Nothing To Say, and No Time To Say It

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June 25, 2004 - 6:37 AM

Quest for Feet

Blonde girl in front of me inna blue suit and white pointy shoes. She has a nice ass. I am SO the opposite of her except to be completely opposite I should be a black girl and really ugly. If we were in a Chicken Ranch line up we�d only need a freckled cream complected red head and a petite Asian and a brown sugar sweetheart. to complete our sexual variety smorgasbord

Blonde girls all dressy bussnissy with her hair up and im all jeans and slipper and messy hair and fake prada purse and round thighs and big ass. If she looked into a funhouse mirror she might see me.

There�s a 15 minute wait so I am writing this by hand with the knowing I�ll be all surly having to type this up later .whatev I need to write right now.

The almost healing nickel sized blister looks scary and I almost don�t want to be here because of it. They might loofah it and it will hurt or they might refuse to serve me. What if it gets infected?

Okay, I�m in the massage chair except for my feet as they are in hot bubbly blue water. She is taking off my old polish with a cold wet cotton ball. The contrast between the hot on one foot and the cold on the other is waking me up and clearing my busy head.

So busy today I got worried.

Out of the 15 or so chairs in this joint they put me next to my funhouse mirror friend. The nice assed blonde. Her voice is girlie�la accenty�and now she is being loud giving nail instruction. Lady, they are just Vietnamese�..and they can hear you just fine.

The name of the polish I chose is Red Pink. I think that�s kind of a lame name. It just looks red to me.

This is the most boring crap ever. Why am I even wasting wrist movement on this? I should just listen to my eyepod.

I�m writing in a small blue notebook with a blue pen. Everyone else is reading beat up trash and fash mags or talking on their cell phones. I just want to do something like anything cuz it�s like there�s all this busy anxious shit going on inside me today this week today right now that I can�t seem to shake.

I am a walking Violent Femmes song.

am a coke bottle that got shook up and all that carbonation wanted to spew but the cap isn�t coming off so it just spins and stews and recycles and you can�t get rid of it even though you try to masturbate it away or shop it away or exercise it away or write it away or music it away nothing works.

Then you just feel like afraid the cap will come off or maybe have a small leak and yer gonna be this manic for days in that weird place that makes you wanna do impulsive wrong shit and say stupid things for no reason and get upset and sad cuz its impossible at this point to be fixed. Nothings working. I go for the quick fix every five minutes every second. Then get upset when it doesn�t stay fixed.

At least I haven�t turned to fooding it away. Yet.

Here comes the part where she paints my toenails. I�m gonna watch her now cuz I like this part. The pretty part.

Sorry this sucked. At least it didn�t cost you anything except maybe your eyesight and your valuable time.

I�m not unbreakable.

6 That's so headgear...

previous - next

Axis: Bold As Love - July 01, 2004
Downside - June 30, 2004
random crap---its monday - June 28, 2004
Quest for Feet - June 25, 2004
I Don't Heart Gnats - June 24, 2004

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