Monday, December 20
Damien's present came in the mail today. I absolutely love it. The way the package looked, I was thinking it would be a Guns n' Roses t-shirt. But when I opened it, something far better and more meaningful it came out to be, rather than a phony band tee. It's this awesome looking '70s style wool purse. No, not a fuckchop leather Chanel purse, when the word "purse " comes to your feeble dipshitted mind. Usually I'm not a bag person, for I'm one of those people who don't ever need to bring shit around, mostly because I can't afford any shit, and all I use is my pockets to store lunch money and a reminder note or some shit like that. But I fucking adore her gift, and can't wait to use it. Now I'm going to have to find shit to put in it. I have quite the uncontrollable urge to put pot in it, for it looks like the perfect bag for it, but I'm afraid my mother does not buy strong enough zip-lock bags to keep in the freshness. Since I was a kid and she packed my sandwiches and cookies into those shitty bags, they always stunk up the entire lunchbox and the entire one-foot radius of area surrounding the lunchbox. So pot isn't a good idea. This is going to have to be a new adaptation for me, because sometimes I really fucking hate bags that much that I don't even bring my backpack with all of my schoolbooks and crap like that on some occasions, mindless of how much work is due. But this thing is so awesome I'm willing to change.

Now when I wear pants that have no pockets I don't have to stick money in my shoe anymore. I feel sorry for a girl in my art class who was selling Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, because I had a dollar in my shoe for about two hours and it was soggy by then. I used it, which means she took and touched it with her own goddamn hand, so I could purchase some damn chocolate. Oh well, it's money.

Damien's gift also came with a Guns n' Roses pin. Even more awesomeness. Even the letter was awesome. It was sealed with this wax of some sort that was stamped with a peace sign, man. How fucking kick ass is that? Then I got sad because the seal started falling apart.

I had the most sensational day. Lauren got me Welcome to the Videos and a Nirvana poster and loved the Playboy candles I got her. Oh, the kinkyness. When I got home and made a sandwich, I immediately got to watching it. Then my mom had to be a bitch and told me to go do some work and get off of my shitty ass. And I have to say, that Izzy looks fabulous in "Sweet Child o' Mine" and "Paradise City."

But what surprised me, was when I finally get to watch a new episode of While You Were Out, it turned out to be a boring one. This was my downfall of the day.

This new layout totally kicks your saggy Axl ass. Craig Ross has the most gorgeous white man's fro ever to be maintained on this planet's gravitational pull. And for your information, he's the lead guitarist in Lenny Kravitz's band. Took me long enough to find out who he is, for I first fell in love with him from seeing the "Where Are We Runnin'?" video. He looked fucking hilarious when he collapsed from drinking or something. He pulled a Slash. Not to mention that they have similar hair though.

I'm still trying to figure out whether I like the song "Estranged" or not. In some ways it's really good and in some ways it sucks harder than a dehydrated three month old baby boy titfeeding from his mother, who also happens to be Pam Anderson.

Jackson Pollack is my new artistic hero. Not that I ever had one before. We got to pick what project we're doing next in my art class, and I chose to do one of those splatter-shit-all-over-the-canvas things he did. Not because it is easy shit and you could just dump paint all over it or either literally take a nice shit on it and consider it art, but I happen to find his work to be incredible. Fuck you if you think abstract art is just pus cummed onto paper, use your fucking imagination.

The problem is, mine looks totally pathetic. I started doing this weird black graffiti thing before splattering the red paint, and it literally looks like a mess. But not an aritistic mess; that's the problem.


Christina N. @ 8:13 PM