida prostitue serial killer who was executed last October. Now, of course, the second I hear the words "serial killer" i tune in - something fascinates me about the whole serial killer culture, if you can call it that. So they were giving away tickets to the private screening of "Monster" showing at the Kendall Cinema.

Now if I begin this paragraph by explaining how often I win things, you'll already know the outcome of this entry. But hey, I just did it anyway. So I call - not because I felt I absolutely NEEDED to see this film, but because I was bored being stuck in traffic.

And whaddaya know...

I won tickets.

All I can say about the film right now, is that it was the most amazing fucking thing I've seen since Hilary Swank played Brandon Teena in "Boys Don't Cry." I can't get over it. Charlize Theron is one of my favorites, but I have never seen her like this before. "Impressed" is not the word. "Amazement" doesn't even work. And the fact that I can't stand how I'm sounding like a newspaper movie critic right now urges me to just leave it at that.

You have to just see it. Its one of those things thats gonna be in my head for a long time. And the sick and twisted part of me doesnt ever want to let it go.



CHECK IT OUT! I'M A GOOGLE SEARCH!!



Monday, January 5th, 2004, 12:05am

Not to sound pathetic, but I only say that because I know it is,,,

Sign my guestbook? Please? Let me know i'm not sitting in my kitchen all alone... Thank you.



Sunday, January 4th, 2004, 11:25pm

Jesus Christ...

What Natural Disaster are you? Take the quiz!

So bill has consistently hinted about me bartending at Max's this summer, which I really would love to do, but never saw the plausibility in it - until tonight. He mentioned it again, and it made me sad, because i've been so fucking depressed since I've come back - i just want to be there with the people and the feeling and the job, and so i realized: my initial decision to move to baltimore was on a whim, so why shouldn't i "whim" my way back? So i said yeah. yeah I'll fuckin do it - sign me up. I have no idea how the technicalities are gonna work, but i didnt two years ago either, and it turned out to be one of the better decisions i'd made.

Shortly thereafter saying yes, however, i felt borderline panic attack. My solution? The tequila in my bottom cabninet.

yeah im lit again. applied for a few jobs, thought I could write an insiteful entry. I should quit while im ahead - i keep doin shots of tequila straight from the bottle.

I may have a drinking problem.

Whats all y'all's thoughts on that?.

Down the hatch...

according to this quiz I am definately an alcholic.

That's just terrific. But moreso than that - it's a valid excuse as to why I seem to fuck everything up.

and right now, 98% of me is completely okay with that.



Friday, January 2nd, 2004, 10:35pm

Jesus Christ...

I'm not even gonna say it...

Although I will say one thing - regarding my effervescent wit when I apply for jobs online when I've been drinking - I got an audition. I'm not really sure what it's for but I have to imitate Lara Croft. And since I do that all the time I should be in like Flynn. My cats think I'm British.

On a positive note, I got this feeling today at work - I actually Felt like I was a massage therapist. I mean, I AM one, but today I was overcome with this sense that I reached a point where, when people ask me what I do for a living, I can now say, "I'm a Massage Therapist," rather than, "I scream until I get what I want." It's one of those feelings that I thought I knew, but now that I've felt it, I've realized I never really knew what it felt like before. Okay, that sentence made sense in my head, I swear to God...

It amuses me when I think about it. I mean, I have a job that requires everyone but myself to strip naked. If someone falls asleep on me, it's considered a compliment rather than insulting. I don't have to wear shoes. And the toughest part is when the room gets too hot and the lotion gets slimy. No, wait, I take that back. The toughest part is when guys come in and think I'm there to jack them off, but even then, I have the upper hand (heh - no pun intended) because I'm clothed and they're not. If someone pisses me off, I don't have to finish my job. It's actually EXPECTED that I walk out. What other job lets you do that?

Anyway - I was all gung-ho to do a "2003 Recap" but that involves sitting down and trying to think of everything that's happened in the last year, and by the time I actually do that it'll be February and then that's just dumb.

Let's just say: 2003 - I didn't die.

And leave it at that.



Wednesday, January 1st, 2004, 12:13pm (rabbit rabbit)

Yup. Drunk again. Posting on Craig's List. Refraining from making phone calls. Good thing/Bad thing, fuck it. It feels GREAT not to care.

I'm miserable, there is no hope for any happiness in my future, yet the funny thing is, I don't think I'd know what would make me happy if it was sitting on my face and taking a shit.

Okay, yeah, that's really fucking gross, but thats what Sutter Home Chardonnay will do to one who lives on cereal and cigarettes. Although it does make me much more witty when applying for jobs online. And besides the resume, wit is a fabulous hook.

God - 2004. It has to be better than 2003. and 2002... okay - let's put it this way: things started turning to shit somewhere around 1982. I guess the only way to go is up. and if it doesnt go up, well then it'll be nothing that i'm not used to.

This is not a pity entry - no-siree Bob. In fact, when I read this tomorrow I bet I'll come pretty close to deleting it. But on the other hand, i'm fucking sick of pretending to be something that i'm not. And what I am, when I'm drunk, is pathetic. So LOOK AT ME EVERYONE!! NO SECRETS HERE!! You get what you pay for. Flaws up front. No returns. you get what you pay for. And as incapacitated as I may think I am, I am still aware of typos. That's gotta be the OCD...

But thank God for Sutter Home. Because as I write this, Im smiling...


Mik Wright




     
BITCHES

KICKED OUT OF THE WEBELOS

This is something no one knows.
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Do you think it really shows?
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Punched her in her snotty nose.
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Daddy beat me with a hose.
Kicked out of the Webelos.

Well, I guess that's the way it goes.
Kicked out of the Webelos, go!

This is something no one knows.
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Do you think it really shows?
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Punched her in her snotty nose.
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Daddy beat me with a hose.
Kicked out of the Webelos.

Well, I guess that's the way it goes.
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Kicked out of the Webelos.
Out of the Webelos.

(true story)






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Would life be simpler if we could settle adult disputes the same way we did when we were kids - by "calling it," by pushing and shoving (but never really seriously injuring,) and by invoking the "no give-backs" rule?