I’m fearful I’m fearful I’m fearful of flying

and flyying is fearful of me.

you should download mclusky.

oh oh this day is ground breaking you’ll see. as in, I will break something similar to ground. like, say, dirt. you’d get it if you lived in my apartment. actually I don’t even get it and I do. live in my apartment that is.

shit.

I, though it’s against all that I believe in, invited people from work over to my apartment. the third roommate ended up damn near fucking the oily haired chick and fran, an oldskool pothead, dished out healthy portions of her fucked up family life. others came and went and by morning I had considered myself quite the hostess. yes, like the cakes.

at work today a women came in to pick up her dog, I had remembered the woman but not her dog. in order to avoid asking I assumed it was the german shepherd named kyra. I suited the dog up and explained to her that next time she should consider getting a shedless treatment on her. she took the leash and said “thats great but this is not my dog.” well, fuck, you expect me to remember! I remember your dark purple nail polish and how you talked on your hands free cell phone the whole time we did business but fuck I don’t remember your yappy fucking black lab, stupidly named “ebony”. I was embarrassed, as was kyra.

tomorrow I go home to northern california to visit my family who are still in semidenial about my gayness and also differentness. upon receiving a photo of me via email with my freshly dyed blueblack hair my mother, with nothing but genuine concern in her voice, asked “Jaime are you gothic?”

haha. yes mom, and later I am having over my devil worshipping lesbian friends so we can sacrifice goats along with moral values and maybe order a pizza.

I love my family dearly, like a whole lot, but they are just not my type of folk is all. I enjoy partying with my brother but I can’t ever get over the fact that we’re listening to 50 cent and drinking miller light and talking about the new jessica simpson movie. fuuuuck I can’t take it. so, I bitch a lot. I tell them what I think of all their fucking stupid mainstream shiiiiit and how oblivious they are to anything at all reeal or innovative or artistic and they look at me like I’m crazy. like I’m the only one that feels this way and the rest of the world is on their ignorant side. and I’m an asshole, an ego maniac unable to consider someone elses opinion. yes yes, well excuse me for knowing that I’m fucking right when you tell me jessica simpson is a talent. she’s not. that’s simply a fact. and why should I have to consider an opinion that is so clearly uninformed.

my brothers girlfirend of many many years recently got a tit job. I told her through an email how dumb that was and how she is just succumbing to society’s false beauty ideals and she could spend that money on something better to boost her esteem, low self esteem that was only lowered due to these very same ideals. she didnt respond and later my mother told me not to mention it to her.

but why? fucking why can’t I tell her exactly what I think of putting foreign objects into your body to look a little closer to a porn star or a playboy model or any fucking chick in mainstream media. gooood why am I not allowed to tell people how fucking stupid I think they are? If you can’t take it… if you’re not proud of what you’ve done… you shouldn’t have fucking done it in the first place. If she presented a solid defense or at least said “hey fuck you, I don’t have to explain shit to you, I’m happy with what I’ve done” I’d still have a little more respect for her than just saying nothing.

ahajkfgadjfnjdfnojdsnf

yet I promised myself that this time when I go home I will try not to be such a raging fucking bitch. no no, I hate the things they do and how my brother and his girlfriend are so satisfied with mediocrity, but fuck, what can I do? support them or be annoying and helpless. whatever. maybe when I’m thirty I will look back and say “man I was such a little whiney kid about everything when I was twenty”

eh, I’m not thirty yet so FUCK YOU THIRTY YEAR OLD JAIME! hahah.

I dig the unicorns like I havent dug a band in a long time. like, a long time.

like since the yeah yeah yeahs. karen o and I broke up as soon as I saw kathleen hannah dance. man that chick drives me crazy.

speaking of chicks, we go to see a bunch of gay ones in indiana on august second. the girlfriend and I said “you can make out with someone else if I can too” and so we agreed that if the opportunity came about we wouldnt let this little old three year relationship get in the way. we have rules though. perhaps I’ll print up a memo.

alright enough enough