Warning; this pOst may be extremely bitchy and appear much lOuder than it seems. Oh. and it makes nO sense.

just thought I’d share my diary entry with you tonight. if I had one it would sound something like this..  I have had a bottle lil wine to chillax.. so this could go anywhere. like a bisexual road trip to any city, USA.

Dear skanky catholic whore Diary;

I am NOT having a good night. I just ate a whole bag of Rolo’s. I don’t even LIKE the little bastards cute pieces of chocolaty capsules filled with creamy caramel that sticks to the roof of your mouth specially if you wear dentures. which I personally do not.

that’s just how sick my addiction with food, is. I need something, I need to fill the aching hole with something consisting of that which I do not know what it is.

my peeps in bloggy land have all given me such great advice and encouragement, I am trying REALLY hard to fart forget about everything that is stressful around me.. and let their words of wisdom sink into my soul, much like a powdered donut sinks into hot coffee when dunked.

I feel somewhat horny guilty that I am bitching here, despite their efforts. their words ARE getting through, I promise.. kinda like Bengay does when you rub it on your privates, I need to work through my anger first.

I am in the process of planning a few shanking's processing.. ya know, sort of like Velveeta cheese and that fake shit stuff in the can you squeeze on stale crackers, made from the bits in the bottom of a bird cage? I think there’re called Shitz cuz that’s what I get when I eat them Ritz?

I go for a few hours doing OK, then fuckmehard SPLAT! something reminds me of something and I get that ache in my gut and feel sick. I cannot see beyond my own breasts tomorrow, let alone next week.

I do not know that I will ever find a job, Dear triple nippled slut Diary… this Voc. Rehab. bitch ok lady, is taking her time leading me on until we are past my rehire date.. I am half expecting her to tell me to fuck piss off once it passes.

I have called a few people where I worked to ask if they charged much for sex were hiring as they are managers who can, they used to be friends of mine so I thought.. and although they promised to call me back ASAP, not one skanky slutty whore has returned my call. it’s been 2 weeks.

they can kiss my cellulitic but adorable ass buttocks as far as I am concerned. I gave them 10 years of service just to get vegetables inserted roughly into my rectum passed over now when I need my job the most.

I am getting hairier angrier by the minute as I write this. that might just be a good thing as my emotions are riding bicycles through deep puddles all over the place without helmets tonight.

bless Diane's smiling lil British tweekable nipples, she is doing everything possible to kill me encourage me and I must say that tonight I think she would be better off without me. I can’t possibly be making her happy right now. I can tell cuz she looks unhappy when I put bits in her morning cuppa’ I feel guilty as I have nuttin’ to give at the moment.

it takes all my flatulence energy just to breathe. and write. and poop. and pee.. let alone even THINK about kinky sex. yeah, Diane's on her own there, too.

where have I gone?

I am MISSING.

I can’t find who I used to be!

am I destined to be like a ugly worm precious butterfly growing in it’s cocoon only to emerge with pretty colors on me wings and fly over the meadows of spring enjoying the floating sensation on the cool breezes planning my grocery list in me head as I fly around peacefully only to suddenly be eaten by a hungry vulture and finally digested & eliminated by said vulture only to end up as fertilizer for the flowers in this spring meadow??? what’s the fucking point of that..?

well, Dear Stewie Diary, I might be in hiding. waiting for my buzz to wind down wounds to heal YEAH, MAN!!!! that feels about right!

yep I am in hiding. but I have just found myself, and I have just one question..

who the fuck heck is writing this post and how did she know my password?

I told you my emotions were all over the place… much like a pack of wild horses running, well, erm, all over the place.

thanks for listening, Dear Diary. you have been a real over charging whore friend tonight.

C