Not Quite a Cult of Personality...but I'm Working on It

Hot damn! Another huge hand :)

It just stands to reason that after months of not reading comments, the ones I do read would be a ping-pong match regarding my looks/talents and/or lack thereof. Ouch. I'm wounded to the core, as you can see by my speedy reply.

Seriously, no one likes to hear, or in this case read about how unattractive they are...but then it hit me; yes I was bothered BUT I was also smiling, so uh, probably not the reaction you were hoping for.

*Luckily* I am not a super model or an actress, so my peace of mind does not fluctuate in time with the number on my bathroom scale. I am definitely not a fan of getting old but it's pretty obvious that it's inescapable, so while I will slather on any number of overpriced creams and unguents to keep wrinkles at bay, there’s not a whole lot can be done about it.
If you think pointing out what’s up with my looks is gonna throw me, good luck. I’ve been staring down this visage in the mirror for 68-odd years, believe me I know what’s wrong with this picture. My nose is too big, my eyes are the color of shit and I have a weird dimple that I would be willing to swear I never had before 2011. The only good thing about this mess is my mouth and that’s if by ‘good’ you mean ‘looks like it can suck a dick’, so I really have no illusions about all that.
It doesn’t end there, I’m also riddled with scars, frequent bruises and more tracks than a train yard and...? AND it doesn’t mean shit. I realize it’s not hard for a broad to get laid, if you have a vagina, it’s pretty safe to say that you can get someone to put something in it without too much effort. You may have to lower your standards a bit but yes, even a bitch with a cleft-palate, a bum leg and a hump can get some dick if she really wants it.
I’ve never had to take something less than what I wanted at that particular moment, work situations notwithstanding. True I’ve slept with some winners but that was out of personal stupidity, not lack of options. So if I’m too ugly to be conventionally attractive...wait, what? IT’S MY AMAZING PERSONALITY!?
That’s right, and here I thought they were just after me for my mouth...and they were, just not for the reasons you'd think. That’s what makes it so fucking perfect, I’m obnoxious as shit, but they love me anyway. I routinely say things to friends that would make lesser assholes want to curl up and cry...and they love me anyway. Spending an afternoon with me ensures that you will get running commentary on EVERYTHING (so long as I'm conscious enough to give it), and they love me anyway. I don’t give up the pussy (I DON’T) and very rarely buy the dope, we do theirs...and, that’s fucking right, THEY LOVE ME ANYWAY.
If I could see some ulterior motive on their part, better believe I’d point it out but really, what would it be? They’re using me to not get laid and because they need someone to do up all their drugs...right? I do drive on occasion but not enough to make putting up with me worthwhile and although I have been known to engage in fisticuffs for a cause not mine own, it’s not that frequent. So...?
So now I can rest easy. All this time I was living under the assumption that it was my remarkable good looks keeping everyone in thrall, thank you for offering me the means to discover otherwise. How embarrassing if all they’d been after was some tawdry sex-type action!
Mmm-mmm-mmm, I WILL sleep restfully to-night but only after I’ve anointed my crows feet with the jism of barely legal boys and gargled with their tears. I never said I didn’t have an ulterior motive...did I?
MUAH.

Pssssssst: I don't really gargle with their tears, silly; THAT would be icky.

*Crap. All this reminiscing about boys has made me re-think my decision to avoid Adrian. I had a rather powerful mental image of those damned Black Flag bars on his neck and how much I like to lick them. Or rather, how much I would like to, if I allowed myself...ah fuck it. I'm outta here.


Melody Lee 

680+ Words About Nothing

Shiny Crack Head.

Not too sure how many of you mofos are still coming around to read this shit, especially since my last post leaves you feeling a little dirty...or sticky, as the case may be. Regardless, I shall persevere; secure in the knowledge that I am my own biggest fan and that when you all turn against me (all 4 of you), I will still love myself more than anyone else ever could.
My life is kind of complicated for a person who is so totally apathetic to everything around her and that’s no joke. Sometimes I wish I gave more of a fuck about what’s going on but then I remember that no, I really don’t. Being well informed and active in society is kinda stressful and ultimately unrewarding unless you’re interested in becoming a martyr for some cause that the world at large gives one- tenth of a fuck about. Nah, I’m good.
Who knows what’s in store for me this year, not dead yet so...+1 pour moi. My sole resolution is to use more douchy French words in posts etc, so I can sound exactly like Miss Piggy and/or Pepe Le Pew. And head-butting, I need to do more of that too.
Good news, my rib was NOT cracked as I first suspected, merely bruised and it went away fairly quickly. Some of you will know what the fuck I’m talking about and some of you will not. I guess I could write about it but not now, dear God not now. I don’t have the will power to vomit up a marginally readable post about how I (almost) cracked a rib. Fairly sure you-all have a good idea of how it happened anyway and it’s old news, like a month or more.
And MK...Christ what a cluster fuck that whole thing turned out to be and no, NOT literally. No details, it’s too painful pour moi to re-live BUT he promptly started to annoy the shit out of me (again, not literally). I got rid of him for a minute by dropping his iPhone in the toilet but it didn’t last. I continue to get lame txts and horrifically young-looking photos from one of his *spare phones. Ugh. What kind of tool needs more than one iPhone? I don’t care if he does sell weed, he’s a HS kid, not Chapo Guzman. Dumb.
So THAT was embarrassing, too bad I can’t summon up enough ‘give a fuck’ for it to be an issue. It might seem like I was actually distressed but that’s just my inner attention slut rolling out the red carpet for Le Attention Wagon. Or rolling in horse shit like a slutty black & blonde dog, whichever mental image you prefer. In reality, I thought it was kinda hilarious and totally typical of my circus sideshow existence.
Guns guns and more guns! Casey and I sat down one day and decided that we needed to accumulate a completely senseless amount of weaponry. A lot of it semi-auto. Sigh. He got me a Taurus .45 for Valentine’s Day. How ironic would it be if I get shot with my own V-day gun for a V(ader)-lay indiscretion? I’m innocent, Vader got the worst of that barrage, my virtue is still intact...or it would be if I’d had any of that particular virtue left.

Here is my new gun, being lovingly caressed by my enormous hand, haha. Now you know why I fight like a man, it’s cuz I got the mitts for it.

I'd say it's a bad angle but naw, they're just huge.

And possibly the balls; jury is still out pending gyn-e-co-log-i-cal testimony, hahaha.

xo M.L.
P.S. I’ll be back tomorrow-ish when I’m good and high. Between you, me and Huey Lewis, I’m 200% more amazing when I’m wasted. You can take that to mean that I’m pretty fucking fantastic considering how aaaaaawesome I am in general.
Besides, those black sheets looked like they’d been splattered with 3 jars of Kindergarten paste and I feel a vicious case of PTSD rapidly developing. I’ve been furiously laundering everything in sight and it didn’t even occur here. Ugh, damn straight it didn’t! So gross.
Confused? Check the FB and all will be set to rights...until you realize it wasn't nearly worth the 30 seconds it took to look :)
Happy Monday, Bitches.

Fat Mike's Abduction/Rape victim :)

Wel-cum to the Dark Side

Before the fall. I may never be able to look D. Vader in the face again.

I'm in no way important enough to matter in the scheme of the SOPA blackout, so I'll just toss this up here anyway. Yeah, I'm not completely oblivious, much to my dislike, and do have some clue as to what going on. But as you can see, it hasn't made much difference.

I've been busy doing some good things but mostly bad, bad, bad. Go figure.
I've succeeded in alienating a few more people with my snide observations, pissed off Casey by acting too much like a girl one night and hurt Maniac's feelings by telling him that the best part of him ran down his Mama's leg. I thought it was hilarious, especially when he sniffed, "Words can hurt...puta." So in retrospect I'm thinking he wasn't too torn up about it.
Just sitting here waiting for the misc. pills I took to kick in and make me feel better than...well, better than before. Probably nothing too amazing but if it tamps down some of this restlessness, I'll be happy. No, that's a lie but I'll be happi-ER than I am now, which is nothing to complain about.
I really haven't got it in me to say a lot, it's hot, which is just me as it's something close to 25 degrees and raining outside. I probably stink too, isn't that charming? It's like you can literally smell the substances sweating out of my pores. Not too delightful when you're sick and smell is amplified to the extreme. Yay, the benefits of Heroin addiction, they are vast and varied, aren't they?
Just not feelin' this update, man, like NOT AT ALL. I may have to abandon it and come back later. Yes, that's sounds most excellent, I'll do that now.

Much, MUCH later:

Right, well I still don't feel that great but got the sudden desire to write so here we are. Yes, here. We. Are.
Also doing this to look occupied as I was just informed that the landlord is replacing all bathroom fixtures tomorrow, so I'd best go and scrub the toilet, sink etc. Yeah, that's gonna happen.

Sir, I will NOT and for the following reasons:

1) Toilet is clean i.e. no toilet ring visible i.e. GO FUCK YOURSELF.

2) Cleaning something that is destined for the trash heap is stupid, GO FUCK YOURSELF.

3) I'm not the one who gets drunk and pisses all over the sides of said toilet, GO FUCK...uh-huh, that's right, YOURSELF.

Moving on, I'm about to give a (not so) brief outline detailing something that may have happened last week and you all can comment away because I can almost guarantee that I will not be coming back to so much as glance at it. If that spoils the fun, refer to last 3 words of items 1) & 2).

Under the tremendous strain of not having anything to do, I let myself be coaxed out the door one night by MK and his friend J. I have known them long enough, I suppose, as MK sells weed to Fran's ex roommate, it's all very complicated.
Anyway, I had seen MK from time to time and harmless flirting had taken place. He made overtures, I snarkily shot them down, fun was had by all. Until one night, when I was slumped in front of the TV, suffering the agony of 1000 deaths (New Girl was on and the remote was out of reach), and he called to see if I was bored and wanted to hang out. I was and I did, Casey was out of town for work and any excuse to not work myself, seemed grand. They were down the street, so appeared at my door within minutes.
Now one thing about MK is he can be semi-annoying. Being young, with no sense whatsoever, he likes to flash his money and was doing so that night. I feel that cash is not an accessory and has much better uses, so I casually introduced a gateway subject. It soon became clear that H was regrettably off the table, which was really for the best. They are babies and I’m not keen on being responsible for that introduction BUT they like Oxyyyyyyyy.
I quickly reformulated my plan and asked, "How's D? Last time I saw him was with Francis about some OxyC....he still doin' that?"
"Yeah but he lives in Kirtland now, wanted me to come by and hook him up but I told him I was busy." MK had no idead where this was heading, God love him.
"Ohhhh, I don't mind" Oozing sincerity, " Actually would LOVE to see D, it's been awhile."
After a bit more of the same, we were soon on our way to Kirtland. You might be wondering why I bothered with the OC and to that, I say, yours is not to reason why, SO ZIP IT.
At D's house I did away with the preliminaries fairly quickly and asked, "What up with the OC, friend?"
D laughed and pulled a bottle out and shook it, "80's, but you might not want, they're generics outta JZ, they got a weird stamp on 'em."
I held out a hand and looked over my shoulder at MK, "Pay the man and lets blow."
MK looked startled but I've learned that in most cases a money flasher HATES to look like he's too pussy to spend, so after a second, he made a deal for equal parts money and weed and we left.
In the car I took a minute to examine the pills and saw the Mexican eagle looking back at me, super. I told myself to shut the fuck up and that I didn't buy them so who cares if they're Juarez trash? D was always up front about stuff like that, so they might be ghetto, but essentially they would be real. I would feel less charitable later.
We went back to J’s house and right away shit started to get lame. It soon became evident that we were not on the same page, concerning the OC. When the foil and straw appeared I realized we were not even reading the same fucking book. I started to say something about high school methods and then remembered who I was with. More on that later.
I chose to try and ignore their whole situation and go about my own business, D had floated me a couple new points and I had everything else I needed. However, the smell of burning buffer was really killing my mood and I couldn’t help but think about what a waste it all was. To each their own and all that but I am most definitely biased when it comes to modes of use.
Fingers crossed that they wouldn't gel, I managed to do the whole pill-spoon-cig butt thing and get as much as I could out of that grainy mess but when I went to the bathroom to hit, the light was way too dim. I needed bright light or at least florescent to make the veins show through. This was like a ratty bare bulb on the ceiling. The kitchen was my best bet but since hitting would involve pinning my upper thigh, I would end up jeans-less. This is usually not an issue but I didn’t feel up to flashing the kiddies, so I dragged MK away from his foil and told him I needed to motor on home. As in, DRIVE ME NOW, please.
He obliged, came in for a minute and then said something about needing to do some stuff but could he come back later? I yes-yes’d and escorted him to the door, more concerned with doing my shot, than anything he had to say. I should’ve forced myself to pay attention to what I was doing/saying, it would’ve saved me much in the “WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!?” department.
I shut the front door and headed for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab some Neurontin. Black market pills can be weak and I wasn’t taking any chances, Neuro would jack up the high and then some. I did my thing and lucked out with the sweet spot on my thigh, then noticed that I should’ve been MUCH more fucked up and swung back through the kitchen to grab a beer. Not my usual routine but like I said, no chances.
I settled myself on the couch to smoke and relax and that’s where shit gets seriously messed up.
What followed is still somewhat hazy and there are more than a couple unanswered questions. I’ll borrow Laura’s expression and simply say I was off my tits, fuckered up. BIG TIME. Please resist the urge to accuse me of making excuses, I am quite aware of that, thank you.
I woke up to something straight out of 8th grade, which is to say, MK cuddled half up my right side and VERY happy to be there. Did I mention I had never gotten around to putting my jeans back on? Didn’t think so. I was in the infamous Darth Vader underoos and some sort of...T-shirt? Whatever, not the point.
The point is that although he had his pants on, they did very little to lessen the impact of what was going on in his trousers. Honestly, not bad but although I commend him for not taking total advantage, it’s still pretty fucking awkward to wake up w/a 17 yr old dry humping you and not being totally clear on how it evolved.
I choose to believe that I was completely faultless in the matter and did not encourage it in any way. I’m still having problems committing to that but with enough effort, I’m sure I’ll come around.
Worse than this is that I was disoriented enough to allow it to continue for ...at least 5 more minutes, haha. Scoff all you want, but I was really just trying to get my bearings and it seemed rude to interrupt until I was 100% sure that I wasn’t into it. He is pretty, and although Anna is of a different opinion, most everyone else thinks he’s hot as fuck. I would also like to mention that the age of consent in NM is 17, so anyone rubbing sweaty palms together in anticipation of an informative e-mail to the proper authorities can fuck off. It’s still creepy as shit but not illegal and I might add, not my idea...as far as I know.
Senses returning, I shifted myself slightly and asked, “MK, what are you doing...uh, I mean here, what are you doing here.”
“You said I could come back and the door was unlocked, you didn’t answer, so I came in.”
“OK and then...?”
“Then I woke you up and you told me to stop being so tall and sit down.”
“Christ...”
“ So I did, then you told me I had nice eyelashes.“
“I DID NOT.”
“You did and then you got up, went to the kitchen, sat on the floor and shot up.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup” he assured me, resuming his attentions, “Then you said to stop staring and help you and we came back to the couch.”
I was thinking furiously, or as furiously as one in my condition was capable of, marginally distracted by the fact that he was right back where he’d started. “Stop that. Anything else I should uh...be aware of?”
“Well, you let me get close but then you burned me with a cigarette, it’s cool though, it was an accident and then you...apologized.”
I sat straight the fuck up, “That’s enough.”
He had the gall to laugh at me, “You wanted to know!”
“Thank you, very informative.”
He continued, “I should be mad you don’t remember, not too much of a compliment. What’s the big deal? We’re having fun.”
“Mmmhmm, and your birthday is...?”
“October 6th”
“And you will be turning...?”
“18.”
“Shit.”
I was looking around for something to focus on so I could stand up and in doing so realized that there was a great big sticky ‘something’ just to the West of Lord Vader’s chin. “You have GOT to be kidding me.”
“We’ve been fucking around for hours, should I be sorry?”
“Embarrassed, maybe.” I grumbled and then the time frame sunk in, “HOURS!?”
“Well yeah, off and on.”
“Excellent.” I could’ve sworn it had been like ten minutes at the most, which is exactly what I shrieked to all my Girlfriends when I was able to think straight and make my shame spiral complete. Not very complimentary to him but what’s done is done.
“I’m gonna go change and then...”
“Then I’ll split this last pill with you.” MK was shameless.
“Yeah but this time I’ll have pants on.”
“Maybe I won’t?”
I flipped him off and closeted myself in the bathroom, deciding that anything that occurred had happened outside my drawers (undignified as that may be) and then changed into clean underpants and cutoffs so the issue of de-pants-ing would not arise again. Cum on me once, shame on you, Cum on me twice and I need to seriously re-evaluate my strategy.
After that things were much less traumatic, the most that happened was we nodded on each other for a bit before I decided he should go ahead and go. A short time later I got a call from D, he said,“ Just wanted to let you know to be careful with those, I’ve been hearing back that they creep on you.”
“You don’t say?”
“Ohhhh, shit” he laughed, “What happened?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
He just laughed louder, I held the phone away from my ear, barked, “PLEASE SEE YOURSELF OUT” and hung up on him mid cackle.
Later that day I found mysterious blood stains on the wall and floor and can only assume it’s mine, wouldn’t be the first time. Not likely to be the last.
You don’t need to say anything, I already know. Anna has been quipping about babies and playpens quite enough for all of you.

Gary Glitter Lee, over and OUT.

　

　

No One Really Wants Me to Make Sense, Any-Fucking-Way.

Being not in the mood to write something entertaining or informative is nothing new with me, lacking the motivation to do anything of consequence is just one of the things that makes me irritating to others. However I am ALWAYS in the mood to take and have others take, stupid photos of me, especially when I am impaired in some way. Photograph me in my bra/underwear, half submerged in a tub of water? Capital idea, let's do so immediately. You think I'm kidding.

There's scores of stuff like that and with any luck, it will stay locked away on a few select computers until I piss someone off enough and they decide to make a slide show or something. I'm resigned to this, it'll happen eventually as I'm always pissing off the people closest to me.
Okay, so there might be one or two pics that I don't hate, that might show up here because let's face it, I just can't help myself and you can't really tell that I'm wearing pink hot pants. Feel free to forget that I mentioned owning any such thing.
Why do I feel the need to repeatedly embarrass myself? You may as well ask why water is wet, it just is and I just do. Would you believe it's due to my not getting enough love as a child, thus driving me to seek it out in unhealthy ways? Nah, I didn't think you would.
It's utter bullshit anyway, I got plenty of love, even though I did my best to make my family hate me. Not on purpose but just because I was and still am, completely spoiled and selfish and only care about me-me-me. I'm a bitch, I make people sorry they love me, which causes them to hate me and consequently themselves because of their inability to stop. Is that some fucked up shit or what? How do I do it? It's a gift, I give love a bad name. I think Bon Jovi wrote a song about me...
Right, so I'm not totally heartless...at least I'm fairly sure I'm not and I have gone out of my way to help people on occasion. My family could never understand why I would put myself out for my friends. Evidently I'm stupid, in addition to being a selfish bitch.
I went to buy points last weekend and the pharmacy tech flirted shamelessly and then called me love, after which he became so flustered that he dropped the box on the floor. It was sweet and terribly satisfying as he was not unattractive. I like that he decided to hit on me, even though I was buying something socially unacceptable. It's not like he thought I was a diabetic, I was high as shit and not doing anything to indicate otherwise. I think I even had bruises all across my chest, which must’ve been incredibly HAWT! Haha.
Those of you who think he just figured he'd get the junky to blow him in the public toilet, do shut the fuck up. Can't you let me have the illusion for once!?! Fuckers.
And so what if he did? It was still cute and he was even age appropriate...somewhat. Moving on.
I took a pic of Maniac's freakish feet, they truly have to be seen to be believed. Honestly don't know how I didn't notice until the car incident. It must have been my brain blocking it out for the sake of my mental health. I'll post it when I finish that story, I'm warning you though, it will put you off feet for a good 6 months and if you already have a problem with feet, it may well break you.
Note to self, when a tweeker's sketchy looking girlfriend locks herself in the bathroom with your VIBRATING microdermabrasion thingy, you should kick down the fucking door in order to avoid having to replace it. Some things just don't wash off...EVER-EVER-EVER-EV-ER! Hey, guess what my new status is gonna be, hahaha. Why do I let these people in my house??? Ugh.
Oh and for anyone who thinks it's a good idea to send me youtube clips of their 'awesome' indie band...DON'T. And please don't ask me what I think, I can guarantee you don't wanna know. What did I do to make you think I would appreciate something that sounds like that!?! Can you let me know, I would like to make sure I NEVER do it again.
Have you even read anything here? I think I've been more than clear about my feelings regarding effeminate boys staggering under the weight of too much hair product and ridiculous side-swept hair styles. The only thing we have in common is a desperate need to capture ourselves on camera, guys in Hello Kitty T-shirts just plain creep me out.
Besides, I thought scene boys grew up and turned into hipsters? Just so you know, I find Buddy Holly specs and ironic mustaches just as abhorrent as dudes with stupid hair and rainbow heart hoodies, so it doesn't much matter. You look 20 and despite what you may have heard, that make you waaaaaaay too fucking OLD for me, hahaha. That was a joke.
I think it's time for me to go, I'm sure there's something around here for me to get high on, or someone for me to get...never you mind. It's a mad, mad world and I don't make the rules, so why the fuck should I hafta live by 'em? Does that make sense, it shouldn't, it's 5am for fuck's sake.
Love and all that sorta tripe,
M-E-L-O-D-Y. Why? Because we LIKE you! M-O-U-S-LEEEEEEE.

Happy H-olidays

Gangly legs...so many scars, so little effort.

Fishnets cover a multitude of sins but some sins are just too deep to disguise. And like I told the elite of the SSFBHG (supersecretfacebookheroingroup), YES I dress like Dr Frank N. Furter on any given afternoon and just cuz you don't, doesn't make you better than me! Take that (not so SSFBHG!).
I wasn't planning on posting anything today but due to an unexpected-expected delivery, I am high as fuck and felt like making my presence felt. Haha, like anyone reads this bullshit anyway. If you do, my condolences and I hope you at least get a laugh out of it, God help any poor slob who takes me seriously. I don't take myself seriously and they (whoever they are) do say you should never ask anyone to do something you wouldn't do yourself.
I've been very subdued, chemically and otherwise...well aside from the speed but does that really count? I'm still the mellowest bitch you ever saw, even on gak, so I think it does not. Anyone who presumes to know differently because of some geeked out facebook-ing that was accomplished during my last foray into meth-aphysics, can SHUT THE FUCK UP! Please and thank you.
I am nothing if not polite, even when I'm advising you to batten down the gum bumping and not spend every minute of your day trying to gainsay me. It will get you nowhere, I'll just say more and then you'll have to say more and it will never, ever end because if there's one thing that has been proven time and again...I really don't know when (or how) to shut up. Ever.
Except now, maybe. I'm kind of at a loss but that could be because I'm slowly getting more and more fucked up and soon, if I have anything to do with it, coherent thought will be a thing of the past. For instance, right this very minute, I'm gonna walk away from the computer and shoot some more dope into my thoroughly undeserving self.
Mmmmm, refreshing. And it only took 2 minutes, that vein in my thigh (refer to photo), has stood up to multiple jab sessions like a champ and as of now, has been my go-to spot for....oh, at least a month. The track on it is wicked, like 7 inches long, though you can't see it in the pic. I took that back around Halloween but only posted it in the super secret FB heroin group, haha. Along with some other photos of me in my Darth Vader underoos, doing unseemly things with a rig full of dope, haha. It's ok, everyone there does, I'm not alone and keep in mind that to a junky, doing anything other than injecting a rig full of dope, is unseemly.
I've been working on getting my fav Internet pussy, Mizzzzz K1tten, to come back for another visit, a follow-up to the Joan Jett adventure. Kinda wondering if maybe I overwhelmed her a bit, she was just off the plane when we drove to Espanola and then jaunted halfway up a mountain in (or around) Taos, in the dark of night, to procure a large amount of H. Granted this was a semi scary place, about 40 minutes from another living soul and mostly inaccessible if you weren't specifically looking for it. The kind of place where they can dismember you, scrap your car and no one will ever be the wiser, even if they were, they wouldn't have a clue where to look. So yeah, a little overwhelming but worth it, I think. We sure got a lot of smack for not a lot of cash and that sounds worth it to me, haha.
I've also been there several times and was used to the setup. It probly didn't help that 'someone' felt he needed to make cute little quips about the fate awaiting uninvited guests and trespassers. We were neither of those things. Or maybe she was just tired from her flight? It did get re-routed to Houston due to the plane catching on fire. Haha, talk about a sign from God that you should NOT go to fucking New Mexico!
Anyway, I hope to convince her to come stay for my birthday, it'll be a gasssssssssssssssss. I'm turning 57, that's not something that happens every day! We need to mark the occasion with...well, with drugs. And then more drugs and THEN maybe some debauched sexual escapades. And then, you guessed it, more drugs. HEY! It's MY fucking birthday and I'll dowhatIwant!
Wait-wait-wait...shot time, por favor. Do I really need another? Nope. Does it matter? NOPE. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I'm thankful I got my muthafuckin' dope in time for the holiday, it would be disrespectful not to enjoy it. And Thanksgiving is all about overindulgence, lets just try and keep the 'over' away from the 'doses' *wink* no one likes a blue-faced Betty at the table on Turkey Day!
Alright, maybe I should go, I need to load up another issue, take a shower and then find a cute dress to wear tomorrow to V & R's. I will not be cooking this year, well just a dessert, so I need to look extra adorable to distract them all from the fact that I will likely be drooling into my mashed potatoes. Have a grand one, my darlings,
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Melody.

Your Mother Calls You Puta?

Pic by Maniac. I look more like my fucked up self  here & I think I like it.

I looked over at Richie who had his hand in front of his face so I couldn't see him grinning, Maniac was too-too smug while he waited to see what I would do next and Adrian...he just looked constipated.
My previous statement had pretty much expressed everything I needed to say, I walked over to cholo fuckwad and snatched the keys from his hand. It could've been worse but not by much, I told myself at least it wasn't a Smart Car and got behind the wheel.
Richie spoke up, "Uh, can you lean the seat forward so we can get in back?"
Maniac choke/snorted and turned away but I could see his shoulders shaking, the bastard was enjoying this in a big way.
"All you hilarious motherfuckers can go file in on the other side...two door piece a...and the self satisfied brown trash gets in front."
Manny raised an eyebrow and Rich shoved Ade out of the way, which in turn led to more shoving. I saw a fist get cocked back and screeched, "HEY! Cut that shit out or you can just stay the fuck here, much as I'd love to see you bloody each other up, I just don't have it in me tonight. Be civilized or go home."
"If you need someone to put something in y..." Richie drawled.
"STOP! Stop right fucking therrrrrrrrrre. I don't care if you walk back to Colorado, I'm not putting up with you and you're not putting anything anywhere."
Adrian started to perk up and that annoyed me further, " AND YOU...Scott Pilgrim! You need a tampon for that vagina? One more pout or sigh and I will kick the piss out of you myself."
Maniac snickered and adjusted the seat, indicating that they should climb in. It was accomplished with minimum drama and we were off.
Not too happy to be driving a green marshmallow, I thought I might get some payback by scaring the living shit out of Manny. He's a worse passenger than I am and I'm really, really terrible.
We took the back way to the 550 S. and the roads were all wet and slippery, I smiled and floored the gas pedal. 0-90 in 3.2 minutes, stupid hunk o' crap. Before long we were passing Semis, darting and skittering all over the highway. I glanced over at Maniac, "Not so smug now, are we?"
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." He clutched the shoulder harness.
"Oh no?" I took my hands off the wheel and reached back to take Richie's cigarette, leaning my head against the rest. The little car swerved and I over-overcorrected...with my knees, fun fact: I drive better with my knees than most people do with their hands, haha.
Out of nowhere came this sound, kind of like someone strangling a tea kettle mid-whistle, if you could indeed do such a thing...and then the tea kettle exploded.
"TEN AND TWO, PUTA...EYES ON THE FUCKING ROAD!!!"
Silence... and then I snarked, "You sound like my mother...if my mother was a pussy." (Tandem chuckles from the back).
He forgot all about flaming wrecks and looked at me sideways, "Your mother calls you puta?"
I laughed, "Not to my face."
He snorted but relaxed his grip on the belt, "You really that pissed I got this car?"
I pointed at the rental info that was taped to the window, "You see what that says right there?"
"What, Ford Fiesta?"
"Nah, before that, where it gives the color, read to me what that says."
"Metallic...Mojito?"
"That's right, dip-tard, it says 'Metallic Mojito'. Not only am I driving what looks to be an aerodynamic suppository, it's a green one and it goes by the loathsome name of METALLIC MO-HEE-TOE!!"
"Insult to injury." Adrian spoke up.
"Thank you!" It was the first thing he'd said/done that hadn't made me want to kick him. I rolled the window down, flicked the cig butt out and tried to concentrate on the next 2 1/2 hours of driving. It didn't last.
Rich, who was right behind me kept running his fingers up the back of my neck and just being irritating in general. Ade seemed to have gotten himself in hand as I didn't hear any sensitive-type sniffling from his direction.
I had been so caught up in all the bullshit that I never bothered to ask why we were going to Rio Rancho in the first place. It's just outside Albuquerque and usually if we were gonna meet up with anyone it was in ABQ proper but whatever. I was already in it, so no point in worrying about the whys and wheres.
So there I was, driving along, minding my own business and I kept hearing this weird scratching noise. It sounded like velcro being uh...un-velcro-ed? Since I'm neither a toddler nor a senior citizen, I knew that *I* certainly wasn't wearing any and I hoped no one else was either. I didn't have a chance to give it much thought 'cause my cell started cranking out the intro to Rebel Rebel, I pulled it out of my bra (yes that's where it was, don't judge me), tossed it to Manny and told him to hit speaker. It was R-man calling for a progress report.
"What's up?" I felt around for my cigarettes.
"How long til you make Rio Rancho?" *scratch-scratch-scratch-scratchhhhh*
"45 minutes maybe, we just passed San Ysidro." *scratch-scratch*
"Call me when you get in and..." *SCRAAAAAATCHHHH*
I couldn't take it anymore, "WHAT THE FUCK...is that noise!?!
"Feet." Rainman supplied over the speaker.
"What?"
"Feeeeeet. Maniac's crusty feet on the car mat."
The boys snickered in unison and it took me a minute to process what I'd just been told. I looked over at M, "YOU are disgusting." Back to R-man, "I don't know which is more disturbing, that his feet are capable of producing such a noise or that you recognized it immediately for what it was." Back to M, "What the hell is wrong with you? They make pumice stones for a reason."
Richie snorted, "His feet would FUCK that stone up."
"His shit would rub the crust off everyone else's feet..." Adrian added.
"Ugh, enough...and EEEW!"

It's looking like there will be one more after this, mainly cuz Imma lazy cow and I just don't feel like reading through another butt-load of my writing and trying to make it post-able. I'll get to it, if anyone gives a fuck and if you don't...well then, I'll just run out and drown myself in a shallow pool of my own tears. It bothers me that much, bahahaha etc etc.
Anyway, I have things to clean and stuff to smo...uh, take care of, maybe I'll tell y'all about it sometime.

xo Melody Lee

Oh yeah, if you haven't already, check out my girl at Eyelick, she's a doll.

　

Catch My Fall

I may do a bad thing. Worse than usual, like bordering on...fuck. Literally. I really don't know what's going on with me. I have discussed this with Anna Banana but I can't rightly do so now because I'm not speaking to her due to some melodramatics that irritated me more than they should have. Probably more a case of me being a shit than anything she did.
There's this person *sigh* there's always a Goddamned person! And...Christ, I can't even get it out, it's so unseemly. No. UGH! Another object of fascination has thrust (not yet literally), himself into my life and for some reason it's been sounding like the best worst idea I've had in some time.
Honestly, I'm having difficulty putting it into words because I know just how bad it's gonna sound and at this point in time I'm not entirely sure that it isn't just this side of illegal. Seeing as how the popular consensus is that I'm practically post menopausal, it makes it extra icky. What the fuck is my problem and WHY did he have to approach me in the first place!?!
It's 3 AM and I just had to talk myself out of calling him, I was in bed, staring at the ceiling and so close to having him meet me it was a little scary. The sad thing is that if I really wanted to go bang someone I shouldn't it wouldn't be incredibly difficult. Adrian would walk here if I asked him to and Rich has been in town nearly every other weekend but being my usual cont(CUNT)rary self, I don't want them. I want the new one and yes I'm pouting about it!
Ms K1tten was here visiting and I was soooooo good, well not that good but I didn't take her out whoring around, we just did other...stuff. She met some people but for the most part I told everyone to piss off for the week she was in town.
The plan had originally been to hit up the masses in Albuquerque (collected from a site that I won't be naming here) and it just didn't happen that way. Instead we did something else that semi scared the bejesus outta her and then came home to relax for the rest of the week.
I think I mentioned that it would be a bad idea to ingest anything (Ambien), that would result in a walking blackout, just because I was worried that I would shuffle my zombie ass over to where that kid (most definitely a kid) would be. I'm so SICK, practically a pedophile!
You know what I think it is? I've been too restrained for too long and now I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin with the unbearable itchiness of it. I need to figure something out in a hurry before I do anything I can't take back. This new interest might just be the one that kicks my butt off the overpass, if you know what I mean.
It's not about the sex (not entirely), sex starved I ain't. It's like there's this feeling telling me I need to do something really, REALLY bad. Something that no amount of Milo therapy can fix, that might have worked when I got here but not now.
In case you're wondering what that is, it's when your boyfriend gets wasted and listens to the Descendents non-stop for an extended period of time. Usually however long it takes for him to come to terms with whatever it is you did to send him off the deep end in the first place. I swear when I first got to NM Casey had Clean Sheets and Bikeage on a loop for an entire month. So dramatic.
I suppose I'm writing this now as some last ditch effort to talk myself out of doing this incredibly stupid thing that I seem hell bent on pursuing. Or...OR, I can make a quick trip to Cali and rendezvous with this other person that has been after me to visit him and it might never come to light that anything even happened. Or I might just never come back. Crap. At least he's older than I am, haha. He really has no clue what a disaster I am, though. No idea how he missed that memo. Shit.
Casey will be in Utah until Saturday, triple shit. I'm not so good at these tests the universe likes to throw at me, I seem to fail them just to spite myself. The really hilarious thing being that I'm pretty sure if I had to talk to this guy for longer than a couple hours, I might seriously contemplate cutting his tongue out. The one here, not the one in CA.
If I was high right now this would NOT be an issue! I would simply be too loaded to care, it's this relentless clarity that's driving me to it. See people, THIS is what comes of clean living, disgusting.
It's been hounding me all day, the damn vid clips on my FB wall can attest to that. I Billy Idol-ed and THEN I Depeche Mode-ed! Twisted shit, right there, using catchy 80's music to subliminally propel myself towards the best worst idea...the very best. Sounds amazing right now, I should go.
Everyone can enjoy this not quite current photo of me looking like a pissed off Transexual with crap hair, decent cleavage and DSL. My new hair is much better and I'll show it to you when and if I come back to tell you about what I may or may not have done by this time tomorrow.
M.