my girl. my blindside.

I want to say something about my sister. Because, well, because I never do. I don't like to talk about her because it seems cheap. but, please.
humor me.

I know, where you've gone I can't follow, I know.
I cry but it's all very, very selfish. I cry for everything I miss about you. For all my faults and all your mistakes. For all I adored in you. For the way I miss even the things I couldn't stand about you. Now that takes something, I'll tell you. Time heals nothing, (and that --I'll tell you for certain).

I miss telling you my secrets and agreeing on things no one else would. I miss your predictably corny jokes and ditzy laugh, your favorite songs that I couldn't bear to hear and the beautiful way you sang them. The way you copied how I drew my dead trees, my guitar and everything else I did -- only doing it better. I miss the way you cared so much but not how I cared so little. I miss the way you'd smile for our mutual benefit but not the way I'd play it down.

I miss running around our room in only our skins, you teaching me the fine art of somersaulting into bed, how you'd laugh till you were out of breath at my foolish stunts, and the way I'd do them again to see you keel over (even when it hurt). The way we curled up, side by side in bed, hands under each others' cheeks, when we had something really important to say. I miss the way people compared us but not the way I hated it. I miss saying sorry to you, I miss being wrong.

I miss screaming out our favorite songs in your dumb car, the one we'd fight over who would drive. Listening to box car racer on your cd player that never worked when I messed with it. Driving for hours in the pouring rain, with the radio on and laughing about our humiliations, our insecurities, and coming up with our own defense. Driving 90 mph the whole way back from Georgia in nothing but our underwear, sticking our tongues out at elderly citizens in their car-boats. I miss feeling like you were me.

I miss kissing you. I miss the the deals we made,(I'm keeping them, by the way), how I condescended towards you but wanted what you had. I miss you getting under my skin and the brilliant way we'd make up for when we were apart. I miss our inside jokes and how we'd overcompensate for our lacks, and dragging out the days. I miss you having my back and I, yours. We were invincible, weren't we?

For the life of me, I cannot remember what made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise.
For the life of me, I cannot believe we'd ever die for these sins. We were merely freshmen.

I could've made you better. I could've healed you. Given the chance I could have crawled inside you and pushed out all the evil, all the tubes, the pressure, the pain. Did you see me yelling? Did you see me fighting for you because, for once, you couldn't? Did you see me dying when you did? I curled up next to you like we always did, slipping a hand behind your neck, so familiar but you were a million miles away and a tear rolled down your cheek. It's because you knew i was there, right? I swear it was.

She was mine, I was hers. And there's nothing I could say that would make you understand.

and God knows I love you with all my heart.
I'm sorry.


Call me...whatever you want...but I think these are just sexy. Every man should own one....
And then send me pictures.


Insane Dreamers

"i live in a world of madness, where i alone am sane"
i have at last discovered what Cervantes meant when he wrote those words.
no wonder he fought windmills and imagined himself a knight. as i have learned from painful experience, the insanity of others has the power to push even a mentally sound person over the edge.
take for instince my roommate...a likeable young girl who's one peculiarity is that she believes her self to be a cow...that's right one of those black and white spotted creatures that produces milk.
or my kid brother...who dreams of someday becoming a ninja who will rule the world and all it's inhabitants. (starting with me i'll wager)
a next door neighbor who believes alians from the planet kryption could abduct him at any moment and so never leaves his bedroom except to bike to the library to check out the lastest version of "Kryption for dummies"
where do they come up with this stuff?
in all this i have begun to question my own sanity. perhaps i am the manic and they the genius.
maybe it is all a matter of what angle your viewing it from.
they say Edison was a idiot. called Ben Franklin a old fool. Columbus was grossly ridiculed for his "heretical" ideas. and all because they had vision to see beyond the confines of reason. and that's who history remembers. perhaps that is the ultimate reality.
next thing you know i may be the one jumping off a roof to learn how to fly, or scaling skyscrapers in my quest to be the next spiderwoman. the possiblitys are endless.

Silly Billy

I'm sugar rushing. I had ice-cream which just so happens to be one of my favorite things in the known world.

But that has nothing to do with anything.

Driving home today, it was dark, pouring rain. Miserable weather.
And coming down the last stretch to my house, I see, sitting craftily with his lights off: Mr.Police Man. WHAT!? Foolish people just kill me.
I can almost read his mind:
"Muahaha. Look at me and my crafty self. It's dark and pouring rain. I'll sit here next to this sharp curve and they'll never even see me till it's too late. I'll GET those pesky speeders now. Boy, the guys back at the precinct will just DIE with envy. It's tough being this clever AND goodlooking. I am an Officer of the LAW!"

Once again, as I do many times a day. I shake my head in wonderment, and step on the gas pedal.


Meet the Mom

today, as i lay lazily on my pillow in the middle of yet another, highly coveted mid-afternoon nap.
i hit upon a most unpleasent realization which sends me reeling. this is my discovery...bare with me.
just imagine for a moment that this blog, as it were, were my baby. and i, yes i...were it's mother. that would make me a negligent mother at best. people go to prison for that.
and i would never want it to be said that i, yes i...were anything but a doting, if somewhat eccentric mother.
and so in the midst of this stunning realization coupled with a slight twinge of regret for my former lack of concern. i have desided to become the best blog mom in the world.
i'll remember it's every birthday,
visit it not just on weekends
comment on it's accomplishments,
brag about it to all my friends
it shall be my pride and joy.
i bid fairwell to carefree days of youth and irresponciblity....welcome to parenthood.


I've had hair every color under the sun.


Blonde, Red, Orange-Orange, Blue, Pink, Green (looked moldy), Brown, and most recently -- black. I like to blame it on my artistic eccentricity. Oh, I even shaved it off once (interesting secret tidbit: I have a pink birthmark on the back of my head and going down my neck which is neat.)

I dyed it black a couple months ago on a whim which was a pretty brash move I realized later because as my blonde hair grew out...it had the effect of making me look like I was balding. (not cool, you say).

So I took matters into my own hands, yet again, and hacked it off. So for the curious, that's the short version of how I went from dark and sultry to small boy

I think I have mad hair cutting skilz



it's all the rage so go check out fallen captive from p.o.a. I wish the sound quality wasn't so cruddy but it's probably my favorite of their songs, and the guitar riff at the beginning is Glorious.
It tickles me in all the right places.

Mandibles of Death

I went to the dentist today. Being the ferocious ominvore that I am, it's of utmost importance that I keep my mandibles of death in top condition.

I'm brave. They prod and poke, scrape and grind -- filing my chompers to razorsharp points, the better suited to slice through shinbones....okay,okay! that's an exaggeration. I only nibble...

I've learned that i have palpable lymph nodes, a vascular upper palate, and I bite my cheek. I knew that already though, it's a thoughtful habit.

Chomp. Chomp.


Sex Appeal for Sale

Someone has a crush on me. Let me explain.

The closest store to our house is a Food Lion. And every so often, like this morning, I zip on down for emergency foodstuffs. Today, it was coffee, coffee and milk -- important breakfast items. (you nod your head sagely along with me).
Now, one of the cashiers at this store is a rather attractive young girl who we'll call Kathryn. Kind of a funky little thing, you know the type -- kohl-rimmed eyes, dyed black hair, white teeth. As fate would have it, I always somehow get her lane. She'll look down the aisle and catch my eye as I stand inconspicuously behind the magazine rack and flash me a dazzling grin. I'll smile back.
I really thought nothing of it.

A grey drizzly morn, I make my customary jaunt down. Deciding between Whole Grain or Raisin Wheat(good fiber), whole milk or 2%, I push my cart down. She's the only one working. We exchange the regular smiles, never quite making eye contact.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
I jerk my head up, "Sorry?"
She asks again, "Do you have a boyfriend?"
I chuckle nervously, "No, heh". Shifting awkwardly on my feet.
She continues scanning items then stops suddenly, looking me straight in the eye, "Do you want to go out sometime? I mean,(giggles) if you don't..um..heh..aren't like that..just pretty..don't want.. I don't know, do you?" She says in one breath.
I'm still not quite sure what she's getting at here but she sums it up with a, "I, like, like you."
I glance around to see if there were any other customers who witnessed this unusual exchange. Or an excuse, "Sorry, I'm holding up the line". No such luck.

So why is this? What stimulates attraction? A certain style of dress? A curve of the mouth? The set of the eyes?
Or is it a deeper, magenetic kindling of two souls, communicating with each other in high-pitched, frantic waves of emotion?
Whatever it is, I want to know. Can it be harnessed? Bottled? Sold? Could I possibly be a walking-talking-breathing Wealth of Sensuality? Beneath this dorky, orange-clad exterior -- could there lurk a Vixen Lizz?

Regrettably, I didn't know the answers at the crucial moment so I fell back on the clever line: "Uh, I'm, uh...uh..." Picked up my bags, turned my back and walked out into the rain.

Breaks my heart.

Sing for the Sorrow

One mad hipster...

Black and White

A tasteful nude.



You want to know about my day? I'll tell you about my day...regardless.
It's as if a star, a bright, shiny, twinkly, glorious star -- fell from heaven..and shat on my head.
Now what I did to deserve this celestial defecation I'm still trying to figure out and honestly, I'd tell you about it but it's just too painful right now. tick. tick. tick. tick. tick.

alright then, here goes:

I was unsuspecting enough, when the day started.
It seemed pretty standard...
The sun came up at it's usual hour, charging through the blinds like a water-buffalo through the rice patties. I lay there for a few moments, unsuspectingly enough. Wiggling my toes, squeezing my eyelids, savoring the last vestiges of my dream (a peculiarly interesting one about Killer Prune-Eating Weasels with Chainsaws, which impregnated me -- I'll get to that another time). I roll out of bed, crashing into the drumset which is carefully positioned so I can fully appreciate the early morning sound effect of body-hitting-cymbals.

Coffee is percolating merrily in it's pot..a good omen.
I look out the window at the bright blue sky, a yellow-bellied sapsucker hovers momentarily over the lawn and I smile to myself. "Yes. All is as it should be", say I, unsuspectingly enough.

No sooner, however, do I step out the door with my nefarious compadre, (names changed to protect the unsuspecting) *Fenwig*, than a dark cloud of gloom settles on my head and proceeds to beat the bajeesus out of me. Poor me. Poor, poor Fenwig.

The day still sparkles, the wind still blows soft breezes to tickle my skin, but still I slouch in the seat of the truck, arms crossed, eyebrows lowered, my gaze fixed on the far horizon, my mind a million miles away as the hapless Fenwig tries hoplessly to coax a smile from my glowering face.

To recount the events of the day would be too tedious and too grievous to recall, trust me when I say: it blew.

But finally, we come to the end of the Day That Never Ends. I slide out of the truck, bone-wearied,and dejected to stalk into the house, slamming my backpack onto my unsupecting bed.
It is then, and only tnen, that Fenwig's Mate (noble creature that she is) suggests that I might want to have a beer and some time alone in the Hot Tub to soothe my tattered nerves.
I did.

So here I sit, dear reader, to tell you of the Good that comes out of apparent Vile.

For one, I've I finished two paintings in one evening, I'll post them tomorrow when they've dried. And for seconds, I've had some mighty fine beer. In light of this I'll share with you a choice tidbit from the man, Dave Barry, who wrote:
"Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind is beer. Oh, I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza."
and with that I leave you, unsuspecting.
Good Night.


Education Essentials 101

I'm sure we've all wondered where toilet paper comes from (yes, even you -- somewhere in the dark recesses of your mind, on a rainy day, in between thoughts of uber cosmic relief and geosymetric equality). well, my friend, wonder no more.

Furthermore, for conspiracy-theorialists -- like the blue-haired punk i met on the greyhound bus...this one's for you.

Lastly, impress your friends with your extensive knowledge of phobias.

....I never knew I had Kakorrhaphiophobia.


Tetra Vaal

This is a spec commercial/corporate video created to put forth the idea of a robotic system of control that can function on its own, and make simple decisions. Shot in Johannesburg, South Africa, the eerie piece is designed to suggest the near future...worth watching.
Follow directions, it should only take a couple of secs to dl.

I'm not so sure I look forward to that.

Another day

there's words...i know. my mind never lies.
there's love...i hope. for what's a life without it?
there's dreams...i forget. begging to be recalled.
there's hate... always dormant. but i feel it just the same.
there's so many thoughts i think and never say.
if i could i would die and live another day.


Leap Froggin'

I was going through my old pictures today and happened upon these swell snapshots.
The story behind it is something like this:
About a year and half ago, me and my sister made a trek down to Georgia where we stayed on a true blue farm for a couple days.
I shot my first gun (knocked a beer can off a hay barrel -*spits*), went fishing for the first time in my life (i wasn't very successful), went on 2-hour horse back rides (humming the theme song from "Man from Snowy River" the ENTIRE time while imagining myself something of a wily ranger) -- and last but not least, playing leap frog.
Yup, certainly.
I'm a little hazy on how this particular game came about or why -- I'm pretty sure it had something to do with beer and an exuberant zest for life -- but whatEVER it was, I'm highly recommending it for your next friendly gathering of nearests and dearests..or heck! don't be exclusive, share the love with strangers on the street by leaping over their unsuspecing bare heads, include Them in your Fun, it might just give them that certain spring to their step. Sweet, huh?


i paint

this is an experiment in colors..never done before. she's flat


I Like Asians

What you are about to read are Actual subtitles used by Chinese in their films.
Damn it feels good to be a gansta....

I am damn unsatisfied to be killed in this way

Quiet or I'll blow your throat up

I'll fire aimlessly if you don't come out!

Beware! Your bones are going to be disconnected

Fatty, you with your thick face have hurt my instep

Same old rules: no eyes, no groin

Take my advice, or I'll spank you without pants

Who gave you the nerve to get killed here?

You always use violence. I should've ordered glutinous rice chicken

You daring lousy guy

Beat him out of recognizable shape!

I have been scared shitless too much lately

I got knife scars more than the number of your leg's hair!

The bullets inside are very hot. Why do I feel so cold?

How can you use my intestines as a gift?

This will be of fine service for you, you bag of the scum

I am sure you will not mind that I remove your manhoods and leave them out on the dessert

I have captured you by the short rabbits and can now deliver you violently to your gynaecologist for a thorough extermination

Greetings, large black person

Let us not forget to form a team up together and go into the country to inflict the pain of our karate feets on some ass of the giant lizard person


The real Valentine.

Today I heard the true story of how valentines' day actually came about. This is the basic jist of it...

"Under the rule of Emperor Claudius II Rome was involved in many bloody and unpopular campaigns. Claudius the Cruel was having a difficult time getting soldiers to join his military leagues. He believed that the reason was that roman men did not want to leave their loves or families.
As a result, Claudius cancelled all marriages and engagements in
Rome. The good Saint Valentine was a priest at Rome in the days of Claudius II. He and Saint Marius aided the Christian martyrs and secretly married couples, and for this deed Saint Valentine was apprehended and dragged before the Prefect of Rome, who condemned him to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head cut off.
He suffered martyrdom on the 14th day of February, about the year 270. While in jail, awating his fate, he became aquainted with the jailers daughter and fell in love with her, the night before his death, he wrote his last letter to her, it was signed, "from your valentine". Thus, the custom of valentines and valentines' day."

It's a pretty neat story. Though I wonder how the whole "chocolate" thing came about. (Not that I mind.)

Painful Reality

it's 7:30am, V-day. the day i spent 364 days promising myself to not be a repeat of last year.
if i kills me i will smile and pertend like i have men knocking down the doors to reach me.
i'll raise my head higher then the empire state buliding and act like the world's at my feet.
i'll look everyone i pass on the street in the eye as if i were queen and they but humble subjects.
i'll be giddy and romantic....it's valentines day after all.
i'll flirt and captivate all who look my way.
i'm young, i'm alive and fancy free....the world is mine.

it's 7:31am, D-day...wake up.

"Thou art to me a delicious torment..."

Wishing you a grand Valentine's day because it IS one of the nobler holidays. One of the few I don't mind celebrating...I think we all are blessed to have love in our lives in overabundance, one way or another.
May you always be loved, may you score.. and if not this year, may you have better luck next time

"To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart, and to sing it to them when they have forgotten." - Anonymous

obligatory. token.

a slow strangle with feet my on the floor
i've got 14 angels and we're sleeping alone
in the back of a cave,
where the rest of us go
to feel normal

i call baby up.
leave me alone.
i'm in pain but i won't
let you bandaid my wound
i am not at a point where
i can't even handle my own

give me a quiet mind and i
I love you
you give me a quiet mind and i
I love you

until the end

give me strength
to be kind
to combine
all the good things
in life that were
so hard to find
but i have and i won't
let them go like i do
with my friends

still hearing voices
from front
from behind
they're the reasons I choose
when to live
how to die
when to cast
when to reel
when to buy
when to steal
when to fiend for the friends
that taught me
being inappropriate will

give me a quiet mind and i
I love you
you give me a quiet mind and i
I love you

till the end.


hehe..i couldn't help it.

for you.

What did you do today to save a soul?

(Book excerpt from National Bestseller: Any Given Day in the Life of Girl-Star-Child Lizz de Gaalon)
[warning: contains material that could offend. NOT for the faint of heart]

....the house was quiet after the Mother and Father left. Too quiet. I hope it doesn't stay like this the whole week they're gone.

"I'm sure I can handle things." I had so confidently assured them.

Now I'm having second thoughts. A dark premontion settles over me.

Maybe it's the sight of one of the children trying to ride the family Labrador like a quarter-machine at the local Food Lion, pummeling it's flanks and pulling out fistfuls of fur.

Maybe it's the hysterical giggling emanating from the Pre-Adolescent(Ditzy)youngster as she chats with her pre-adolescent menfriends(Creeps). --ps. if you're reading this, watch yourself.

Could be the house in post-war dissarray, the pizza burning in the oven....no, it's nothing.
Just nerves.

Suddenly, my ears prick up (yes, they do that)as I catch a faint, yet poignant whiff of fresh feces. All 5 of my keenly honed senses immediately spring into action as I see, taste, touch, hear and smell my way down the hall.

The stench is stronger now, permeating, pungent, pervasive. My eyes water, I begin to feel faint. I stumble on. Bravely. Determined to find and abolish this unwelcome stench. Dreading what I may find.

I see now the trail of the miscreant...little droppings...like breadcrumbs (only, SO SO not) leading me Straight to the scene of the crime.

There I'm confronted with (name changed to protect identity)Little Larry Looseguts trying to erase the evidence of his mishap off the seat and sides of our toilet with..

My Bath Towel.

Words cannot describe, so they won't.

(stay tuned for: "The Adventures of the Severed-Thumb")


of shirts and plugs..

I came across these amusing t-shirt designs...the last one being my favorite.

and speaking of shirt designs there's some pretty righteous ones here courtesy of Jeremy Yamaguchi and Plan of Attack. yay!



I've been thinking much the past couple weeks. Thousands of thoughts and emotions have crossed and recrossed through my head. Some flitting in for only minutes, some lasting hours, some days..some making themselves a home in my head.
I've sat back and wandered, a myriad of trails, I can trace them beginning to end like tracks in a deep forest. It seems my brain is always ticking, I can't remember it being silent. Even in sleep, I'm barraged by experiences, feelings, options.

So I'm going to rant:)

Foremost, I'm going to talk about the "news item".
The first and briefest reaction I had was one of stunned interest. Admittedly, I wanted to know more --and the details.
Secondly, I felt fear. A strong, tangible fear of being alone. (I was alone.)
Thirdly, and most pronounced, it was replaced by anger. Anger that I should be made to feel feer. Anger that I should feel fear because of my lifes' beliefs. And anger that anyone would Dare threaten my family and those I love.

So, I sought solace in knowledge. I researched everything and anything I could on the subject. I looked for reasons, the hidden psyche, the simple solution.
I searched for something I could touch, I could explain, I could defend. What I found was two sides of a coin, the same coin. I found the familiar and I found the fairy tale. I found questions, reasons, love, hate, malignment, and verity. I found the down-and-dirty scoop, and the glossy flowers-and-rainbows.
I found nothing.

And then I looked deeper. I looked at myself.

I delved within my heart. My faith if you will. Faith is a term, widely used and widely understated. It means a confident belief in the truth, value or trustworthiness of a person, thing, or in my case - an idea. And the irrevocable conclusion I've come to is: (and I don't think you'd expect less of me) that I am so, so proud of what I live for. Where I stand, by the grace of God, I can do no other.
And that's what it boils down to, isn't it? The grace of God? It's what everyone's going to have to be subject to, and at least I'll know I strove for the highest I knew.

Sorry. That was my rant.

I liked This


Sugar Cane

One uneventful W&R night, a lone figure creeps into the kitchen.. she quietly opens the fridge, careful not to alert anyone to her presence, her eyes scan the contents of the fridge, boiled eggs from breakfast, a "do not disturb" sign on some slimy looking science project, a few spinach leaves sitting at the bottom of a drawer, she sighs, looking one last time, and then....her eyes spot it...yes boys and girls, the coveted treat of all cubans everywhere...SUGAR CANE!!! She gives a hasty glance around her, and snatches it faster than you can say "flying bob". and she's off to her room. she sits quietly on her bed, munching her stolen treasure, and then she hears it...footsteps...now everybody knows that hiding a long stick of sugar cane is not quite as easy as quickly pulling your hands out of your pants, Unlucky thief. Her eyes widen in horror, shoving the now half chewed sticky stalk under her blanket in hasty desperation, the figure walks in the room spotting the lone figure sitting quietly on her bed, her badly lying eyes pleading guilty. Her mouth full of stolen booty. Unlucky thief.

Everybody loves sugar cane.
that reminds me of the time the guys in my home made wine from all these grapes we got in the provisioning. sadly though, they forgot to thoroughly wash out the bucket which had previously served as a laundry detergent container.
needless to say...it had that grainy soap taste that remains in your mouth for days afterwords and brings back painful memories of the time Auntie Hepsiba washed out your mouth with soap because you forgot to take her favorite pair of red underwear off the line when it was raining and as a result they were washed away and never heard of again.
yes it was a sad day for all...seeing as they were a valentines gift from her late husband, Uncle Frankinstine...who i believe got them at a increadible sale at Goodwill for which he had to stand in line for four hours in the snow and later contracted tripple pneumonia from which he never recovered.
all i can say is good riddance to bad rubbish (the underwear i mean...not Uncle Franky)
now how i got from red wine to red underwear i'll never know...oh well it's party time...GO PATRIOTS!!!! --Anita


Drunk? I don't think so...

On the topic of homemade beer. A friend of mine once tried to "brew his own juice" so to speak. It sat faithfully fermenting in our laundry room for over 3 months. We opened it around the 3 1/2 month period. It was so strong we could get drunk smelling it. He was completely thrilled. Until someone threw it out, mistaking it for rotten veggies.
Fancy that.


yes, my friend. As we speak/type I have a dozensome bottles of homemade ale sitting in a darkened closet just merrily fermenting away in anticipation of Super Bowl tomorrow. We've started a micro-brewery and so far this is our second batch. It really is quite an art. From sanitizing, boiling, adding, experimenting, TASTING....it's enough to make you thirsty.

Technically, you're supposed to use malt in your beer-making but coincidentally we had just acquired about 25 jars of sorghum (uh, kinda like molasses...but grosser) and in tasting the malt realized that the flavors were similar and so decided to experiment. So yea, I suppose it's really kind of a molasses beer..heh, heh.
Who cares it's beer!

"May you have the health of a salmon
A strong heart, and a wet mouth."



do you ever have those moments where you find yourself wondering what your purpose is in life?
why, out of the millions of people your you and not somebody else?
do you ever count the little holes on your cealing in a desperate attempt to forget about everything?
do you ever waste the hours away talking to yourself for lack of something better to do?
You do?
Dude you got issues....i would recomend some serious profesional help.

This isn't gonna be about my life or something like it...this is my away-from-thinking- place...this is my sanctuary. it's here and only here i can speak my mind and take no prisoners. so try to bare with me.

future disclaimer: all names, dates and happenings are largely fitious and deviously twisted truths as seen from my unique perspective.
i make no apoligies. i accept none.


Those who have seen your face draw back in fear

This weekend I saw the Phantom of the Opera. To be honest I had only a vague knowledge of the storyline but was pleasantly surprised. The music was pretty darn good(so there, Sue), the idea was grand and half way through the movie I found myself totally rooting for the Phantom.
Maybe because I've always liked the underdog. Maybe it was because the "hero" was a wussy boy. Maybe it was because the Phantom cried alot.
Real men cry.