Alright, first things first. The important stuff.

I FINALLY got my Cory Branan/Jon Snodgrass split! Jon’s cover of Thin Lizzy’s Wild One is amazing. Goosebumps. Cory’s long awaited studio version of Walk Around? DISAPPOINTED. He doesn’t say “fucking golden unicorn”. That’s what MAKES that song. Every thing else is amazing. Cory’s Yeah, So What? may be a new favorite. Born Apart has a harmonica part that makes me MELT. To my fucking core. These two can do no wrong.

Ok, enough about things that make me happy. Let’s move on to things that burn my ass. Cowards. I live my life very honestly. Or I try to. I can’t sleep at night knowing there’s something I need to say and I haven’t said it. Hello, that’s why I blog before bed. So I don’t understand who left me that comment. Here’s my theory…

That comment was either made by someone who desperately craves attention- wait. No, no matter what, that comment was made by an attention whore. That much is obvious. It was either completely random, and made by someone who just likes to fuck with people. Ok, fine. Whatever, kitchen dick. It’s cool.

If it WAS by someone I know or who knows me, well…my thoughts are much simpler. Fuck you. If you have something to say to me, or if I have so grievously offended you…MAN UP. Tell me to my fucking face, or at least let me know who you are. There was NOTHING in that blog that deserved that. That comment didn’t even make sense. What did I do? You’re right. I don’t have any idea. Tell me. Also, if you knew me at all you would know I pride myself on being ridiculous, and yes…even disgusting. Lighten the fuck up. Laugh at me, I do. Laugh at yourself.

When I first read that comment I laughed hysterically for a good 10 minutes. Then I called Toast and read it to him. He was confused as well. Then I called Totoro. She was the first one to say out loud what my fear was. What if it was the dumbcuntwhorebagslutface that stole my man? If it was, how do you like your new nickname, slag?

Here’s the thing, that crazy ass bitch… She got what she wanted. My life. She took my future. My boyfriend, my plans, my past…she robbed me of all of it. Then, she had the fucking audacity to keep tabs on me. She refuses to let Douche even utter my name. He is not allowed to be friends with me. He suggested I write to her and ask her permission, basically. Clearly, eight years together and he didn’t even know me that well. See, he misses me. I miss him too. Shut up. He was my best friend for nearly a third of my life. This August would have been our ten year anniversary. So, little miss homewrecker…FUCK YOU. Every reason he said he didn’t want to be with me for, you have magnified. Karma, is that you?

I don’t know if it was her or not. I do know I quit writing in my livejournal for the most part because she would log into his and read mine, unbeknownst to either of us. So he says. This was up to six months ago, when he deleted it. It had been a year and a half. I had walked away. She is certifiable, man. He knew about Banky because she told him. Those two deserve each other.

Anyway, that’s the end of it. It pisses me off because I write this blog for me. No one else. I don’t care if people read or comment. I write to work through shit in my own foul-mouthed way. If you don’t like it, DON’T READ IT. It’s just common fucking sense.

Really moving on this time. I am trying to convince Space Cowboy to write a blog. He sends me the most amazing texts ever. He’s hilarious and would be a riot to read. Today we continued a conversation about the BNB’s breakup with Jim Henson’s abortion. (TM Space Cowboy, 2009)

“I mean if I woke up looking like some half assed Sesame Street abomination, I would run towards the nearest living thing and kill it.”

PRICELESS.

I am a very lucky girl. I have a lot of very close guy friends. Space Cowboy, Halpert, Clark, J-Bear, Vampire…even Banky. No matter what has happened between any of us, we are always friends. They are protective, tell me I’m pretty, do sweet things for me. It’s almost like having my own harem. Without the feeding of grapes and whoring it up. As much as I love these boys, and trust me, I do, they’re my brothers…nothing compares to my ladies.

I always hated girls. Always. I always had more dude friends. Then I found my people. The other girls who were like me, bitchy but honest. Thought and acted more like guys, and could drink most of them under the table. These are my surrogate sisters. Wifey, MFEO, Savannah Ruby Soho and Martha make every day bearable. Without them, I wouldn’t be the awesome woman I am today…on my way to burning in cunt hell. They’ll be joining me. Thank god. It’d be so boring alone.