MadameBastet-Firing-Neurons

Blah Blah Blippity Blah

Or as the great Holly J would say
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck!
Yep, that about sums up my Tuesday.
Today was supposed to be a day of
hardcore science studying...

...and speaking of cores, did you hear the one
about the core of the earth? It's supposed to be
10,000 degrees in there. I say, well how do you
know? Has anyone actually ever been to the core
of the earth? I thought not.

Science is more interesting than math, but
not by much. I've entered the extremely dry
world of organic chemistry today. Yawn.
Had an argument with my mother, whom I'm
convinced has been abducted by space aliens.
Ever see the movie "Invasion of the Body Snatchers"?
Seriously. I'm like, woman, who are you?
Bring back my mother, and then we'll talk.

I haven't gotten out of my pajamas all day.
I'm sorry to frighten all my blog readers this way.
But what's the point? Between science and another
flare- up of PMS (I told ya it started earlier and would
haunt me for days) I see no reason to get dressed.
I see no reason to live.
Haha!

I have my registration appointment to register
for classes for the Fall. I just need my tuition money.
Money, money, money. It's always about fucking money.

Zoe must be as bored and full of ennui as I am,
for earlier she was on the living room carpet,
literally twirling her plump little body in circles, chasing her tail.
I said, "Oh Zoe, are you doing an imitation of mommy?"
I broke down and took an Ultracet. I feel like I'll
be shooting heroin by 10:00pm tonight.
Next I'll be featured on that "Intervention" show.
Except when I walk into the room, only the cameramen
will be there.

Ba da-dum. Oh yes! I do self-pity too! And well!
Seriously folks, I'll be here all week.
Pop in any time for a possible shot of
me on the proverbial pity-pot.

I have it really good, but right now
my brain says, "Poor you."
Poor me. Why is everything such a struggle.
Why am I in pain, why am I alone, why do I have to
take these fucking inane tests!!!!!!
Oh! I am Sisyphus, pushing that rock up the
damned hill again.
I am nothing, if not dramatic. I wanted to be an actress
when I was in Drama in high school
but my parents nixed that idea. My audition for Drama
was a scene from The Diary of Anne Frank.
Even then, I was a serious little chick. Yeah well, I'm
still an actress...I just don't get paid for it. And ya still can't
take the drama and trauma out of me yet!
Running all this week: Camille!

My poor sister-in-law slipped on her porch stairs
in Atlanta and broke her ankle. So she and my brother
aren't coming out tomorrow. They were coming to visit for a week.
I'm bummed. Earlier in the summer I was thinking of
going to visit them; I'd still like to go....of course I could
always time it around the Church show, haha.
Yeah, there's always an ulterior motive, isn't there.
The plane fares are nuts though. Money again!

I got my hair done yesterday people.
It looks awesome. I'm just so sorry you can't
see how truly awesome my hair looks. I have
more hair than about 4 people combined. Really,
if I had a dime for every time a stylist said,
"You have SO much hair" I wouldn't be bitching
about money. It's a hassle, really. But my stylist
is a goddess who manages to straighten it, tame it, and
highlight it until it just looks well, awesome.
So here I am, dragging around the house, my face a wreck
(SK said no make-up - and this is what you get - would he
want to see THIS every day? Methinks not), my will to live
waning with each passing hour, trying to accept the fact my
mother's brain has been hijacked by aliens, my great fear of
running outside in my pajamas trying to score some crank
because I took an Ultracet...
but I have really frackin' awesome hair.
If you see me on Cops, thrashing about, swearing, in a yellow
floral nightgown, trying to bite a cop's hand, yelling and screaming
"I had no idea that place was a meth lab!" make sure and note
my totally awesome hair.

I am now considering eating the entire planet
as I am that hungry.
And so, these are the days of my sad little life
right now.
Someone knocked on my door, but eerily, no one was there.
I'm not making this up. I mean they used the knocker, and knocked
really loudly and I was at the door within 10 seconds and nothing
and no one was there.
Maybe it was my dad. He blew out the bulb next to my bed the
other night. Maybe he's discovered a new way to say "Hi!"
Hi ho, from the Other Side. Knock knock knockin' on D's door...

Is that fucking World Cup STILL going on?

Photo Credit: Hitlercats.com - Yes, someone had to do it. Find cats that look like Hitler. It shouldn't be funny, but damn it is REALLY funny.