We really didn't have Christmas this year. I did get that German diplomat training thing I wanted, but with my aunt dying,
it's kind of hard to celebrate. I must still order my one ring though, muahaha.

I have a secret no one knows
I hide it well, but sometimes it shows
A living lie, a powerful fear
Every truth is forgotten here
Worlds are created where none should have been
The truth comes out, but is buried again
Under more and more lies that breed from pain
A promise forgotten, lost in the flame
I have failed you where I swore I would not
Left you alone and left memories to rot
For a precious second I admit the truth
Writing it down so it is safe from you
So close are the words upon my lips
But instead I write them from my fingertips
Then I throw the words into the fire
Burning with my own foolish desire
To live a life that is not my own
But I must go on so no one knows

The guys at the Police Station are crazy. When they get together they can never be serious. I was looking through the books where they list what calls they've had during a shift and someone listed a woman as "Psycho chick". There were "job ads" listed for drunk/drug junkies such as "Lil' Daddy is available to speak in schools to tell children about drugs. He requires payment in Crank or equivilent." Someone had also marked "Anthrax" on the sugar container and drawn on the people on the FBI Most wanted list.

Then again, some people are just as stupid. The Medicine Shoppe was broken into the other day. The robber broke the window pane and simply unlocked the door and walked in. The owner walked toward the door with a cardboard box lid and some scotch tape. The detective asked him what he was doing and the owner replied,"oh, I'm securing the door." Yeah, real secure. He finally settled on the cardboard box top and duct tape. People in this town impress me to a degree of stupidity I have never experienced before.

A friend from our church came a few days ago. Unfortunately there my underwear still lay. Yes, quite embarrassing because it still lays there. I have a puppy now who likes to urinate all over the floor whenever possible. I am not amused. He found my underwear laying beside the steps the other day. Then he proceeded to pick it up, flinging it around wildly for all the world to see. I tried to chase him, but to no avail. As of yet, I have no clue where my underwear is. He also stole my bra this morning, put it on his head, and dashed off into the yard in front of everyone. I was once again not amused. I feel like I have post-natal depression. Yes, life sucks.

It is many, many days later. I have come to yet another realization: A man from our church has stopped by the house with his fairly attractive son and there, beside the steps, sits my pair of underwear. Unmoved. I live a sad life indeed if I cannot get up off my lazy butt and remove that underwear to save myself further embarrassment. Yes, I am lazy indeed.

I went to Barbizon Sunday. Quite fun I must say. I will never get why guys flirt with you in hopes of "scoring" when it's obvious they excel in pouring comments on thick like concrete but lack the substances necessary to make it solid. No, no they are devious yet stupid. The more I resist, the more they follow. When will they learn I may be a model, but that does not make me dim-witted and brainless. Yes, young patowan, you still have much to learn. And since when do you kiss somebody by making your lips shrink as if you've just won a chugging contest with lemon juice?

I have nothing else to say for once. I was thinking the other night....you know...I'm doing pretty well for myself and I'm a great person. Oh no...no self-esteem problems here :) And on an unrelated note: I'M GETTING A GERMAN SHEPHERD PUPPY! Christoph would be proud muahaha.

At this moment in time at 4:40 A.M. I am currently pondering 3 things.

1.) Why I have not noticed a pair of my underwear laying beside the front steps? Judging from the cobwebs it has been there for quite some time. Coming up the steps this morning something just happened to catch my eye. What could it be, you ponder? Why nothing but a pair of my underwear broadcasting itself for all the world to see. Many people had been by our house by this point so there's no telling how many people came by and saw that and thought we lived like bottom dwellers. How most unfortunate for me. At of yet, I have not moved my ego deflating embarrassment (a.k.a underwear) I guess I shall have to attend to such duties before I go to bed and someone (else) important comes by and notices.

2.) Why is it that you feel most at peace in the early morning hours in the frigid temperatures freezing your butt off because you didn't put on enough layers? The world may never know...

3.) Why is my ice cream melting all over my keyboard? Biting into it is like biting into a telephone pole it's so frozen, but yet....here it melts to take sticky prints off my fingers when I type. I must eat it to solve this problem....

Have you ever noticed how children talk to themselves? They would not make good mayors and I have a reason behind such a statement. While driving to Spartanburg, Brent amused himself by playing "Sims City 3000" on my laptop. I would hear him occassionally read out what the Sims were saying, and then if a comment made him mad enough, he would either put a disaster on them or raise taxes. Within 5 minutes the city was practically leveled and taxes were up to 22%. I will now recreate the timespan he spent talking with himself.....

"Woahhhhhhhh Heather check out this city! It has 2 million people in it! What? I'm spending $350,000 a month on them? Oh no.....some of this stuff has to go. ::proceeds to uncheck neccessary things. Water/waste/etc.:: Let's see....homeless shelters....they cost too much....out they go. What? My Sims are protesting! Wellll....it's time for a....::evil grin:: NATURAL DISASTER!!! ::makes tornado noises as the tornado demolishes the city then laughs hysterically:: HEATHER LOOK AT THEM RUN! LOOK! AHAHAHAHAHAH! Ok time for an earthquake!" at which point I reply,"It's a good thing you're not God." He started to say something but then said,"HEY LOOK! THE MOTHERSHIP! It's attacking the city how cool is that?!" Then he set a nuclear power plant between the famous land marks (of course the mothership hit the power plants and that blew everything within a 25 mile radius up) What was left he set on fire. Then what few Sims were left started a riot and started throwing trashcans and debris. Yes....such a lovely world they live in.

Whatever else I was going to say....I forgot....

I saw the bootleg version of "8 Mile" tonight. While the audio (the bootleg's fault) and the meaning
(The writer's fault) were hard to make out, I sat through it anyway wishing it was over. Don't get me wrong,
I do agree with Pam in the fact that Marshall is a good actor. But as far as the movie goes, I wasn't really
that impressed. Let me tell you why.

1.) I don't enjoy sex scenes. I would rather not waste time watching two people do each other. And no,
don't come back at me with some crack-headed comment like,"oh, Heather, it's art." It's not art, it's sex.
If it was art there would be "Da Vinci" stamped on someone's butt or something. I think people's bodies
need to be kept to themselves and their significant other, not to the whole world. And the scene can pretty
much go unnoticed if it's quick and over witih. But on and on and on these two people went at it. They're
screwing like dogs in heat, I GET IT ALREADY! Where did it fit with the plot?

2.) Not that much more had been achieved at the end than in the beginning. Okay, the man won the contest.
That's great. Kudos to him. I'm glad he finally got the nerve up and didn't get "choked". But he was still no
further along. He still lived in a trailor, still worked his butt off, still had no dreams materialize, etc etc. The
only thing accomplished was him getting over his stage fright and winning a contest that he even said he
didn't care about winning anyway.

and I don't really enjoy movies with trailor trash people in them. At least not if they stay that way through
the whole movie. Not to say that he was trailor trash...his mother was. And she was a dead-beat no count
mother and the only way she tried to fix it was to win bingo. Yes, that changes everything....not...

Nothing aggravates me more than people honking the horn. I don't understand why it was even
invented. Yesterday I was walking downtown Atlanta to eat dinner with my cousin and her husband (
who are in the CIA might I add.) and every single person on the freaking road was honking the horn.
There was apparently no reason for the loud obnoxious hand slap against the rubber that makes that
noise...so eventually I became so frustrated I screamed,"SHUTUP!!!!!!!!!!" as loud as I could to at
least 750 people. Everyone stopped. Then they began randomly honking the horn at poor little me
standing infuriated on the sidewalk. I informed them that they should read between the lines and left
it at that.

My uncle is a funny guy. I never really knew that. He came back to America to be with my aunt and it
was supposed to be a surprise. Of course my great-aunt told her (as usual) and he starting railing to
whoever would hear. He said (in an extremely thick British accent),"I would like to inquire why she told
Angela about me being here and I would love to see her go dry for excuses while I railed at her in my
sexy attractive English accent!" Then we got to talking about careers and being positive and modeling
and so forth and so on. Mom told him she thought he should be a model. To which I quipped,"Oh
yeah. A Calvin Klein underwear model!" and he said,"oh my God no....I'm way too sexy to graze the
cover of a magazine. Why think of all the accidents it would cause!" ...no comment and moving on.
He's also very blunt too. I mentioned to him that I needed to shave and he said,"Ah, growing well then
are we? Or just trying to see if the 'goat look' is fashionable?" I would laugh if that were funny.

On another note, my best friend Lori and I have decided to take it upon ourselves to become fluent
in German. Once that language has been attained into our simple, yet extremely brilliant minds we will
continue on to the University of Heidelberg in...where else...Germany. There we will become better
than all of you. Guten tag.

PS Last and official name change: Nele Renatae Ulrich

I'm here in Atlanta. My aunt is dying of cancer and only has a few days left. I broke
my glasses. I broke my brand new contact. I am not happy.

I didn't know what hospital they took my aunt to, then I found out she was at Emory.
I went to Emory hospital only to find out that there were two Emory hospitals and the
one I was at was not the one she was at. I had to walk up two flights of the parking
garage, walk to the other side of the building, go up an elevator, walk down another
walkway to find this out. Then I had to run to make it on time because it costs if you
are in the parking lot for more than 15 minutes. Lucky me. It was pretty much the
same thing at the other hospital. But I did find something interesting. People in
Atlanta can't give directions for crap! I got lost more times than I knew was possible.
At the hospital we found out the news on my aunt. My uncle is still in a state of "If I
believe it will happen, it will happen" and is therefore refusing to accepted the fact
she has a limited time left. She was hallucinating and talking about a big pipe that
said,"big wompum" on it.

On my frustrating voyage of being lost, I came to stop light that refused to change.
I became so mad I started honking at the light knowing it wouldn't hear me but doing
it anyway. I felt better temporarily.

Someone who thinks I'm her friend calls wanted me to take her somewhere. I told
her earlier that I was in Atlanta and reminded her again of where I was. She then
proceeded to ask me how long it would take me to get back home. Ah...stupidity is
such a hard disease to cure.

On an unrelated note: my blog is screwed up and I am not happy.

Along with Wal-Mart, I also hate the system. Yes that law-making system that has nothing better to
do. "I just want you to be safe." the pug-looking policeman said to me. I was the only car around
for miles. Okay, MILES. I could have slammed straight through the concrete median and still not hit
anyone. I went to court today. He cut it down to 2 points and $52. I appreciate that but I would
rather him just take it all off! RARRRR!!! You know if I was a bad person I would have any job I
wanted, and come out virtually unscathed in anything.

Deep thinking has the ability to hurt one's brain. It would be much easier if I had no brain and no
heart. Much like the tin man. My new ambition in life: to become the tin man. Sometimes life is
great. Sometimes all of a sudden you feel like you been body-slammed to the ground and a big fat
man is sitting on you prohibiting your breathing and movement (or lack thereof). But, we move on
because we must. We stumble and struggle trying to make sense of it all, but I wonder....is it ever
supposed to make sense? Possibly not. Nothing happens for free and nothing comes without
determination. This is life...it comes to you and says,"ich hab euch etwas mitgebracht, hab es aus
meiner Brust gerissen." But do not be fooled. It lies to you and has brought you nothing.

PS Semper Fi, mein liebe, Semper Fi

I hate Wal-Mart. I really do. If it was on fire, I would shoot the tires out of the fire truck so it couldn't get there and sit back in a recliner (stolen from Wal-Mart) and watch the blaze. Oh, and steal some marshmallows so I could roast them. Muahaha. I tried to return my Episode II DVD because Wal-Mart only carried the Wide-Screen Version, and I didn't know they even made a Full-Screen Version until I went to the mall and saw it. It was also 5 dollars cheaper. Of course Wal-Mart wouldn't take it back. Rarrrrrrrr

I went to Circuit City to put in an application. I guess the jobs you are meant for ask the most questions. I had to filll out a 6 page form, signing that I would allow them to check my credit, give me a lie detector test, etc, etc. Then I had to fill out a 98 question form that asked the same question on more than one occasion. On my way out I met some redneck women. If as if they even resemble anything close to women. I think they were trying to say something to offend me...(they're just jealous cause....in the words of the Nicole...."OH MAH GOODNESS TITTIES AND TEETH! NEVER SEEN THEM COMBINED!")...and this isn't the first time any redneck has tried to say something derogatory towards me even when it doesn't make sense. But they don't succeed very often if they do want to offend me since deficient articulation due to lack of teeth prevents me from hearing the content of the offending comment. Still, however, they try.

Germans, Southerners, Indians, and Christians are always the butt of Hollywood. Fortunately for me I am all 4. So I am allowed to be offended more often. Germans are usually portrayed as Hitler-devoted Nazi Fascists, even though most of them are not. They are some of the most hard-working, close to perfect people out there. (did I mention extremely good looking?) Southerners are always portrayed as the redneck loser retard who is prejudice towards everyone and everything. That's not even close. (rednecks are another story...but...) Just because you are southern does not make you a retard, a redneck, a loser, or anyone dificient in vocabulary. So shutup with the whole prejudice thing and rebel flag. The rebel flag stands for all the men who fought and died in the war. It's official name is the "confederate flag" for a reason. Heritage, not hate. If you don't agree, I live here so SIT DOWN AND SHUTUP. No one I know is prejudice. Everyone gets along just fine. If you want to talk about slavery, the north sold slaves to the south. What now? And you were not a slave and I never owned slaves so I DON'T OWE YOU AN APOLOGY. Indians are usually viewed as scalpers, blood thirsty and devoid of emotion. Again, not true. Some of them were like that. But as I say....I am part indian and I have never killed, scalped, ripped someone's heart out, drank their blood, etc. Christians are usually viewed as weak, helpless idiots who rant and rave to the stars as if they were cavemen. I know some who are a little bit on the extreme side, but we are not all like that. (99.99% of us.) Some of the coolest people you'll ever meet are Christian. Deal with it. The reason for this ranting is I watched "Windtalkers" last night. Good movie except for that man they had play a Southerner. Complete with backwoods accent, prejudice, and idiocy. I am not amused.

On a final note, I have a new quote. "Sigmund Freud....ANALYZE THIS! ::BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Yes, I am aware I just sounded like a redneck, but my only bad habit is burping and it is not done in fancy places. At least I don't fart like the rest of the population. I rest my case.

I only have one thing to say really. "I'm not afraid to die. I've been dying a little everyday since you came into my life."

Imran thinks I need a mentor. I think I need mentally challeneged adults to stop trying to fix what doesn't need be fixed. In short, I am annoyed that I am not allowed to live my life the way I want to live it because people think I should be the cookie-cutter idea of a certain way/person. I'm trying to get him or my aunt to take me to get a tattoo but they won't because they are scared of what my mother will think. Well too bad. I'm getting one anyway. I will find the tattoo place myself. It is time for me to live and LIVE is what I will do! MUAHAHAHA!

I was coming out of the marta station the other day. This is where I found that the saying,"you can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy." Is entirely too true. As I was getting ready to walk down the stairs I discovered a little boy about 3 peeing in a corner. I'm not going to tell what was going through my mind at that point and time. We walked down to the marta and sat down on one of the benches (or concrete slabs) and got wrapped up in a conversation lacking any intelligent speech whatsoever between two women. The conversation was as follows:

Woman 1: Yo.......nigga don't chu be takin' mah phone like da' or imma slap ya.
Woman 2: Whatchu talkin' 'bout nigga i din' touch yo phone!
Woman 1: I seh you betta NOT be tou......::phone rings:: hang on...HELLO? OH HAY BABY! WHERE YOU IS? Where I is? I AT THA TRAIN STATION. OH I SEE YOU! YOU'S ACROSS DA SKREET! GET ON OVER HERE! Okay...I luh' ya...bye bye. ::hangs up and stares as if nothing has happened.::
Woman 2: Who da' was?
Woman 1: aw das jus' mah baby daddy.
Woman 2: yo boyfriend?
Woman 1: no
Woman 2: yo husband?
Woman 1: no thas jus my baby daddy.

My uncle is British. Refined British too. He does not talk like Ozzy Osbourne. It's more...well...cultured. At which point he becomes fascinated with the way they are talking, and in a thick British accent says,"Hey! Look a' tha' brotha' over theh' in the nice hat. That be coo'. He be the man." At which point both ladies look over at him and say,"NO" in the most disbelieving way as if he would ever dare use their accent....or lack thereof. But Imran finds many things fascinating that we do not. Just yesterday he came running in the room saying,"OH LOOK ANGELA! I FOUND A PENCIL SHAHPNAH! HOW EXCEYTING!!!" Sad really...but I love him to death.

I agree with Pam: Wal-mart SUCKS. There were several CD's I wanted to get. (I found plenty of John Mayer by the way.) However, they were sold out of all of what I wanted. They had plenty of what I didn't want, though. I was determined not to leave without a CD. (I'm sorry but I can only take Buck Owens, Johnny Cash, George Jones, and all those other old-time country crooners for so long. Not that I don't like them...I just can't listen to them all night.) I finally decided on one after looking through the entire collection album by album. Yes, every single CD was combed through and given a good inspection by yours truly....and yours truly was not impressed. I then discovered an ad for the new 007 game. Intrigued, I forgot all about the CD I didn't really want anyway and stared at the T.V. screen in stupified awe. I spent 30 minutes trying to find the game, finally coming to the conclusion it wasn't out yet. I tried to catch one of the staff to ask them, but they spotted me and would scatter like flies on dead meat anytime I got within 120 feet. After running around the whole store, I finally caught one. She conveniently did not have the list with her. Note to self: Ban Wal-Mart.

I got back to the police station just in time to watch in horror as one policeman put in "40 Days and 40 Nights". I tried to think nice thoughts about the movie, but the only coherent thought that was distinguishable was,"This movie sucks." That and,"Must....escape..." Being more of an action movie person myself, I can take the occasional romantic movie. This was nothing but pure stupidity. If you like the movie, I don't care because it's stupid. Pam is going to comment on this I'm sure because I'm about to say the only movie worse than this one was "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back". The plot....."do not have sex for 40 days and 40 nights." How pathetic is that and how pathetic is the person who has to make a deal for favor with God that he won't have sex for 40 days and 40 nights? Does he think God is stupid? Did the director think we are stupid? More than likely so. I do not find this sort of plot entertaining in the least bit. His masturbational fantasies, complete with former sex visions and what not did not interest me. Point being: It's just stupid. I can only take so many cuss words in one movie. Every so often I can deal with I don't really care, but every other word just shows their ignorance because they have nothing else to say. Movies like that are written by people with no brain who cannot think up normal decent dialogue so they throw in words that fit to make it minimum standard time so they can have their name out there in Hollywood because their daddy is a rich man and IF YOU DON'T WATCH THEIR MOVIE HE WILL FIRE YOU! With that said....I'm going to bed now....

I'm always thinking of you then...

Ok change that. It makes more sense for the character to be German since I'm learning German....hmmm...I don't knowww. Comment and I'll take a poll. Should i play a German or Russian? And nobody better say both.

I've decided that my character in my movie is going to be Russian. Well...not really Russian...but you would have to read it to understand and I'm not going to let you read it. You'll have to watch it. MUAHAHAHAHHA

Right now as I sit here at 4:52 A.M., coming in from riding 3rd shift....I am strangely at peace. Whether it be the chill of the night air, the thrill of the danger, or some other unknown force...I am finally at peace again. I have not felt this way in a long time and I'm going to throw it a welcome home party. Whatever comes, right now I can take it. (However I don't suggest any dark forces try and hold me to that.)

I did nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I love Halloween. The only time of year when I can dress up like my idol and not be stared at. Okay well I was still stared at, but that's beside the point. Who is my idol you ask? The terminator. Yes....the terminator. He inspires me. My look came complete with black trenchcoat, blood oozing metal hand, black everything (and vinyl shiny black pants), bullets linked together around my shoulder down my back, and my face partially covered in metal with blood so lifelike many people screamed and jumped back when they saw it. Before you decide to get cocky and try to inflate your head more by saying,"uh derr....I bet that was because it was you they were looking at..." it was not. Because once they realized it was fake, they were like,"::gasp:: but that looks so real.....can I touch it just to make sure?" err....no. But anyway...I loved it. I took Brent trick-or-treating. He had a scream mask on that dripped blood. In case you haven't noticed, we're obsessed with death, blood, gore and whatever else. That was about the extent of my fun today. I wanted to spray my hair in blacklight paint, but I forgot...so I shall do that some other time.

~~~Hier kommt die Sonne

I was stuck in traffic for forever. We have a bridge within plain view of the railroad crossing that you use whenever a train is coming and those....er...things...come down, but apparently every idiot in front of me could not see that. The big stick looking obnoxious beasts kept coming down and going back up. Finally some tractor/bobcat looking thing came down the railroad tracks. Then they kept going. I was thoroughly agitated.

~~~I used to have a handle on life, but it broke

I have had so much to say, but no energy to blog it down. Or, in the words of Till, "load it down." Sorry...anyway...I shall continue on because I am EL NI�O! MUAHAHAHA! No wait...that's Pam. So I guess then I am LA NI�A! MUAHAHHAHAA! Yes...anyway...moving on...

Japanese people are interesting. Especially the ones at Kan-Pai. We went there for my friend Nicole's birthday. She wanted a candle....she got one...in her rice. I think he was flirting with her...she begged to differ but she doesn't notice things like I do so she doesn't count. He made her a paper mach� flower and wrote "Happy b-day" on it. See...if that isn't flirting I don't know what is! He was quite entertaining and I have to admit, I had eifersucht running through my veins. For those of you who know pas about German, that means jealousy. He showed us a japanese mickey mouse with hot oil and set enough things on fire to keep a fire department busy for a month. We've all gone back since then. Our other chef did basically the same thing setting rice on fire shaped like a fish. Yes...Laich zeit...just kidding. I'm not translating that so don't ask me to.

I don't remember half of what I was going to blog about. The absence of doing it right when it happens creates a problem. However, were it not for the last minute nothing would ever get done. Lucky you, eh? You get to watch me stumble through the blog like a man when he wakes up in the morning trying to find the bathroom. (Sorry...I had to. I have many male friends who share experiences.) I got my truck back finally. After almost 6 months, but I got it back. Threatening does get you places. Pam always says "violins not violence". I however believe it is the other way around, but that's just me.

I went to Barbizon Sunday. That is where I discovered I have mastered the art of seducing men. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I probably shouldn't be saying this, but yes, I have mastered it. I do give lessons for whoever wants them, $1,800 for 3 lessons. It's well worth it if you ask me. Just call me...Yoda. We had to find out what kind of "face shape" we had and I was told that I reminded people of a "terminator biker chick". Well rock on...
That's all I have to say about that pretty much...okay one other thing...David is one hot mofo...

After weeks of pondering I have finally decided on what I'm going to change my name to. Nele Renatae Akena. Yes...more than likely 3 days later I'm going to change the first name again, but for the moment that's my new name. If you don't like it, don't bother telling me so because it only creates hazards for your life. If you do like it, feel free to tell me.

In the wee hours of the morning, one discovers things that one didn't know about oneself. Like why your best friend seems to have lost her mind and it is strolling through the fields with yours. We have come to a conclusion as to what we want on our tombstone. "Bow to the onions." Believe it or not, there is actually a story behind that...I just don't feel like typing it. With that said....BOW TO THE ONIONS!!

Pam and I agree: Sex before marriage is not worth it. If you think differently, you will agree with us soon enough. You also suck and are stupid. Explanation will be given on a later blog, but right now my back hurts and I'm tired. Deal with it. I have nothing else to say. Auf wiederzehn.

Hello, and welcome to another exciting episode of "My Life Sucks" with Heather Dover. Shall we get started? I went to see my friend Addison at Clemson yesterday. I really enjoyed FCA and seeing the campus and all that. I did not, however, enjoy getting lost.....again....However getting lost on the way back was much worse. I was going on 85 south and needed to be on 85 North, but some idiot put 2 roads into 85 south instead of one into north and one into south. Anyway...point being...I took 85 south. I looked desperately for a bridge in the pitch darkness and saw none. I desperately cried out to God for a bridge and I saw one...there was just no exit to it. So I asked God for a bridge with an exit to it, only to realize the exit I had just passed had a bridge to it. I was not amused. I missed about 4 bridges, but once I got into Georgia and found one, I turned around and headed home. Something kept telling me something bad was going to happen that night, not anything tragic, just annoying. Mucho annoying. So I prayed for safety and all that and also prayed that I wouldn't get stopped or get a ticket. Apparently God didn't hear the last part. I was going 74, and when I realized it, slowed down to 63. Normally I wouldn't care that I was going 74, but I was the only car for miles. After I slowed down to 63, I passed a trooper sitting on the side of the road who blue-lighted me. I was not amused. He proceeded to tell me that I was going 81. I was NOT going 81 and wanted to beat him over the head with his clipboard. However, my heart is not what it should be and I was about to die and could not think straight. I could have gotten out of it, but the only coherent sentence that came out was,"My spedometer said 63." Well I guess it doesn't matter what my spedometer said because he wrote me a $156 ticket, fueling my hatred of "the po-po". Ok, I take that back.....I don't hate policemen...just the county ones :) Ok just the county ones who pull me over for no reason. Anyway...He agreed with me that the zone was 65 mph, but wrote on the ticket that it was 60 mph. I was, again, not impressed. Hell hath no fury like my rage....and in court....I'm going to rant and rave like a redneck and then fake a heart attack. Yessss......it is all so perfect....

The simple pleasures in life. Right now I am sitting here eating peanut butter fudge and enjoying every moment of it while I feel the nagging urge to post. This is probably because Lori has cursed me to post at least once every 3 days or she convulses while foaming at the mouth. Just kidding...anyway...now I must begin the task of filling you in on the last 3 days...it starts...

There's a little town in SC called Enoree. (There's also one called Sugartit, but that's another blog, another time.) I suggest you never EVER visit there. My mother wanted to go for a ride, and she used to live in Cross Anchor (which is not too far from Enoree) so we got in the car and drove. After about 2 hours of drinking soda and watching the road, I had to use the loo in a major way. I asked her if we would be coming into civilization anytime soon because I really had to go to the bathroom, and she said,"Oh sure, in about 8 miles. Can you wait?" Oblivious to the nice gas station we had just passed. So I waited.....and I waited..and I waited...8 miles turned into 9, 9 miles turned into 10 and so on. So finally we came to the God-forsaken town of Enoree and as luck would have it, there was a gas station. I waited until everyone had left the store because frankly they all looked like redneck serial killers, then I went in. I asked the lady who looked like an illegal alien if I needed a key to the bathroom and she said,"NO...unlocked..." I growled at her in response and went to the bathroom. I instantly found out why I needed no key. There was no lock. The door had been apparently kicked in and the lock blown off. There was a hole in the side big enough to see though, but I had to pee. I noticed a wash basin in there about half my size and 5 times as wide, so I pushed it in front of the door. I turned towards the loo that looked like it was stolen from an outhouse and noticed that Hotspot is not the only place that puts condoms in the wall dispenser instead of tampons. I used half the roll of toilet paper trying to keep contact away from my butt and the seat, but I would imagine the cooties still did a good job of eating through. Of course there was no soap (rednecks don't believe in such) and the dryer was ripped off the wall. Actually the whole thing wasn't ripped off the wall....jut the button and the metal part where the air comes out. Knowing these people, they probably just fart-dried their hands. So I pushed the basin back out of the way and got some cappuccino. While up there, I was graced with the presence of some drunk woman who kept tapping me. She had two gigantic beers in her arms and from the lines in her face, and the gaps in her teeth and spaces in her mouth where teeth should have been, I could tell this woman was an avid alcoholic. She kept setting her beer in front of me on the counter and moving in front of me. I, in return, would move back in front of her. Finally after the 9th time or so, I looked at her and said,"uh...NO" and moved in front of her again, prepared to knock her remaining tooth out if need be. Before she could reply, another man walked in. He had more teeth than she did, but smelled twice as bad. He also had a beard ZZ Top would have been proud of, and there's no telling what dead creatures lay tangled in that beard. He laughed a santa clause laugh and said,"WUH I AIN'T SEEN YOU IN A MILLYAN YEARS!" To which the drunken thing replied,"WUH I AIN'T SEEN YOU IN A MILLYAN YEARS AND UH HAIF!!!!! HUH HUH HUH" I would have laughed if that were funny....but anyway...he proceeded to tell her,"you ain't aged a BIT" and she said,"aww thank ye yer just too kind." No, he's not kind. He's lying. Either that, or she always looked that old. They asked each other about their "young'uns" and their "old lady" or "old man" from the other end. For those of you who don't know, the rednecks consider their old lady/old man their wife/husband. The person can be 27 years younger and still be their old lady/old man. It's a vicious cycle with a vicious name, Anyway...I ran out of there as fast as I could before Santa went in the bathroom and discovered the neon/glow in the dark/assorted flavor condoms and tried to use them as nose warmers.

You might have thought I was done talking about drunk people...but...I am not. I ride with Bobby (he has lost his title as my "father''. That title now belongs to my new dad, Richard. :)) on 3rd shift a lot and he asked me where I wanted to eat. I said,"What are my choices?" He replied,"Well there's the Sandwich Castle, the Sandwich Castle, or the Sandwich Castle. Oh, did I say the Sandwich Castle yet?" Again I say, I would have laughed if that were funny. The Sandwich Castle is a joke of a restaurant. It is nasty, disgusting, and filthy. He however enjoys the place so I don't know what that says about him. There's a drunk man who is always in there named Billy Jack and he is the poorest excuse for a human I have ever met in my life. He told us about the woman waiting for him at home, and then told us how ugly she was and how he would rather have her daughter because she's still ugly, just less ugly. Some woman in bright ungodly pink lipstick spoke up and her voice sounded like a 2 year old child prostitute. "Why....Billy Jack...I thought you loved me." and he said,"why you ugly too.....you don't even know my name." And she told him his name and his father's name and his fake name and everything else. He replied,"WOMAN MY NAME IS BILLY JACK! NOW SPELL IT! B-I-L-L-L-L-Y X-P-M-G-A-.....aw hell..." yes...his spelling needs a little work, but at least he realizes this. The woman told him that she didn't believe he had a job and she wanted to see his stub. The waitress was more evil than me and screamed,"IF I SEE THE STUB I KNOW HE GON' PULL OUT, I'M GETTIN' DA' HELLZ OUTTA HEA!" sad actually...

Last night really wasn't anything interesting. We listened to this guy on the radio talking about pirates and how they existed today and all this...blah blah blah...he offered them stale coffee when they attacked his ship......blah blah blah....and Bobby replied,"Well I'da put a 12 gauge up 'ere butt and then theyda realized they shouldn't mess with me!" I tried to explain that the man didn't HAVE a 12 gauge and was just trying to survive because the men had guns and the sailor didn't and was the only one on board. He didn't pay me any attention and just sang,"If I go down, I'll go down swingin'" the rest of the night. Which reminds me....I must put that letter in the mailbox beside the railroad tracks I am sure is for a hobo of some sort. It reads: "Dear Mr. Hobo...I have faith in you! You can do anything you set your mind to! Love, your secret admirer." See...I do have a heart...

Ah, for once in my life I have been busy, so excuse my lack of post for several days. Right now I am listening to my mother becoming enthralled with our new skull candy dispenser that burps, laughs, and says,"Pardon me". Then she complains that nothing is coming out, then she fixes the problem and does the whole routine over again. I am somewhat less amused frankly because I can do that myself. I am good at it, and practice it often. The dear one who birthed me claims that is unlady like, however I am not a lady so I reply with the most loud and disgusting burp imaginable. Ah yes, the good life.

Brent and I have thought up a new game. It's called,''Dover car." It's much like "punchbug" except a little different. Even though I have to take partial claim to that wretched last name, I will not ever claim the rednecks who share it with me simply because they are who they are. With that said, let me explain the rules. The Dover's are the most backwoods redneck people you will ever meet in your entire life (minus me of course) and their vehicles are no exception. If it has at least 75% rust, missing fiberglass (or glass in general with ducktape embarrassingly trying to cover it up), no hubcaps, a very sucky paint job, is missing pieces normal cars should have, and cost less than $500, you have yourself a genuine Dover car. Everytime we pass one, we have to yell,"Dover car" and smack the other person in the back of the head. You would be amazed at the Dover cars we passed. Some even lost parts of their car in the street. I think there's a littering fine on that...I'll have to check...but anyway...I won everytime, of course. Brent did come close at some point, but was ultimately defeated. We saw over 30 Dover cars that day, and we still weren't satisfied with it...so being the weird people we are, we added on to it. If someone was missing more than 5 teeth, had nappy very VERY long hair that hadn't been brushed since birth, pants ripped to the point it looked like they were only wearing underwear, smelled like a garbage dump, and had "Looka dis right cher", "ain't never seen one like 'at" or other selective phrases in their vocabulary, they were classified as a "Dover dude" or "Dover chick". We got more of those than anything else, but are you surprised? We figure they stole all the nice cars because they learn how to hotwire them by the time they are three. It is around the time their first tooth gets knocked out when they try that new "rasslin'' move they learned on "da tayvay".

Brent is going to get himself hurt one day. I just know it. He doesn't realize that tinted windows only work if you don't have your face smashed up against it. I look over to see him sticking his tongue out at the person in the next car over. I was apalled and prepared to floor it knowing we were going to be shot (remember the Dover's are out), but then I noticed the strangest thing. She was sticking her tongue out at him and making faces at him as well. She had to have been close to 50! Strange...very strange indeed...

I have this phobia of red lights. I feel that it is going to be a good day as long as all the lights I come up to are green. That being said, I go to all lengths necessary to avoid red lights. I was coming to a light today when, to my horror, the bugger turned red. Brent screamed "NOOO" in slow motion while I slowed down...just not to a complete stop. I went 1 M.P.H down the road and, for some reason, got the deer in the headlight look from passerby's (who were stopped completely.) But like I said...anything to avoid a red light...

My Terminator costume has now been acquired. Complete with large machine gun bullets to hang around the shoulder, cyborg half face, blood, black hair, leather accessories, cyborg hand, etc. Yes...be afraid...be very afraid. I am the terminator I tell you! You just don't know it. You will not realize it either until it is too late.

I have spent two days trying to clean extremely flammable blacklight hairspray off the walls. For some reason I read it as "spraypaint" instead of "hairspray". It's still not all off, but you know my philosophy. "Screw it". I settled for re-writing everything in glow in the dark pens that glow extremely nice in blacklight. I am thrilled. This is sad.

There were many things I was going to remember to blog about...unfortunately most of those things are hiding in the dark recesses of my mind and they will not show themselves so I can reveal my revelations to you. Therefore, you must unfortunately do without. Should I remember at some point, I will definately report them to you. Auf weiderzehn for now...

PS More power to the blacklight!

I haven't been posting because I haven't had anything to say believe it or not. (more than likely it's the latter of those two.) However, to make you happy, I'm going to babble my way throughout the blog anyway. So sit back, relax, and prepare to watch your IQ drop at least 10 points....

I had another very disturbing dream. This one was about Schneider and Till, however to save permanent scarring, I'm not going to reveal it to you. I am simply going to keep it to myself and torture them with it immensely. Of course, Till will probably like the idea and run with it simply because he is like that. I really have nothing to say...I sleep all the time....why am I blogging?

My computer died again. Actually it died twice. I unplugged it and started pressing the on/off button repeatedly until it started working by absolute magic. So I plugged it all back up and started it up again and...you guessed it...it died. At this point I flew into a rage, kicking the electronic dimwitted fool and screaming to all who would and would not hear that I had acquired a genuine one of a kind p-o-s. This is the highlight of my day. Well...that is all for now. There Lori......ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? I posted and it's boring because I STILL had nothing to say but I did it to appease you. Oh, and by the way, I luff to play dwums. LOLLLLL sorry sorry sorry! Little inside joke there. I could tell it to you, but of course by then it's not an inside joke. That's all for now.

Interviewer: Who is the woman from Engel?
Till: My sister.......::pause:: and my girlfriend too....
Schneider: His dahtah (daughter) too
Till: NO NO...nono....
Interviewer: ::nervous laugh:: Ok, so who is she then?
Till: ::angry look:: I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!

I had a dream Richard was a guppy. He was swimming around in the pool with an oxygen tank while I forgot about him and then all of a sudden realized his 220 minutes of oxygen were probably up. We drained the pool that was all of a sudden made out of concrete and behind our church and I jumped in and started doing CPR on the very VERY large guppy (about the size of a human) and he woke up and I was like,"RICHARD!!!!!! ::hug::" and if you hug guppies...they are not the greatest things in the world to hug. He then turned back into Richard. This was the ghetto redneck version of the Frog Prince

I actually cooked breakfast yesterday. Wait...before you get out your little paper bags and breathe into them before you go hysterical...there is a reason for my house wife-ish actions. I was forced. Plain and simple. Why I took Home-Ec I will never know. Someone who plans on having a maid does not need to know such things. Am I right? Of course I am.

I brought Debbie over because she offered to clean the house and since "clean" is not in my vocab anywhere (not even in the dark recesses where the cobwebs and spiders live), I decided to let her have a go at it. She came over and while engaged in conversation, I felt comfortable enough to let out a burp loud enough for any man to be proud of. She, however, did not find it as amusing as me and proceeded to exclaim,"BARBIZON! WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY! CALL 9-1-1!! ONE OF YOUR MODELS JUST BURPED!!!!! THIS IS HORRIBLE!" I was not amused. Christoph had basically the same comment. Since when could models not burp? I saw that nowhere in the paper work.

I had to go to Wal-Mart. For those of you who do not know me, I hate Wal-Mart. Absolutely loathe it. With that said, you now know that me having to go TWICE is quite an effort on my part. Anyway, I got water only to find that clutching it to my chest like a homeless man who'd just found a 5 karat diamond was not a good idea. The container had a slow leak in it, so when I put it on the counter, I had water running down my shirt. I had on a black shirt, so you couldn't tell that it was just water and it looked like nursing time gone bad for me. I was not impressed because I was being stared at and the "IT'S JUST WATER QUIT LOOKING AT ME!" comment was not working. I got the slow-leaking trouble maker home only for it to slip out of my hands and explode like the Hoover Dam with 200 lbs of C4 strapped to it. At this point I proceeded to kick the water all around the yard screaming and ranting in German. When I couldn't remember a word, I made one up. I'm going to invent my own language someday...

I'm tired of taking things back to the store, and they know this. That's why they always give me all the crappy equipment that breaks. I am not amused by this because they know me too well and I don't like to be figured out. Point being, my computer broke again. This would make trip 7 to Best Buy. Well I decided I would either run it over by my car and claim it on the insurance, take it back ,or fix it myself. I ended up choosing the last idea (with much chagrin because the first one sounded much more fun) and got Brent to help. I pulled off the cover and sprayed the inside down with my can of air, only to realize I was pressing the handle too hard and now had white foam all over the inside of the computer. I was not impressed. I sprayed it all down again with air this time and hooked up different wires and crossed wires and screamed and threatened and somehow got it to work. In the words of Till: I AM GENIUS!!! MUAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!!

God did a miracle for me today. The dent came out of my car. I don't know when or how, but it's gone. The dog thought it would leave it's mark to haunt me for all eternity, but nooooooo. I HAVE TRIUMPHED!!!!! The blasted dent is no more to be found all thanks to the miracle making of the creator. Yes....he is great.

If you don't want to spend months and months of work on "good model posture", you simply pay a bunch of money and cheat. Mom got desperate to alleviate the pain from her sciatic nerve, so we went to the Good Feet Store today. I figured if I could automatically walk like I was supposed to instead of having to do it consciously....that was good enough for me. We went in and no one came. The place was completely empty except for some pictures on the wall of feet (::shudder::) and chairs. Giant doors covered the back part as if he was some hermit that kept to himself while developing photos of the "real world" that he'd never seen but had always heard about and would like to visit. Debbie got tired of waiting and open the door, slammed it, and yelled in a highly sarcastic voice,"OH, WHAT A COOL STORE!" That got Hematoad's attention. He hopped out from behind the doors and was more animated than any human being I have ever met or want to meet in my entire life. He kept referring to her problem as....."tootsie pains". This man used to be a detective for the Asheville police deptartment. Now he is reduced to helping people with "tootsie pains." Had I not felt sorry for him, I would have laughed at his plight long ago. While I walked around with my new found insoled friends, he told me to walk in a straight line towards the door. I wanted to run, but held back the urge. He then told me he was going to look at my butt. I turned around and raised one eyebrow and he tried to save himself by saying,"to make sure you're walking correctly." To which I replied,"Do you enjoy looking at my butt? Because it's going to be the last thing your eyes ever see. ::innocent smile::" I allowed my sarcasm to flow like Broad River (smooth and nasty) and enjoyed every moment. I don't know exactly why, but he informed me I would "make one hell of an FBI agent." I guess he would know....I guess because now I can chase the bad guys for longer distances since I have no tootsie pain. He had problems himself, unfortunately with other issues that the store could not have helped. I wanted to throw up, but maintained composure until I found the nearest trashcan. I shall not elaborate on this because I have no trashcan nearby to contain my digesting food.

I hate it when people use reverse psychology on me because it never works. It only serves to aggravate me and make me mad. So if you ever think about using reverse psychology on me, don't. I tell you this because I care and it's becoming more and more difficult to find places to put the bodies. Ahem...I mean...anyway. A certain "friend" of mine called me today. She told me the heartbreaking story of how she'd been trying to get in touch with me all week(which is a lie), and that she wanted to see me tonight, (which is also a lie. She just wants a ride home.) and then she said,"Call me ok? Love ya!....no wait......::attempts to sound angry:: DON'T CALL ME" and slammed the phone down. Good...I didn't want to call her anyway...and I'm not going to whether she wants me to or not....

Some realizations are good, some are bad, some are pointless, and some are late. The latter of the bunch being my problem yesterday. I realized I had to get something back to Blockbuster before 12 and I looked up at the clock: 12:01. Good job, brain. Now I remember why I keep you. So of course, my immediate next thought: "Eh, screw it." I did take it back today though to pay the late fee that is more than renting the game for a week. I'm going to make a picket sign and march around blockbuster in the pitch darkness with glow in the dark paint. Yes. It makes perfect sense at the moment.

Lunch was incredibly easier to decide on today. We have discovered the effortless art of flipping a coin. So instead of choosing letters, which leads to choosing places, which leads to indecision, we just flip the silver double-sided life saver and VOILA! Note to self: When other people are cleaning up the house, leave so they don't ask you to help.

I went to my mother's school. Children disturb me. Especially these children. They have issues beyond my comprehension, and I wish to talk about it pas. Therefore, we are now moving on...

I saw my dad today and told him about my personal taxi service when he asked me what I had been up to. At this point he proceeded to give me"the look of death" and said,"I don't know why you gotta put so many miles on that car!" to which I flatly replied,"Because I don't have my truck. I wonder where it is...oh wait...it's been sitting at YOUR house for 3 months because you're too broke to replace the air conditioner when it's obvious your new woman has lotssss of money. ::innocent smile::" He was not too happy. He replied,"Well....still..." Ah yes...I have emerged triumphant yet again. I helped him work on a door that would lock everytime you shut it. However, the only reason I helped was because I discovered this only after I had sat in the truck and he shut the door, locking me in it for over an hour. He smiled and said,"Well what do you think Ms. auto-mechanic." And of course, those of you who know me by now know what answer is coming...."I think you have a problem on your hands." Oh yes, I love sarcasm.

Other than that, I did nothing today. I tried...but....sleep called and it won't leave a message. It just keeps calling until you answer.

If I got paid for all the stuff I have to do, Bill Gates would be asking to borrow money from me. However, it's not like I actually mind. My poor car. Almost 10,000 miles in a little over 3 months. You would think I'm a drug smuggler or something. But no...I am, pardon the southern expression, po'. And I'm not talking about the fat red tellytubby. I have no job and I desperately need one. However, my problem with working at fast food restaurants outweighs my desperation for a job. This is probably why I have one pas. I could just do like I've seen a lot of people doing lately. Go to a busy intersection dressed like a redneck and hold up a sign that says,"Stranded. Need food and gas money. Thanks." and do that day after day while still looking like I've taken a shower and changed my clothes. Yes, they are the ones who are still in school. Don't we all wish we could grow up to be like them, eh?

I took Debbie to the garage to take pictures of her poor wrecked car. She asked me if there was any way it could be salvaged and I opened the hood and leaned in. Right then some man with a northern sense of humor said,"ARE YA CHECKIN' 'A OIL IN 'ERE? eheh eheh eheh" So I shut the hood, turned around, smiled and said,"WHY NO BILLY BOB I'M JUST A CHECKIN' FER PARTS SO I'S CAN BUILD ME A RACE CAR ENGINE!" For crying out loud, why do I have to deal with people like this? Then the guy told me about how he hit a horse (???!!!) and he was doing 15, and the horse was doing 55 and the insurance company gave him $1,500 and let him keep the truck. Of course, he's having to pay $20 a day in storage because they let him keep it. Ok, question 1: Why did he have collision on a truck like that anyway?! It was your typical "Dover vehicle". Every part on the truck was a different color,and the most common color on it was "rust". And question 2: Why was he smiling about this as if he had just won "male of the year"?? All that $1,500 is going in storage! Helloooooo....is anybody home? Apparently not...moving on....

Debbie and I went out to lunch today. We were feeding off each other's thoughts without even realizing it. The following conversation shall be abbreviated D for Debbie and H for Heather....only because it's Darren Hayes' initials and that makes me one giddy person.

D: So where do you want to eat?
H: I'm buying so you decide
D: noooo I'm buying
H: No you're not. Now where do you wanna eat?
D: I don't know ::secretly thinking of Ruby Tuesday::
H: Me either ::Secretly thinking of Ruby Tuesday::
D: where do you wanna go?
H: I don't care ::really does::
D: Ok...now tell me a letter and I'll associate it with a restaurant
H: ::purposely says "R"::
D: Ok...um....Ryan's!
H: ....::musters up face excitedness:: OK! ::thinking: "crap"::
D: You wanna go to Ryan's then? ::thinking: "crap"::
H: I don't care
D: Or Ruby Tuesday?
H: Ruby Tuesday!
D: Ok you chose the letter and I named the places so therefore you have to choose the place out of those two.
H: Ruby Tuesday.
D: ok, good cause that's where I really wanted to go in the first place.
H: Me too!
D: woww...who knew?

Yes....we have skills that we didn't even know about. After that...I came home and went to bed and didn't get back up until 1:22 A.M. I'm still tired. This sucks....

Editor's note: If you are of the male species, I advise you to skip this post. I do not want my in-box filled with hate mail seeing as how I will read them and write you back even nastier E-mails because that's just the way I am. With that said....let's move on.

Again I say...the incompetence of men both disturbes and aggravates me. Since when does it take over an hour to check a tube filled with glowing neon to see whether or not it's cracked, busted, etc? I had an odd feeling of Deja vu come over me when I realized here I was again for the same time frame stuck in a chair watching T.V. After a lovely hour of "The Drew Carey Show" and wondering how Mimi could stand such goulish makeup, I was informed that I had two of the, pardon the pun, "busted stuff". Yes, ladies and gentlemen, in only one hour I learned I had two cracked neon tubes both filled to the brim with water (which probably was the acid spit sound I was hearing everytime I pulled into the driveway and turned the car off). I just smiled nicely at the incredibly hot man and said,"Ok....now tell me something I don't know." and he said,"Well you have two of them cracked....and we only have one in stock." I smiled an even more fake smile and said,"Again I say....tell me something I don't know." I should have known better, but I didn't. Always listen to the little voice. Next time I go back will mark the 7th time I've been to that place to get those neons fixed for whatever reason or another. But it's ok...I'm not bitter or anything...rarrrrr...

I like taking kids to school. Why you may ask? It reminds me that I do not have to go to that torturous Hell of a place also known as school. Yes...I drop them off and then laugh giddily all the way back home praising God and shouting to the Heavens and all who will hear that I am free. FREE I TELL YOU FREE!!!!! However, some parents still make me highly ill. Yes....the people who think they own the parking lot and run it accordingly. When I went to pick Brent up from school, there was a car blocking the entrance way and some girl was on a cell phone. Now any normal person would have moved. But do you think they did? Of course not. Their car looked like it had been hit by a train and they needed to sue somebody so they had their eyes set on me. Cellphone bimbo kept looking at me every two seconds and giving me looks like if I said anything she was going to come bash my brains out with the phone. Of course I cannot resist controversy, so I rolled my window down and said,"YES I'M LOOKING AT YOU NOW GET OFF THE PHONE OR JUST GET IN THE CAR AND GET OUT OF THE WAY!" to which she responded with sucking on her teeth (which she should have eaten, however I was in a good mood.) and rolling her eyes and getting in the car. I would make such a good mom. :D

I always have the best of intentions. I intended to like/date/marry someone no more than 7 years older than me and no less than 3 years younger than me. and I amazed myself by extending my "acceptible age limit" to 30 for Darren Hayes, but that doesn't count because he's just....he's just Darren okay! Then there was Christoph. I never planned on going for him. I actually forced myself not to. That was because I was told he was 42 and that was just disgusting. However, once I found out he was 36, going from 42 to 36 didn't seem so bad and his personality and good looks on top of that.....well....I had the best of intentions didn't I? Oh well...more stuff to ponder as I venture out into life.

I got Avril Lavigne's CD because I promised Pam I would. That and she wasn't going to leave me alone until I did. But it's ok Pam you're still great and it's a good CD so it all works out. That's it...I have nothing else left to say. I wouldn't say it if I did anyway just to aggravate you.

Another day and nothing to do but waste it sitting here for hour upon hour doing unscrupulous things. There's no telling how long I have been on here and would not even be posting if it weren't for the constant nagging of my friends who have nothing better to do but sit on pins and needles waiting until I say what I have to say as if I don't do that already when we talk ALL FREAKING NIGHT. I'm just kidding constant nagging friend. :) Yes...It is 4 A.M. and here I sit still. Resisting the urge to actually get exercise or sleep of some sort. I am waiting to turn into a vegetable. It shall happen soon, I can feel it. At least Jell-o if not a vegetable, although the latter of the two is more likely.

I hate it when men pretend they know what they are doing. They seldom do know what they're doing even in such meticulous things as putting the toilet seat down. ("Did you put the seat down?" "yes" "Oh really, then why is it up?" "Oh...um....I left the window up. There must be a strong draft that came and threw the seat up. Yes...that's right.") I had an appointment to take my car to the dealership to find out why the Service Engine Soon light decided to grace me with its presence. I told the guy what I was there for and he told me to make myself "comfortable". I was anything but comfortable. Besides one salesman trying to flirt with me and grabbing my foot/talking to me/and whatever else he felt like doing at that moment in time, I was forced to watch AMC because some big slobbering mass known as an overweight male had the remote and looked like he would rather be buried with that remote than let me have it. So I watched the black and white story of some horny man named...oh I forget his name...anyway....he was engaged to some foreign princess named Taji. These two had obviously never met because he had no idea she didn't speak English and she had no idea he didn't speak whatever the heck it is she spoke. (I personally think it was a made up language but that's just me.) So every night he would sneak into her hotel room and proclaim his love to her, but it was always to the wrong person. Usually it was her skyscraper bodyguard who chased him around the room yelling,"JW;OEIJFA;WOEIFENOGIHJOIWE!!!!" Somehow he hated the translator who was only trying to help him and kept telling her to leave. Anyway....to make a long story short, they moved the wedding day up because he was obviously too horny to wait and she waited on him hand and foot and they proclaimed their undying love to each other 24:7 even though neither one knew what the other was saying. She started to learn English and was taught Women's rights by her English teacher. Then she goes on a "You are my footstool" kick and treats him like he's the maid. At this point I nodded off only to be awakened by the beanpole service man informing me that after an hour of enduring such tube torture, they had no clue what was wrong with my car because they "did not have the technology necessary to read the codes to check the light." WELL THEN WHAT TOOK A FREAKING HOUR?! And if that wasn't enough, it's going to cost $220 to fix the dent in my bumper from that wretched animal I hit. If I had known it had cost that much, I would have gotten it out of the ditch, thrown it back in the road, and proceeded to back up and run over it countless times, each time laughing more hysterical and diabolical than the last. That is all I have to say on that subject...

I hate telemarketers. I really do. I have settled on picking up the phone and stealing Pam's line of,"No thanks, I already have a penguin." or, being the mysterious person I am, say it in German!,"Nein danke, ich hast das pinguin schon." and then hang up as quickly as possible. Of course this causes the occasional accidental hang-up's on Christoph, but one must do what one must do.

Well, aside from taking 3 kids to school, I did nothing else but sleep and eat. Ahh, the good life. Laziness...the forgotten virtue. I majored in it. I should know.

I hate technology. It is useful for nothing but building things to ruin people's lives and the rest of the world. (If you don't believe me, ask Cyberdyne about the T-800 model coming out soon.) I woke up this afternoon to find that my computer has lost it's mind...or harddrive, same thing. Well, it probably has. The power light comes on, but that's it. That puts a dent in my day because now I cannot make myself temporarily deaf blaring music through my wonderful speakers. I looked for the nearest sledgehammer to bash it with, but alas I could find none. All I could even find was a few sheets of paper and a straw. Of course the straw was the most obvious choice since the paper would take more damage that it would give. (I think computers are immune to paper cuts.) So I proceeded to stab the bugger repeatedly with a straw. The computer was not amused.....neither was I....I think it should die a horrible painful death by burning. I would make that happen, but all my stuff is in it that I need. If it does not comply by 12 A.M. eastern standard time, I am going to take it in the back yard, strap C4 to it, and blow it into Osama Bin Laden's back yard where he is trying to find a nice cozy place to use the loo, and it will hit him in the head, killing him on impact. That is my way of eliminating two threats at once. I could talk about this all night....but unfortunately, to keep you interested (or just reading) I must move on.

In case you are wondering why I am missing two days of post, there is indeed an explanation. I consider Friday night "Unacceptable boredom night". It was 12:30 in the morning and I, of course, was bored stiff. Brent was on so I asked him if he wanted to go creat mass panic, chaos, and mayhem around town. Of course he did. I picked him up and we went to Wal-Mart. He tried on Halloween masks while I read every available bumper sticker. He finally decided on the one that looked like the doped up masked guy from Scary Movie and put a purple velvet pimp looking hat on top of it. He then proceeded to go up to the video screens and jump back and forth at the cameras. It was funny for the first 30 minutes. After an hour I just left him. We came home and watched Terminator 2 (the greatest movie ever btw) and then went to Hardee's. He fell asleep in the car but the moment the soda entered his mouth from the straw he was more hyper than I ever thought feasible to imagine. He found the voice settings on my laptop and for over an hour amused himself by making the computer say,"I'm gay." over and over. He reminds me so much of Till. We ended up going to bed around 8:30 and getting back up around 4:30. Only because my mother's lovely voice was screaming over the speakerphone at very loud decibles and one must either get up or go deaf.

I have this really good friend that I keep losing track of for whatever reason. She has two kids and she's really really cool. Just in case you didn't know that yet. We stayed up until 4 A.M. talking about how sexy Christoph was and how much of a turn on his voice was and then her husband walked in the room and she said,"did I say it was what I wanted in a man? I meant what YOU wanted....yes....that's what I meant." Everyone knows they want him. It's just a fact by now. MUAHAHAHA. Sorry...moving on....

What is it about me and people doing things to make me wreck? I would type out the whole story...but I don't really feel like it. So I'll give you the short version. I was forced to hit a dog and I almost hit another car when I tried to pass it and it slammed on the brakes for some unknown reason. The dog was one big mofo so of course there is now a dent in my beautiful Eclipse. I am not amused. But still...life goes on....we stumble through it and what not...we are only truly content when we die, but we deal with what we are given in this sort of weird twisted fate...

~~~"Can I castrate you? and hang it on the door as a wreath for all to see?"

I can't believe it. The impossible has happened. I am actually out of sarcastic comments and things to say. It's the end of the world as we all know it! Our existance that has been hanging in the balance has been dropped from it's tiny thread and soon we shall be no more! OK, excuse my mental breakdown. Now it is time to get to business...

Life is boring. That's all it is. I can't make it exciting right now because all it is....once again.....is boring. I do feel, however, that it's going to pick up again once the fur hits the fan with "former friends". I have a lot of those. But I care pas. Otherwise I couldn't have put "former" in front of "Friends" and would still be kissing their hairy butt to this day. But everybody knows that's not me. So....again I say.....I have more "former friends" than friends.

I need a job. I need a hobby. I need SOMETHING. Life in a house may have been great for the Little House on the Prairie people...but me......I was not made for this. I need to travel and see the world and right now the only world I'm seeing is the one on my atlas. But soon....soon I SHALL TRIUMPH! MUAHAHAHAA

If you've never seen Terminator 2 I suggest you do so. The only thing that strikes more fear into my heart than anything is seeing a giant, massive, red-eyed, metal mass with a large gun and almost indestructible endoskeleton. The game is no different. I almost wet myself everytime I see one coming and somehow manage to shoot aimlessly while screaming,"DIE! DIE!" only to realize I am apparently talking about myself. I go through more lives quicker than Brent goes through Wild Berry Skittles. That's why I must start my batallion for the machine war NOW. That way I'll have enough men together and trained that I can send them out to kill them for me and I won't have to hide in a corner and do nothing but wet myself and hope that shocks them to death. Yes....being brave is a hard job, but someone has to do it.

I have nothing else to say. I really had nothing to say to start with except "cheese poofies". Yes.....that is STILL funny. That's what I'm going to call my first album. "cheese poofies". The name of my second album you might ask? Well that would be "The Return of the Cheese Poofies" of course. And so on and so on.
Ah yes...contentness....such a great thing. 'Til next time. (and the morning.....____) haha, Lori.

~~~"Screw you guys I'm goin' home"

Have you ever stuck your face outside a car window going 65 M.P.H? If not, I highly reccommend it. To feel the wind catching under your lips making them flap back as if you've had some sort of plastic sugery gone bad is exhilerating. Yes....the good life. I want to live fast-paced. Something dangerous. I've decided to try and make it as a stunt driver if I can't go into the FBI. Or maybe go ahead and get my own batallion of men together for the machine war coming up in 2027. Either way, I've got a lot of work cut out for me. I have nothing else left to say for once......'tis all for now.....

There are days when one wakes up and is a completely different person alltogether. If you have never experienced such a rush, I suggest you try it. Since my deja vu sense is tingling, I get the feeling I've said this before. Oh well...I'm saying it again. I like the new me. It's invigorating. If you don't...I don't care. I probably don't like you either. If I do, I won't soon enough. Point being...you are about to get advice from Dr. Thril....second cousin to Dr. Phil and twice as good. Do not try and make a relationship work if you are the only one trying to make it work. Just give up and save yourself the trouble. If they're willing to work on it, it's a different story. If not....bag the bugger and move on.

Trust is a very important thing. If you don't have it, you don't have a lot. However, people have to earn your trust. Once they have it, they shouldn't abuse it. If they do, then they must start all over.

Even the good things come to an end....life is not a movie. Deal with it.

If you don't know what you believe, you will believe anything.

You must have a reason to reason....if not....you have no reason to be reasoning.

Life is what you make it. Not how you take it. Screw that quote. Who cares how you take it? Take it and throw it back if you don't like it I say.

Dream the impossible. Realists are the 9-5 workers driving the old pick-up trucks and living in the run down trailor parks swimming in debt.

Opportunity never knocks at all. It merely passes by. When it does, that's when you rip the door off the hinges and tackle it in the street.

No one is looking out for you. Look out for yourself (and falling objects)

Miracles happen. Don't let anyone tell you they don't.

Live a little......only then will you have a life.

I can be seen on Oprah every Tuesday at 4 P.M. Eastern time. I'm the bald guy with the mustasche who looks exactly like Dr. Phil. However, I am not. I am his double. That is all....

Editor's note: I do not want to post tonight. I bargained with another friend who I did not think was up to the challenge. I lost. That sucks....because now I must post...

I did nothing today. And how do we spell nothing boys and girls? B-O-R-E-D-O-M. Yes.....that's right. I did manage to somehow completely tire myself out by doing as little as driving to Wal-Mart. I felt like a fat man in an ice cream shop. Running around wanting all the goodies and then all of a sudden, when you are so close, the heart attack comes along and you die two inches away from a double scoop of moosetracks. Ok, so maybe it wasn't that bad. But it was bad. I faded in and out of extreme tiredness and should have caved in hours ago. However my obsessive-compulsive obsession to be nocturnal continues and that is stronger than my need for sleep.

Men are fickle, vile, disgusting, blood thirsty, energy sucking rats sent to us by Satan to destroy us in the worst way possible. We fall in love with them. Yes....'tis true. He will use any means necessary to diguise them as normal human beings. They are not. They are Demons! Straight from Hell!!!! Well....I don't have problems or anything. and I take it back.........not all men are fickle, vile, disgusting, blood thirsty, energy sucking rats sent to us by Satan to destroy us in the worst way possible. Take Christoph for example. He's a good guy ;) A little weird at times....but good nonetheless. The rest of the male population (except for Brent and the best friend and bodyguard and confidant I've ever had as far as guys are concerned....Josh.) are pigs. Complete with big stomachs, pinkish-red skin, big noses, and oinking sounds. Oh yeah....they have hooves and corkscrew tails too. You just don't know it. So why am I bitter at men? I'm not...
Maybe one day I will change my mind...but as for now...no.

I hate being bothered when I don't feel good. Especially when all I am is tired and I want to stare at the T.V. like a mindless drone with food hanging halfway out of my mouth and scrunched up into the "couch tater" position UNDISTURBED!! Is that too much to ask for? Just one moment of silence while I forget what I was doing, why I was doing it, and who I was in the first place. People always seem to interrupt my television Eutopia to ask the mind-numbing question,"What's wrong?" Well...what's wrong is YOU'RE BOTHERING ME!!!!!!!!!! But of course I have to be nice and politely smile and say,"oh...nothing really. I'm just tired." Yes....TIRED OF YOU BOTHERING ME!!!!! Do I seem bitter? Cause I feel it. I feel the love...it's all around me.

Older men are great. They are not trying to be "one of the boys" or figuring out what makes them tick (or doesn't) and they just have it all together in general. Granted, 36 is a little bit out there, but hey. As long as they don't look or act 36, right? Right. Now with that said....there's only one old guy I know I can stand and that would be Christoph. (Sorry babe....I hate to call you old...but to me...you are.) Ok wait I take that back...I know several. But they all know each other. Maybe that's why I like them. Ok anyway that's not the point. Never date boys. Date men....when the boys are grown.....THEN date them. This has been your dating advice from Heather, the questioneer to the people. That will be 375 dollars and 95 cents please. I accept Visa, Mastercard, and Discover. No checks....cash preferred. Buy 2 answers, get one of them free!

Well....that's all for now. May I also add that after months and months of work, I have FINALLY beaten 007: Agent Under Fire. I would think after all that I would get a really amazing ending. WRONG! It sucked and it left you hanging. If you have the game for the ending.....you will be sorely disappointed. You should just save your money and buy my merchandise instead :)

The human emotion is an evil, twisted thing. Just when you think you feel one way, you are lead to feel quite another. Then confusion takes over, followed by mass panic, and then just when you finally figure things out, it's all over. You have succumbed to Death's icy grip. Yes, Shakespeare had it all wrong. It is better to have never loved at all so you never know what you are missing. My advice to anyone who loves someone....get out while you can. Escape before it's too late. Before everything you know runs rampid into the dark abyss of nothingness never to see the light of day again. Run, I tell you, run!

You will have to excuse my insane babblings that come from where I do not know or wish to visit. All I know is it felt good to say.

Children are quite interesting are they not? They have the ability to get on one's nerves so much that one would rather be confined to a 4 by 6 cubicle doing sedentary motion 24 hours a day than spend 2 seconds with them. Maybe it is just me, but I for one cannot stand children. Especially babies. When I was a child I could not even stand myself. (sometimes that is still the case.) Just looking at them annoys me. Yesterday, however, I found the first child I have ever found adorable in my entire life. I thought I had gone mad. However I did come to the conclusion that my fascination with the girl does not count because of the fact she was computer generated. Yes....that is right. The only child I like isn't even real. Well, that's typical for me isn't it?

Dreams are an interesting thing. The only thing I have not yet been able to figure out because none of mine ever make sense...but I guess it's allowed 'cause I never make sense. In this dream last night, I was in a movie in London doing all kinds of special effects for some movie. My friend Pam and I walked in the door to an Irish pub (apparently you walk through a door and go from London to Ireland) and we had to lay on our stomachs and crawl up an incline to get into a vast theater. We stayed a second and then started to go out the back door. That's when I woke up to my mother's incoherent muttering of some sort, to which I nodded in agreement and went back to sleep. I love weekdays. They are the only days I am not bothered by such domestic disturbance.

Well....I am completely out of thought processes, so I believe I shall retire here....

~~~"Dead?! What do you mean he's dead?!" "His spirit is gone but his stench remains. Does that answer your question?!"

The German language is the shiz-nit. I never realized how expressive it is. It may sound disgusting, but underneath all the sounds of a man dying lies pure beauty. I have surrounded myself in the world of German music. Mostly Rammstein....occasionally others that have grown on me. I am obsessed....I care pas. I seem to have a dire need to do things no one else is doing at the moment. Ah, the strive for uniqueness is a long on-going quest that never ends. Hence the name of the blog...what wonderfully screwed up lives we lead indeed.

I love realizations. They are the very source of my existance. Well...sort of. Have you ever awakened one day only to find yourself really looking at the world for the first time and finding it nowhere near how you had been seeing it? In one instant you become a completely different person and the rush is more intense than anything imaginable. Nothing bothers you anymore. I used to be upset when people didn't like me, when they refused to acknowledge my presence as a human being existing in this mass expansion of matter we call a world. Like everyone else, I got very upset when teased or ridiculed. (which in my case was often). Yes...one day I woke up and realize this world is down the loo....never to return. It has been kidnapped by the dark one himself. Except for a close few, no one is going to be there for me. Many will try to take advantage of me, many will try to hurt me, and so on and so on. The old me would be troubled by this. The new me doesn't care. I have my friends and they mean everything to me. It is your choice to be happy. You are not happy because you choose not to be. It's all how you look at it. I will not live through this life anymore as if I am waiting for a genie to appear and yell "poof" to make my wishes come true. There is only one life to live. Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved. According to Darren Hayes anyway. He should have been a philosopher. He could have gone places. (Not that I'm saying he hasn't already because I rather enjoy his music and his looks and all of him frankly.) God gives chances but we must see them. We have to realize when they come to us so we can take hold of them and live the life he meant us to live. Most of us do not do that. I didn't used to. But screw the old way of thinking and the old way of living. I have a list of everything I want to do, everything I want to achieve and I will do it. You know why? Because I can.

So....why am I informing you of all this? No reason. The only thing I did today was watch "Monsters, Inc" (very good btw) and I needed to write more than that. But still....it is very rare a person gets the same chance twice. What are you going to choose?

Editor's note: All blogs can rot and burn in Hell for eternity for their desire to erase long posts without warning. With that said...let us move on....

"Crossroads" is a dull movie. Watching it is like digesting stale potato chips with mold forming on the edges. It is mundane, pointless, and just wrong all together. It is in dire need of humor (and a plot) so here is my list of what I would have done differently (that is, if I couldn't change the whole plot alltogether)

1.) A reason needed to be given as to why none of them are friends anymore, not that anyone really cares. Preferably something like Mimi liked a guy who liked Lucy. Mimi threw a ketchup packet down in the cafeteria. Lucy stepped on it, causing the ketchup packet to explode, sending her careening down the aisle like a teenager who's just gotten a permit. Something to that effect.

2.) If Lucy was such a rejected reject, she needed to look like one. Complete with facial hair, cat glasses, nappy hair, etc. Her lab partner needed no extra work seeing as how he was all of those.

3.) The whole "Can I hear the list again?" was...how do I put it...gay? Yes, that shall work. Just as they were beginning to fog up the windows, the Trojan Man from the condom commercial should have burst through the window giving them a lesson in sex-ed, scaring them to the point of not disgusting everyone by doing each other.

4.) Ben needed to look like he could have murdered someone. Point said...he needed to come complete with green mohawk hair, nose ring, tattoos over 95% of his body, etc.

5.) In the karaoke contest, Lucy should have been even more scared than Mimi. After all she is the rejected reject. Ben should have shown his sensitive side by getting up there, green mohawk hair and all, and serenading us with a little "I Will Always Love You"....slightly off key.

6.) Lucy should have bashed her mother over the head with the picture frame when she was told she was a mistake. Then she should have tied her up inside the piano never to be found again.

7.) During the scene when Lucy decides she would rather do Ben than the lab partner....I have two words.....trojan....man...

8.) Add onto the ending. Have them dig up the box again when they are in their 70's. Lucy makes the statement of "Oh! My back!" during which point Mimi decides to relieve her of her pain by hitting her in the back of the knees with her shovel and making her fall into the hole. Mimi and Kit proceed to cover Lucy over with dirt.

9.) I find Pink an atrocious color. I know some people who like it and that is fine for them....but for me....I hate Pink. Lucy wore so much pink you could have changed the title to "Pinkroads" and been driving in a pink pinto or something to that effect. That being said reminds me....the car....definately should have been a pinto. Definately. I give this film..........no love. What is the point of me rambling on about my hatred of this movie? The point is.....there is no point. If you feel otherwise then keep it to yourself and tell no one. Your opinion matters like the 3 year old moldy chip dip that goes with the 3 year old stale moldy potato chips. Moving on now...

I'm not a racist. I'm really not. I hate everyone equally. But it's not like it's not warranted. They always give me a reason to hate them. I'm not a bitter person. Really I'm not. There is nothing here for me. I must escape. I must break free from this twisted mass insanity.....this....reality. There is nothing but rules and regulations, lines that must be followed and paths that must be taken. In dreams...this is not so. I shall go there. You can visit me. Just look for the Charter building nearest you and find the little white room with the padded walls. You think it is a bad thing....to me........it is wonderful.

~~~"Go big girl whatchu gon' do?"

Your lovely postest with the mostest has returned to fulfill all your boredom needs with.....what else....more boredom. I shall have to catch you up on 3 days worth of things in one day, so therefore I will list the days and go down them for your simple-minded pleasure.

September 15: Stayed up all night.....again. Can't....function.....much.....longer......I was honestly afraid I wouldn't get up, and missing modeling class would just be the same as blowing up a hydrogen bomb in my backyard. It would be too catastrophic to handle. So point being....I got no sleep and went to Greenville a walking zombie. I did wake up however when I noticed the hot guys in my class. All 3 of them.....but still.....3. mmmm...::drool:: I mostly hung out with one guy named David. He's in dire need of Ritalin, but still extremely hot enough to faint over nonetheless, which is probably why he's a model. ANYWAY...I had to stand up in 3 inch heels most of the day. Thought I was going to die. Worked on poses and walking and all that crap. Said words in a retarded voice for 30 minutes to David's extreme amusement. He's quite a funny character. I mean that in both a humorous and odd way. Couldn't make it home. Got lost about 15 times and stayed in a hotel overnight even though I was only 2 counties away from home. About 30 minutes away for those of you who have no sense of time or direction.

September 16: Woke up about 2:30 A.M. and couldn't go back to sleep. Amused myself by watching cartoons the rest of the night and commenting to myself about how gay they all were. Left about 6:00 A.M. and came home in a very bad mood. Suddenly walking more upright than ever. The impossible has been achieved. Fell asleep again, all night this time.

Today: My Son's birthday. Ah, such a wonderful time. Too bad his Daddy has head trauma in Germany and couldn't see him. ::sigh:: But there's always next year right? At least he did wish him a Happy Birthday and he did indeed have one. I'm proud of him :) Saw my own dad for a while today. Commented on how stupid the news crew was. They had this big sign up giving a description of a car that had chrome RIMS and instead, for all to witness their stupity...it said "Chrome Windows". Who in the heck has chrome windows? How difficult a mistake is that to catch? Rims.....windows....how hard is it? May I once again say I do not like being asked to do things I do not like to do. I do not personally enjoy walking myself into a school that I have hated all my life and be forced to reminisce on the pure HELL of it. I also do not like being asked to call my father for favors. He is not the supreme ruler of the universe and if you are stupid enough to run from the police then you SHOULD be thrown in jail.....screw your opinion, it does not matter after that point. Even I know this, but still they try. Well.....did you enjoy this? I didn't think you did. I must say out of all my posts, this one has to be the most consistently boring and pointless. I need a hobby.

HEY HEATHER IT'S PAM! HAHAHAHHAHA....ok sorry...i had to..


As all of you smart people (I say that with the utmost of sarcasm) have probably figured out by now, that writing up there is by my friend and cohort Pam. She is the Viceroy of the nocturnal realm in case I somehow get lost on the way to the bathroom and disappear never to return again. After all.....SOMEONE has to run the night. Of course we stayed up all night again (no sleeping on the job) and proceeded to try our best to figure out the German language. Some of it has been figured out, some still remains a mystery. But we have reached a conclusion. Screw that. Who cares why you're saying it? Just listen to German music and read the translations until it clicks in your head. That is why, tontos, I am the Brain, and you are not. MUAHAHAAHAHAHAHA. Sorry...triumph moment.

Don't you hate being awakened by your parental figure trying to show you something? It's the most annoying thing that could ever possibly happen besides getting your nose stuck in a tissue dispenser because you were too lazy to pull one out. When I wake up in the morning, I feel as if I have done my part. After that, just leave me alone and let me wake up for crying out loud or I'll bite your freakin' head off. She's known me for 18 years....18 years I've been that way.....DOES NOTHING CLICK ANYMORE? Maybe there's a blown fuse somewhere....hmm....Note to self: Check for blown fuses in light switch.

May I just make the statement that my mother is 50 years old. She does not look 50, but is 50 nonetheless. Her 37 year old friend got the idea in her head that she should live a little. So we kidnapped my mother. Yes...kidnapped I say. This is how the list of places we were going progressed over the evening:

8:05 Go to Christian singles group and mingle.

8:37 Go to club where there is no smoking allowed and no alcohol served.

8:42 Decided to look like major idiot on radio by telling extremely sexy radio DJ we were going to "look at men's noses" (that is a major inside joke. Do not ask. I repeat: DO NOT ASK)

8:43 Found out club was for teenies. Moved on.

9:01 Begin search for club without alcohol.

10:17 Begin search for club without smoke, alcohol allowed.

10:51 Begin search for open club.....who cares what kind

11:03 Find club with she-males. Comment on cardboard shadow cutouts of women with sagging boobs and mention how they need a miracle bra to anyone within a 5 mile radius.

11:47 Return to the Big G.

11:49 I hide in the backseat while Mother's friend tries to ask policeman friend of mine if he knows where we can party. Finally stood up in the backseat and pretended to be in a drunken stupor. Enjoyed it.

11:51 Pull up at a bar. Yell in redneck accents about how they were missing out on good women like us. Mother chose to hide while turning weird shades of purple. Could not understand why.

12:07 Enter yard. Immediately leave yard again to go to Taco Bell.

1:32 Write post for your reading enjoyment. I have to be up very very soon to get ready for modeling class so if you don't like what I wrote here....I don't care. This is good sleep I'm wasting. Between the three of us, we did manage to talk about one thing and one thing only the whole time. I would tell you, but alas this post must remain R-rated. Haha. I will give you a hint though.....neun. There....I see the gerbil spinning! woah look at him go!!

Pam, "Emma", and I are the supreme dictators of the nocturnal realm. (Dear Abby, I have this friend, "Emma", and she has an obsession with ducks. Should I tell her she is different, or just accept her as she is? KIDDING!) I mainly talked with Paul, Christoph, Pam, and Emma. Paul and Christoph retired the earliest because the extremity of their issues was too great to ignore. Much like me, but I ignore the voices and continue on my journey. Around 5:30 A.M. I became obsessed with the word "cheez poofies". I began to repeat it countless times, each time laughing more and more like a hyena on a mixture of Morphine and laughing gas. (Or Till's gas minus the nauseating odor.) Even still, the word cheez poofies is hilarious. 18 hours later I still find it funny.

I went to piano today and got to meet the relative no one likes. Lucky me. Of course I was added to her big gigantic list of people she doesn't like when I tried to be nice to her and she wanted to be mean back. That gave me enough reason in my twisted mind to throw all sense of niceness out the window and I proceeded to be the queen of evil to her. Then she decided she wanted to be my friend. Too late....I was already on a roll. While in my mean streak I got to looking around seeing if she had stolen anything when I came upon a baby Jesus on top of my great-grandmother's television. I thought there was something odd about it, but couldn't place what it was until I noticed its mouth. The corners sloped downward into a point so it looked like he had fangs. Since when did Jesus become Wiccan and vant to suck your blood? For crying out loud HE'S PERFECT! MAKE HIM LOOK PERFECT!

I hate liars. Absolutely cannot stand them. Especially liars who swear they're right. Shouldn't they have been run over by something by now? ::sigh:: I'm really not an evil person. Really. I recently read a post by a girl who claims she "did the nasty German stylie" with Christoph. That opening comment right there should let you know she is about 8 and is as clueless as the drummer on Josie and the Pussycats. (I would put the name but I can't remember if she's Mel or Val. Who even cares you know what I'm trying to say.) Anyway, she went into very intimate details about their night together and they were obviously all false for reasons I cannot disclose. I told Christoph about it....he did not find it as funny as I did.

I downloaded Kraftwerk's version of "Das Modell". I thought that since they hated Rammstein's version, theirs must be out of this world or something. I was right. It was so bad they sent it to another planet to die a painful, lonely death. They hated Rammstein's version because they are jealous. JEALOUS I SAY! Eifersucht runs rampant in their veins. If you do not believe me, download the song. I rest my case.

On a final note, my friend Lori is the queen of sarcasm. My goal in life is to be just like her, but alas, I am still a Patowan compared to her greatness. Even though she refuses to believe it, her blog is much better than mine. Agree with me.....go to www.hippityhoppity.blogspot.com

~~~"I want it fast enough for me to do something stupid in"

Another day and what to say? I slept for most of it because Pam and I are nocturnal and we just simply cannot help it. I apparently have issues with myself around 3-6 A.M. and talk about things and say things I would not otherwise normally say. But nobody knows what to expect from me and woe to the one who has not been forewarned. Been awake for about 4 or 5 hours now and I'm ready to go back to bed. I have issues beyond my knowledge apparently. Christoph is doing better, but still thinks the purple fairies and blue bunnies are after him. He now has an attraction to Morphine. Thank you for your prayers. I talked with him today while Richard went on unaware that he was calling me long distance from his phone. Khira told on him so he shoved the phone down his pants and dared Richard to go get it. I'm starting to wonder if Germans are from Mars, everyone else is from Earth. Addison just told me he has his own website. GO TO IT! NOW!!!!!!! http://people.clemson.edu/~ahamric

On another note, "Ich Will" is a very good song. Actually every Rammstein song is a very good song. I think they must put hidden messages in their music...I've never liked German before now. Who knew I had it in me? I tried listening to other German bands and found them quite horrible. I have come to the conclusion I am obsessed. Wow, that sucks. I am now a teeny. God, save me.

I have the interesting problem of missing people. Not missing them as in wishing they were here, but missing them as in, well, missing them. People call me and don't get me. I call them back and don't get them. I go to see them and they're not there because they've gone to see me. I go back home to see them and they've gone back home to see me. It's a big never ending cycle. But on the subject of missing people, I miss Christoph. I miss all the guys actually. Even ::gasp:: Flake! I never thought I would hear myself say it. It is official: I have lost my mind.

Came to a conclusion earlier in the day. Screw college for now. I must live life and then go to my normal 9-5 desk job as a profiler in the FBI. While quite a hella cool job, still the last thing on the list. I will definately go to college in the future. I would rather die than ask someone everyday,"Would you like to supersize that for only 32 cents more?" for the rest of my life.

~~~"Eezn't one of zee tellehtohbeez geh?" "I zink eetz zee red one.....TEENKY VEENKY!!"