As I See Them

Don't question an action, or the thought behind an action.  It doesn't need to make sense, and you don't need to understand it.  If it doesn't affect you, leave it alone.
Question ideas, help make them grow.
Do not let your emotions get in the way of ambition.
Don't be realistic.   It might be what we should do, but doing so is a sign of, weakness, surrendering and low self confidence.

Shameless Portography

    Portography is a fancy new word that means self-portrait photography.  As if we couldn't get enough of me already.  I decided to upload a bunch of pictures of me (pictures that are already online in the first place) because I felt like it.  Just some self portraits.  There are some pictures of my cat in here for ya, too.

Ha!  Remember that one zombie costume?!

Feather headphones are the hippest trend that I invented.

I crocheted that necklace thing by hand.  Aren't I cute...

Okay, here are some creepy edits now:

I bought this fancy, powerful laser online and pointed it at me.  It was warm.

I really like that hoodie.  It's pretty cool.

Kay, this one isn't creepy, but it's fun!

I made that scarf, by the way. 

That's all I've got. I'll post more at some point.  Here's a stare:

AND HERE ARE SOME PICTURES OF MY CAT, WHOM I TOLERATE:

Midnight Beets

      This fruit basket came over for dinner the other day.  It was nice, charming, like most fruit baskets I've met, but I noticed that the base of it was beets.  I had never seen beets in a fruit basket before.  I knew that it had something to do with the union and beet's rights or BEETA or something, but this was strange.  They looked good.  Dark red, almost black.  They all winked at me whenever I glanced down at them.  It was freaky, but I liked it.  We never got to the dinner part because the fruit basket would not shut up.  It just babbled about dirt and hydrogen and the sun and all this crap that I had already read on its OkCupid page.  So midnight struck and the basket said that it had to leave.  Its cab had arrived. (I didn't even see it call a cab.  Maybe one of the beets had done it.  Who knows.)  So the basket left. We didn't even hug good-bye.  I just opened the door and watched it leave.  I was not calling the motherfucker back.

     Usually I take a bubble bath after my guests leave, so I did that.  My cat got me this really cool bubble bath bubble machine that continuously makes bubbles in your bath so that it never ends (it's really cool, it can make different shapes of bubbles and different colors of bubbles and all this fancy stuff.  I dunno, I haven't read the manual). So I'm there, soaking in soap clouds when the door to my bathroom cracked open and one of the beets rolled in.  It was magical.  The beet was about the size of my fist and it was eager to jump in the bathtub.  I could tell.  I watched as it did so and then swam close to me.  I began to float and the beet jumped on top of my belly.  We just lay there then, for about half an hour.


      I don't know what impulse came over me, I-I hadn't eaten a beet in years, but their sweet iron-y taste still came to me in dreams.  I popped my stomach, made the beet fly, and like a skilled bro flicking cereal into his mouth, I caught the beet, and swallowed the whole thing.  It was delicious.  That's probably what the beet wanted in the first place.  Why else would it have left the fruit basket behind and then bathed with me?  At least from the books that I had read, that's what that sort of behavior means in beet culture.

       As I digested the beet my bath timer went off.  Bath was over.  I turned the bubbles machine off, got out of the bath tub and jumped in my comfiest robe.  I heard a knock on the door.  What a surprise; guests at three in the morning.  Sure, why not?  I headed to the door and cracked it open with the security chain on.  It was the fruit basket.  It looked a little distraught, and with an apologetic tone asked me if it had, by any chance, left something behind at my place.  A red burp escaped me because I had been laying down for the past two hours and I stood up too fast, and then I lied.  Nothing had been left behind, sorry.  The basked accepted this, ignoring my purple teeth, then turned around and jumped back in a cab.  I felt bad for all the cab fair that the poor thing was giving up for nothing, but I didn't care.  That basket sucked at conversation anyway, but the beet was delicious.  I craved more.  Maybe I would invite it over again.  Probably not though.  We'll see.  Right now I need to finish digesting this beautiful monster.  You know what's really fun when you eat a lot of beets?  It makes you pee purple.  Who doesn't love purple pee?!

Post-Party Snack

    It's one in the morning on a Saturday night and I am NOT at a party.  I mean, I was.  It was just a bunch of kids (a good 100-200 is a rough estimate).  Here is how my luck goes:  I get home from work, change coats, look FUCKING AWESOME and then I head over there.  I get there right as an undercover cop car pulls up.  Typical.  So I go in because I guess when the cops show up everyone has to go in.  I don't know any of this party etiquette.  So I'm there, with a bunch of kids.  None of them were interesting, only about 7% were more than five feet and eight inches in height, and the only people who were over 21 were the cops and some sad guys dating some nineteen year old girls.  So I'm there.  I see some people who I don't wanna talk to because they're stuck up, they see me and look away, which just furthers my repulsion for them.  My friend Jack gives me a beer, so I down the mother fucker.  Then the cops do their thing and everybody leaves.  Bullshit.  I looked so good.  Some pixie chicks were there.  There was nobody that interesting there, which is why I left.  People were smoking inside, so now I smell like hormones and fucking cigarettes, which gives me a headache.  Why do kids have to smoke inside?  It's not attractive,  it's a fire hazard and it stinks up the atmosphere.  You might as well ask everybody to fart and rip a one dollar bill in half.  But yeah, sadly I didn't see anyone get beat up or hurt.  I saw some trendy basic bitches and a bunch of tweeny horny guys who were trying too hard.  Like I said, no one too interesting.  Now I'm home eating a jar of peanut butter jam swirl shit, which I hate but it's delicious.  That chocolate ice cream that my EX roommate left in the freezer is next.  I hate that thing.  But I love it.  But I hate it.  Hold on, I can't type with my mouth full (that's what she said)
    So a bunch of people came by to see my apartment for possible renting, and what do you know, the building reeked of marijuana.  YUPPEE!  Thanks, neighborhood.  Now I am really going to sell this one.  Seriously, every time somebody arrived to look at the place, weed waft.  Damn it.  That's cool.  I don't care.
    I haven't gone to the gym in three days.  I fail.  I hate it.  But it's okay, I've got peanut butter jelly swirl shit and ice cream.  Fuck it, it's March 10th, and I'm moving soon and everything will change.  There are no more updates here.  I've been dancing a lot.  Gotta get ready for Neo.  It's only six months away!!  Did I say that I am spending my 21st birthday in Iowa City?  Yup.  With my parents, and then I'm going out with my friends.  It'll be fun!

Fucking cigarette smell.  Get off my clothes!!  I hope this ice cream gives me nightmares. 

The Cat

    So my cat just thought that it would be hilarious to poke his claw through my knee and now my whole leg is throbbing with pain.  Thanks, cat.  My, your claws are so sharp, where do you go to get them sharpened?  I HAVE to go check that place out.  They really did a great job on you.  It's okay, the bleeding has stopped.  I only lost about five pints of blood and all of my hair.  Just so you all know, the cat has been punished, and now there is stew to last the rest of the month.  The stew is great, and I'm glad there's a lot.  Since I don't have a roommate anymore I have to spend less money on everything and more on rent.  It's alright, the tradeoff is worth it. Oh yeah, I DON'T HAVE A ROOMMATE ANYMORE! I am so happy.  I came home and all her stuff was gone and I danced in the empty living room for five minutes, and I didn't hurt any limbs this time!!
    I showed up to work early to pick my check up (yeah, my old-fart-ass company still pays in paper) and this six foot tall lady was coming out as I was walking in and I said "excuse me" but my backpack sort of slightly touched her and she was like, "GOSH!" And I mean, she didn't say it in too bitchy of a tone, but I still wanted to tell her to calm her tits and to stop being such a pussy and to get over life because if someone's backpack is going to upset her like that then she better get her ass ready for childbirth or jump off of the John Hancock tower.  I wanted to say that, but all I said was "sorry."  It still really upset me though.  Why do bitches gotta be babies like that?  I mean, you have to understand that things are gonna bump into you every now and then.  You can't be so delicate if you want to live in such a rough world.  I dunno.  I think I'm looking at a flower through a magnifying glass while trying to squeeze oil out of it and yelling at it "TELL ME I'M RIGHT".
    Let's see.. what else did I do today... I made almond milk.  That was fun.  It was good.  It tasted like... water and almonds.  It's a work in progress.  Oh yeah, and I ate like ten cookies (eight of them raw) Gosh I was bad today, but it's okay because I am living the loner life once more and no one is going to get in my way to do anything!!  That's what I say now.  Watch me keeping on not doing anything.  Yeah, I'm gonna go sleep now, because for once, I am tired.
Here's a picture of Giles and I that we took the other day  Can't you tell that he loves the camera/me/being not stew?