For your enjoyment, last year's bitching 3 days late.

On closer inspection of my pic^^ I am beginning to think that I should stop wearing clothing 3 sizes too large and stick to something more fitted that doesn't make it look as tho I have 30 fat rolls! Moving on, I'm watching some movie right now called Mondo Hollywood, aside from the somewhat nostalgic feel of it, the main thing that attracted me were the dismal comments left by previous viewers. Something to the effect of "what a waste of skin those hippies were" and "this movie is a flaming pile of crap" so after being subjected to such eloquence, I ask you how was I supposed to keep from watching? It's not so bad, although the 60's aren't really my thing. I think the best thing about the 60's was the music, the killer garage sound that came in waves from all over the place...it's quite simply amazing. I still get caught up in The Sonics and Richard and the Young Lions, The Beau Brummels, all that stuff is insane, simple and raw, practically perfect in every way. If you sat me down and forced me to listen to some of that summer of love folk shit, I might possibly gnaw through my wrists in an attempt to make it stop but not if we were listening to The Pretty Things or the Zachary Thacks. So I'll stop before this turns into my own private NME and turn my attention to other matters. My Little Red Book tho, seriously amazing and don't get me started on Talk Talk (curently on default)
So now I wanna direct attention to my previous post...omg hahahahaha, bonus points to you anon, seriously! After all my whining about this and that, you managed to goad me into just the kind of reaction that I try to avoid, generally because it just enforces your point and weakens mine. Not to say that I didn't make some very valid statements, oh indeed I did, not the least of which being that my choices are just that...MINE! Also forgetting during my Lyrica induced rant (not passing the buck haha, just sayin') that it doesn't matter how far I go to try and make someone understand, if they refuse to get it, there's no point in wasting time on 'em. I can't force my ideas on you any more than you can push yours on me but fuck if it wasn't fun trying.
Now all those things aside, I think my biggest issue with my last post wasn't the fact that I sound like a huge buttplug, I have no problem with that at all. My problem is that I was so immersed in making my point that I totally spaced my complete and utter dislike for the word braggadocios! I think anyone who actually uses that word in a sentence is a total anus, in person or print! Either way it's not a good look, who the fuck talks like that anyway? That word is at the top of my "did you seriously just say/do that?" list, right after bromance, asap (as in A-sap, spelling it is fine), copacetic (no everything is not!) and kabooby (not really a word, more of a flying camel but it weirds me out just the same). Further down the list are women who have decided that being called an actress is somehow demeaning and that they are now ac-tors (bah!) People who own hypo-allergenic pets and guys who when asked what they miss most since they've been locked up say their flat iron! I think that last one sums up everything that is wrong with the world. I may hafta write a scathing satire entitled "A Felon and his Flat iron" to further illustrate my Point! Am I the only one who thinks that is beyond ridiculous? I won't mention names but seriously Aaron (haha, I lied) what am I s'posed to think when you say things like that?
Since I'm on the topic of things I hate, let me throw in people who carry canes as some kind of uber-cool affectation(uber is also on my list of lame ass words( right next to epic) but whatever). Regina can sympathize with me on this one as she personally became the victim of a cane toting gothapotamus in SF. We were walking down Haight, minding our business when I saw Regi make way for an apparently crippled (ginormous) person of indeterminate sex. If pressed I would say it was a woman but there was no time for closer inspection, as at that moment Regi was catapulted halfway into the middle of the street, the victim of an unsolicited ass-attack. It was administered by the largest black-velvet clad posterior I have ever laid eyes on, after which, said gothapotamus flipped the prop cane into it's massive shoulder and skipped away on straining cankles. So although my description is somewhat amusing, my point is this, unless you are Malcolm McDowell circa 1971 and look super hot in white droog wear, don't do it! Put the cane down, you look like a douche!
Oh and please put down your ridiculously large pipe while you're at it! A pipe? Really? Would you like some snuff to go with that President Lincoln? Schmuck! Is there anything that looks more asinine than some idiot driving down the street, a tobacco pipe the size of a small boot clamped between his teeth? Not likely but gimmie a minute and I'm sure I'll think of something!
Next goes people giving their kids stupid fucking names! Zuma Nesta Rock? Speck Wildhorse? Those might get by because having a rock star for a parent buys you alot of slack (tho it really shouldn't) but when some dipshit in Jerkspittle, Arkansas names their kid Puma Alize somethings is seriously fucked up! I'm high more often than not and I can tell you naming your kid after a running shoe and a $4.00 wine isn't a good idea. Pretentious/oblivious names are almost as bad, let me just say that unless your spawn is going to have a Dr. before his name and an S. Thompson after it, you should not be calling him Hunter. Period! Or Farmer or Shepherd, those are occupations, not names. If you have one of these in your family, my condolences, perhaps your relatives are stupid and didn't know any better?
This isn't the 1930's, we aren't fleeing the dust bowl, goddamn it DO NOT name your son Abner! Is it just me? Some moron shows me their progeny and proudly pronounces it "Summer Dawn"(sounds like a brand of douche!) "Space Radio" or "Kermitt" WHAT THE SHIT??? And they think it's soooo fucking unique! What'll be really unique is when he of the stupid name grows up to be the next Ottis Toole. Perhaps if Ottis had been named John (and hadn't had the IQ of a mashed pea) he mightn't have ended up such a fucktard! First name Ottis, last name Toole, that's the kind of situation where nobody wins, even if he was too moronic to realize he had been branded a corn pone dildo from birth, it's still not right and inbred or not, his family shoulda known better!
OK, now I have no idea how I got here but fuck if it wasn't hella fun to bitch about random, basically meaningless shit! I am restored!
So, getting more tattoos for my birthday from my angel love Casey, I'll probly throw up some pics in a couple weeks, whenever it's done. Most likely finish the stars and get the stitches on my wrist, and that shit is gonna feel soooo good! It's gonna cut right across my tendons and over that bone on the outside of the top of my wrist, yummy! Nothing feels quite like jamming a needle into your tendons. Can't wait!
So that's it for now, hope everyone had an amazing holiday and when I come back I will officially be another year older, yay. Happy New Year fuckers.
Kisses, Melody
P.S. Casey's boss told him that I am a soul sucking witch(that's a new one)and that I was draining him of his spirituality. Pffft! When he (the boss) called later that day, I told him he was a bit confused for I am actually a cock-sucking BITCH and tho that might be draining something, I sincerely doubt it's his (Casey's) spirituality! That shut him up proper, meddling Jehovah's Witness busybody! Fuck those people and the cult they rode in on!

Rebuttal and My Brief Descent into the World of Douchebaggery...

Fuck me, I look goddamn miserable don't I?*dripping sarcasm* Pffffft! Smug maybe...fuck man, check that crazy-slick default song, damn The Sonics kick some serious ass!

Now lookie here, a blog post where I get to argue my point, LOVE IT! It's been awhile since I've gotten to do that, sooo stoked hahaha. I'm gonna resort to the same kind of braggadocios douchebaggery that I so often condemn but it's for a good cause. Prepare yourself kids this is gonna be messy hahaha, just kidding, it'll be on par with my usual crap, promise. Below is the comment I got and my subsequent rebuttal.

Anon:


"I could be a soccer mom for fuck sake! Or even a *shudder* real estate lady!"

I wouldn't want to be either, but there's a hell of a lot more that someone cab be b/w being a mother or selling real estate or being a junkie. I've been a heroin addict so I know how good the feeling is, but it's nowhere near the feeling of accompising things you thought you couldn't do, making your own way instead of going shot to shot, and finding something to do for a career that you like. All of your insistence that you're happy being a junkie phone whore is a front for the things you don't want to face- being a loser, abandoning your kid, having nothing, being nothing- if that wasn't the case you wouldn't feel the need to constantly insist that you are happy with how you turned out.

PS You don't sound like an "intellectual philosopher," but you do sound like a rambling junkie.

Me:

Sweetheart, haven't you learned that I love to talk about myself? I bitch, blather and blog just because I can. If you think that I make certain statements about my life out of some deep need to reassure myself, you are waaaay off base! Fuck, I'm soooo glad I sound like a rambling junky i.e. ME! I was seriously worried that I was starting to sound like everybody else! The real issue here is that it's not up to anyone else to decide how I do or don't feel. How can you even think to try and choose my feelings for me? I can respect the fact that you've been an H addict and that you can relate to the feeling it gives you but we are not all created equal. Just because you've discovered some kind of remorse over the things you did in your past doesn't mean that I have to. It's not so far fetched really, that I'm happy as I am, why the fuck wouldn't I be? I have a nice home, I have a crazy-good income and yes it's phone whoring but again, who are you to decide that it's such a dead end job? I earn my money by working 10-12 hours a day and make what amounts to $45.00 an hour. My old man busts ass in the oilfields all day and doesn't make half as much as I do. So tell me again why my chosen profession is so bad, looks pretty fuckin good to me. I'm not working for some half assed, fly by night company, this IS my career. The sex industry is the closest thing to a recession proof job you can find and oddly enough, I'm making 3X what the college graduate who got laid off and is now working at Taco Bell earns.
What if my idea of having a long term goal is not to have one at all? Why would I want to plan out my life like that? I would go insane if I knew what was gonna happen in 5 years? No fun in that! I'm quite content to leave the future a mystery and enjoy it as it comes.
Since only the people who know me in real life are privy to the details of how my daughter came to be in my mother's care, I don't really think you can pass judgement on that situation. I never abandoned her but I don't feel like I need to explain or justify my actions to a faceless comment on a public blog. I don't think I'm a loser, I just accept the title with good grace hahaha. I don't give the slightest fuck what anybody thinks, it makes things so much easier, not having to worry about others opinions. Shall I make an itemized list of my loser accomplishments?
MY LOSER ACCOMPLISHMENTS:

Material:
*3 bedroom house, rent paid on time monthly
*SUV less than a year old
*all bills paid, utilities, cable, Internet etc.
*New laptop and desktop PC
*Crazy bouts of online shopping with my CREDIT CARD haha
*Sweet, crazy furnishings that I add to on a regular basis.
*So many electronic game systems, TV, stereos, record players that I will not list them all.
*So many kitchen implements that Martha Stewart would be envious.
*The sweetest collection of records, Cd's, etc that I add to regularly.
*More clothes and shoes than Imelda Marcos.
*A gross monthly income of $3050.00 give or take a few bucks( me and Casey)

Immaterial:
*A daughter who adores me no matter what I've done and yes she knows, I've never lied to her about that.
*An old man who puts up with all my shit and loves me anyway and a cat who disdains every move I make but still manages to treat me like I hung the moon.
*A family who also loves me, come heroin, hell or high water.
*Friends both old and new who like me as I am and know that you try to change me at your own risk.
*Contentedness.
*The ability and means to get as fucked up as I want and still keep my shit together.
*Peace of mind because I know that I'm doing ok, no matter what anyone else believes.

Funny thing is you could take almost all of that away(material things) and I would still be alright. The key to inner happiness is to take what you've got and make the best of it. I'm not 100% happy 100% of the time but neither is anyone else, addict or not. I suppose I should spend the rest of my life boo-hooing over the past, over things I can't change? Would it be more acceptable if I came here and blogged about guilt and remorse? I could do that but every word of it would be horse shit. There is enough manure in this world, I don't think I should add to the pile.
So you've cleaned up your life and found a sense of accomplishment bravo, I'm happy for you, you found something that works FOR YOU. So have I, so please don't condescend to tell me how I feel about it, the only person who can state my true feelings is me. I'm not ignoring the fact that ALOT of addicts feel as you do, that's their prerogative and yours but trying to force those convictions on me is silly and not a little presumptuous. My lifestyle ain't for everyone, addicts included but it's what I chose and I'm secure in my decision, period!
Shit, glad I cleared that up hahaha.
Later on mothafuckas, hugs and kisses and all that kinda sheeeeit!
~Melody Lee
P.S. My new friend Denny at AllTreatment.com has informed me that congress lifted the ban on national funding for needle exchanges, excellent news if I ever heard it! More to come on this topic later. See! I get along with treatment center types haha, nothing wrong with recovery my loves, as long as ain't mine heheh!

Suffering Gained Through Exquisite Means...(my intellectual windbag moment)

When I think of being an addict I think back to when it all started, you know, the very first time I got high. Not H, I actually think it was weed, I think...or maybe pills but anyway it's not so much about the specific details but on whether I would change things. Like if I had known what was gonna be the end result, that I would be somewhat bedraggled and in love with a drug that has no capability of loving me back, would I still take that first shot? What do you think?
I hate to imagine what I might have settled for had I not taken that sharp turn at the corner of Heroin and Destiny street. I could be a soccer mom for fuck sake! Or even a *shudder* real estate lady! I have ZERO regrets about the way shit has turned out, I knew how it was gonna be the first time I took that poke in the arm, it's not like I didn't know what I was getting into. I grew up listening to stories about my crazy fucked up dad and his H addiction. I had NO illusions about where I was headed, I just didn't care, I made a choice.
It bothers me on so many levels when I hear people going on about how drugs screwed up their lives, like they had no say in it all. The drugs don't pull the strings baby you do, whether you wanna admit it or not. The drugs didn't make you hock your flat screen, they didn't make you steal your parent's retirement money and they sure as fuck didn't make you suck that dick! YOU did it because of whatever it is that the drugs provide you with, be it comfort, misery or oblivion. There's alot of people who thrive on misery, it's like a black cloud that follows them around and drugs can be the perfect sidekick to that situation. These people are unhappy when they're sober and equally unhappy when they're high. Sad really, what a waste of perfectly good drugs.
Worse even are the ones who refuse any responsibility for their actions. I have a homeboy who will do the most shady crap when he's strung out and then come back and apologize for it when he's clean. Like being a dopefiend gives him a license to be a piece of shit. Fuckin pussy, if he's gonna be an asshole, he should man up and be an asshole 24/7, none of this "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking straight" bullshit!
It's all so mystifying to me, it's like a really stupid form of buyers remorse. You had your fun and now yuo hafta pay the price, no one said it was gonna be easy. Where does it say that Heroin is a safe form of pharmaceutical recreation? Last time I checked, my main man was at the top of the "Stay the fuck away" list.
I must have missed the press release from the International Opiate Association where they stated that shooting smack was 100% safe and had no lasting after effects. What the fuck did you think was gonnna happen, that you would be miraculously exempt from the addiction clause in the H contract? You shoulda read the fine print motherfuckers, 'cause you signed that bitch in blood the first time you stuck that hypo in your arm.
I'm not being heartless, just honest. You may be pre-disposed to addiction but it's still you making the decisions. I understand that people react in different ways when it comes to being dopesick but the reality is that it's not gonna kill you. It's a miserable, seemingly endless process but it does end and going into a spasticated seizure and knocking over a 7-11 is just gonna make your sitch waaaay more complicated.
It all comes down to how you look at things and even though I may have a single minded purpose where my actions are concerned, when shit goes south I still know where the blame ultimately lies. Oscar Wilde said,"We are each are own Devil and we make this world our Hell." I think it's appropriate to this situation but I also take it out of context and apply my own interpretation (what's new right?). Hell is a relative term and can mean so many things, not all of them truly bad. If my Hell is what I've created around me how can I help but adore it? It's an extension of me and what could be better than that? Suffering gained through exquisite means is not made any less wondrous because of it's origin and ultimate destination. It's beautiful in it's simplicity and reduces us to the bare bones of self, we are at our most basic when we hurt. Therefore...how can a Hell comprised of my own nature and design be anything less than...magnificent?
Christ, could I sound any more like a pseudo intellectual, philosophizing windbag? Haha, maybe if I try really, really hard! Perhaps it does sound pompous but that doesn't make it untrue. Take your fucked up addiction and hold it close, love it, pet it, for no one else can lay claim to it but you. It's all yours sugar, as is what you choose to do with it. You can carry it to the grave or you can put it to bed but make no mistake, it's ancestry is clear. There are no branches on that family tree, make it work for you or walk away, that simple and that complicated.
Hmmm, more in love with myself today than ever aren't I? Whatever, it suits me *wink* have an amazing weekend kids, however you decide to spend it.
Kisses,
~Melody Lee

The Lesson for Today is...

The night we got suuuuuuuper wasted on unbelievably good dope.

It's been a pretty slow week, aside from the usual inanity that seems to follow me like a swarm. I scored some sub-standard H from a guy a couple towns over and it was definitely not worth the hassle or the poke. How frustrating is it to waste a perfectly good vein on something that you feel for 30 seconds? Extremely! I'm so shot out that when I do manage to hit a vein it's like I can hear the Hallelujah chorus and doing so just to have it suck ass because the dope was shit is kinda disappointing. Then to top it off the moron I bought it from is calling to pester me about buying more!What part of "Your dope is shit" is so difficult to understand? I stopped answering the phone and then as luck would have it, I ran into him at the store.
He's a total douche but think he's cooler than fuck and has this attitude like he can jive you into doing what he wants as long as he keeps up a constant stream of bullshit. It irritates me no end! At some point I decided to stop being civil and just let what I really felt come pouring out. It went something like this:

Douche: SO whatchu think girl, I got so much of this black I can cut the price in half.
Me: Nope, not interested. That crap was weak and I'd sooner burn my money than spend it on more bullshit. Perhaps the reason you have so much of it is that no one in their right mind would buy from you more than once.
Douche: Fuck that, this dope is fire, everybody's talking about it.
Me: *sniggering* Bet I can tell ya what they're sayin'.
Douche: My people don't bullshit.
Me: Go sell it to them then.
Douche: GIRL! I'm telling you this shit is good, you musta done something wrong with that last bag.
Me: *smirking* Yeah I did, I paid for it, that's where I fucked up.
Douche: *getting red in the face* You need to get in on this! It's gonna go fast and then you'll be back to driving 6 hours to score a bag. You're fucking up, you don't know..
Me:*cutting him off* I don't know? Let me tell you what the fuck I DON"T KNOW! I don't know why I went against instinct and copped from you in the first place. I don't know why you think that I should cave to you, a moron wearing a rip-stop nylon track suit circa 1978, you look like a flame retardant dildo by the way and I definitely don't know why the fuck you're still standing here! You need to do some serious re-evaluating and consider the facts. Fact-your dope is weak, like shooting up sleepy time tea and I ain't havin it. Fact-if everyone was so stoked on it, you wouldn't be hassling me like a broke ass vacuum salesman. Fact-you...are a dipshit and you need to step the fuck away from me and go about your business before I get really pissy and do something that might embarrass you...like break my foot off in your ass.

I walked away while track-suit dingus was still trying to sort through my tirade and haven't heard from him since. The problem with dildo's is they seem to pop up when you least expect it and when it will cause maximum trouble. We'll see.
So I thought I'd share that lil exchange with y'all while it was still fresh in my mind, since it happened this morning haha. The only good dildo is the literal one you keep in a box under the bed,figurative dildos are basically useless and should be avoided at all costs. Just say no to track suit dildos! That's the lesson for today kids, learn it, live it, love it.
BIIIIIIIIIIIIG kiss,
~Melody Lee

No Rest for the Wicked

Wow, I'm super tired and wishing that I wasn't having to work right now! I just took an hour long snuff/necro call where I had to bind/torture/kill several innocent college girls and then fuck myself while the guy banged their dead bodies.Uh, pervo? Dennis Raider called, he wants his M.O. back!
I'm on for a few more hours and all I want to do is go to bed. I've been awake since...well too long and I have no more H to keep me company. I'm soooo not in the mood for homicidal morons with hard-ons!Or anyone else really, I took a suboxone today and I just wanna crash. I'm not up to my usual standards as far as phone sex goes and I'm sure I made a very poor accomplice/murderess on that last call. Good thing it wasn't my acting he was interested in :P
So this is just a quick stop, just me wanting to bitch and moan about things nobody cares about...just because I can.
XO Melody

Now Even My Cat is Judging Me?

So the dreaded Facebook has redeemed itself...kinda. I still hate it on principal but it did put me in contact with one of my old friends from back in the day, so that has to count for something right? Joey was in a band with me and Regina like a million years ago and I hadn't talked to him in years and years. He went into the military before I started my heroin romance and I've been catching him up on what he missed heheh. He's partly responsible for me and Casey being together but I won't hold that against him haha.
I'm sitting here sweating and thinking and I'm sure everyone knows what it is I'm thinking about. I shouldn't...really I shouldn't but when have I ever let that stop me? I've been unusually morbid lately, thinking that one of these days I might just fall out and disappear forever. A huge relief to all those who hate me and somewhat of a nuisance to those who don't. I'm not really worried about it, as usual I tend not to dwell on ugly things until they come to pass and in this case it would be to late so fuck it.
I'm not self absorbed enough to think that it will make any real difference either way...maybe to my family and friends but that will only last so long.They'll get over it and be better for it in the process. No more worries or stress because of lil ol' me. I'm reminded of those fucktards who commit suicide under the misbegotten notion that, "They'll be sorry when I'm gone!"
Uh, no they won't, not really. They'll be relieved that they don't have to deal with your particular brand of crazy anymore and they will move on. The world won't stop because you left it, just how it goes. Eh, whatever.
Oh my God! I know what's going on here!!! I'm semi-dopesick and that always turns me into a maudlin moron. Sorry bout that, bleak introspection seems to be a side effect of the kicking process or mine anyway. I'll be good in a few days, I'll either be loaded or clean and both of those get rid of this whiny emo-ish (ugh emo) persona I'm wearing. I loathe emo in all it's weepy incarnations and it made me ill when I read something stating that the Descendents were the forefathers of the movement. It gave me that same sick feeling as when I hear Green Day refered to as the Godfathers of punk. Are these people retarded or just stupid? Who actually believes that??? Ugh, I have no words...almost heheh.
See, I'm regaining some of my old self already, must be that Percocet kicking in to relieve this edgy suckiness that has been plagueing me for the past couple days. No need to go listen to Death Cab and slit my wrists with a dull butter knife (I so do not listen to DC!).
Nothing productive on my list today, but then there rarely is. I'm quite literally the laziest person I know and unmotivated...oh so unmotivated! I do a little as possible for as long as possible, maybe they can put that on my tombstone?
I wish I could recapture some of that manic energy that used to make me sanitize the house from corner to corner. This place is trashed right now! It's so bad that even Fat Mike shook his head in disgust and refused to look at me. Now even my cat is judging me! If I do get some smack, I will try my hardest to remain semi-concious and clean the house. I'm in such a good mood when I'm loaded, nothing irritates me...except for Casey. I don't think that counts tho cuz that fucker could drive Saint Jude to slaughter terminally ill children! Was that in poor taste? Good.
So since Joey has informed me that he is an old man now and listen to folk music I will set my default song accordingly. Or try to anyway, I can only do so much and Joan Baez I ain't, perhaps some Dylan? That's as folksy as I get. Since I am first and formost a junky mess, I will choose the song (one of them anyway) rumored to be about Edie Sedgewick and her love affair with notariety and heroin, it's appropriate.

STONED MUSINGS ON RAPISTS & KURT HEMMET'S FRO

My version of the Veronica Lake ^^

OK well I'm extremely stoned right now and got this wild hair up my ass to come on here and write something. I met some new cuties that smoke weed and aside from their hotness they also take tons of useless drugs off my hands and convert them to cash. Gotta love that. So I've been getting stoned alot more than before...that's not to say that I've given up the H. I've managed to do both without any cross conflict. It also doesn't hurt that my new acquaintances have smack hookups too. Who would've thought that a chance meeting at the wal-mart would reap such bounty?

I did the last 4 hours of my phone-perv duty completely wasted, like stare at the wall for 40 minutes wasted. I have no probs doing the actual talk, that shit is automatic but taking their billing info is another story entirely. That's right people, you read right, I, Melody Lee am being entrusted to retrieve and record thousands of Credit card numbers. Not just numbers but exp dates, CVV codes and complete billing addresses. Basically everything I need to wreak major havoc at Western Union and beyond. I haven't tho, probly never will. It's like the time my mom entrusted me to do her taxes, I can't bring myself to fuck over someone who trusts me *sigh* one of my few faults. I'm stupid like that...which isn't to say I don't think about it alot but I won't do it. Goddammit!

Not out of respect for the pervs (they're mostly pedophiles anyway) but out of respect for the people I work for. If this had been 4 years ago not even a blood tie would have kept me from making use of the info, I mean who the fuck are those guys to me really? A paycheck sure but not much else. Most of them are abusive date rapists and if I wasn't such a stellar actress the contempt in my voice would be over apparent. I have little tolerance for rapists, I've come across a handful and they are generally despicable.

Not gonna go the whole boo hoo route about rape, it's not something that wrecks me and for anyone contemplating an irate lecture, don't bother. I've been under a couple rapists myself so it's not like I don't know how it goes, I just don't care. Those events are not important in the history of me and I'll be damned if I spend the rest of my days scared and emotionally crippled. Why let something perpetrated by a retard which a penchant for forced copulation define me? I don't and neither should anybody else, they should suck it up and move on. And for any girls who want to go all Gloria Steinem about it, pack up the femi-nazi costume and calm down. Not saying you don't have a right to be pissed, just saying that you should get the fuck over it, why give it and him any significance?

Moving on, fuck I'm surprised at my eloquence, all things considered I've maintained a pretty good streak of lucidity. Aside from straying a bit off topic.

So I was thinking about doing my hair tonight, you can see from the pic that my roots are waaaay grown out BUT I thought that although no one can pull off a hair malfunction like yours truly, I better not risk it. Nice run on sentence huh?

I also thought better of trying to do one of those lame-o podcasts cuz I have probs concentrating on those as is. I usually duck out to go score and end up playing 15 minutes off music and leaving 45 of dead air. Priorities and all that. Besides which, converting all my music files is a nightmare and don't get me started on trying to get the vinyl on my laptop. I'll get it all done eventually but FUCK! I should have spent less $$ with Dr Strange and more on a comprehensive suite of music converting software. But no amount of software can equal limited edition Addicts and Sloppy Seconds picture discs. Who says money doesn't buy happiness? I have several examples that lay waste to that theory, my record collection is just one item on a long and varied list. Guess what's at the top? Oh ok I'll tell you, it's heroin, are you surprised?

As updates go this has been pretty pathetic but what can I say, it is what it is. I'll do better next time, scout's honor ( I was soooo not a girl scout).

The weed is wearing off so it's time to see Cameron about a refresher...or at least some oxys, then they can go. Momma has to be up at 10 am for work tomorrow and if I don't get 12 hours of sleep I get cranky.

So I think this is enough for now, I still have the last part of that story but at this point I think most have lost interest. I wouldn't exactly know tho, since I haven't checked my comments in over a month. I wrote that last post and skedaddled with nary a peek. I'm sure I'll have some beauties to look forward to when I do decide to check it out.

So next time I post I'll let y'all see what I did to my hair heheh, it's gotten fairly long and I'm just about at the breaking point. I can only go so many months without altering it in some way and since black and blonde is all I'm permitted to do colorwise, hacking at it is the next best thing. I swore I'd let it grow, Casey is surprisingly attached to long hair considering he mainly dated girls with shaved heads, I should know, I was one of 'em. I've strayed a long way from the Mohawks and devil locks but I'm still the same crazy cunt, ask anyone. Besides, I'd feel like a retard trying to pull something like that off at my age, it's a bit too Wattie for my tastes and he's like 40 years older than me. Can everyone say Mohawk toupee? Not sure if he's still sporting that look but it was scary while it lasted. Even Metallica cut their hair...but then grew it back again when they lost their dirthead cred and record sales were affected haha, it's those priorities again. I don't think I'm the only person had been relieved to see the Hemmet fro depart. But relief was short lived. I think, I don't keep up with Metallica enough to know for sure. I haven't willingly listened to And Justice For All since I was in Jr high and that was the last album I could stomach, even then. Getting a weird craving to listen to Sanitarium tho, I will banish it by putting on some Electric Eels instead. One of the best thing to come out of Ohio besides The Dead Boys and Devo...I think it was Ohio. Whatever, they kick ass (as is proved by my sweet default song).

OK, now I'm really rambling so I better go. Remember everyone, when leaving condescending comments be sure and spell them correctly. Whether you are moron or not, it makes you look idiotic, like a tard making fun of a cripple and kills any chance that I might be insulted. But then there was never really any chance of that...was there?

Kisses,

~Melody Lee