So

So what happens when you want to kill yourself…maybe…but it’s not worth telling anybody because you know the reaction is going to be anything but who gives a shit??? 

“Oh, she’s just looking for attention”.

SOOOOO?? Maybe she is! Maybe she is grasping for straws! Maybe she is wanting someone to give a damn! Maybe she is hoping someone, somewhere, can breathe life into her pathethic crumbcase of a corpse?

What if she does just want someone to love her? Someone who is not creepy and clearly not  the spiritual realm pushing the boundaries of what is gross and profane? Someone who makes her believe she can attract more than just tank scumb? Someone who is beautiful and is just like dante fro General Hospital???

 

So

So what happens when you want to kill yourself…maybe…but it’s not worth telling anybody because you know the reaction is going to be anything but who gives a shit??? 

“Oh, she’s just looking for attention”.

SOOOOO?? Maybe she is! Maybe she is grasping for straws! Maybe she is wanting someone to give a damn! Maybe she is hoping someone, somewhere, can breathe life into her pathethic crumbcase of a corpse?

What if she does just want someone to love her? Someone who is not creepy and the a

So

So what happens when you want to kill yourself…maybe…but it’s not worth telling anybody because you know the reaction is going to be anything but who gives a shit??? 

“Oh, she’s just looking for attention”.

SOOOOO?? Maybe she is! Maybe she is grasping for straws! Maybe she is wanting someone to giv

So

So what happens when you want to kill yourself…maybe…but it’s not worth telling anybody because you know the reaction is going to be anything but who gives a shit??? 

Oh

So

So what happens when you want to kill yourself…m

I just realized

**a good number of my blog posts are about me bitching about not blogging**

Time to change that.

I will no longer start each new post whining about how regretful I feel that I haven’t been blogging regularly. I will now just blog. About. Whatever.

Which is sort of how I roll anyways.

Or, I will not blog at all.

Which will pretty much speak for itself.

There. I am empowered.

I think I’m entering my Golden Years. I think.

I am working on a parody for this poking fun at our crumbling economy and the collapse of the American Dollar! Hooray!

Jimmy Fallon, I’m Calling for You!

I am writing a song solely and specifically designed to categorically and methodically woo and fetch me one Jimmy Fallon. No, not for such nonsensical sexual purposes like you think I would be attempting to woo Mr. Fallon for. (Although, this girl could only dream). This is a song I am going to make a video to throw on You Tube and do my damndest to get his attention.  And honestly, in this crazy viral video age, I don’t think it’s going to be that hard. If Rebecca Black can do it, I sure as hell better be able to trump that.

It’ll be kinda like an audition! But better, because I’m sure I’ll flash my boobs. Oh wait, I guess I could do that in person too. I just know if I could spend just one hour…well, any length of time…face-to-face with Jimmy, he would see my talent, and he would love me. Period! I have years of material I have worked on and never shown anyone…lest I jinx its magic!  I have been saving it for one man. One man. One man that I seriously believe that if I could get an appointment with him, and had my goods together…we would be good to go. Solid Gold.

I am tired of dreaming. This is my life, and I’m about to make some magic happen, you just watch.

My song is cute. It is kick ass. And when the time is right…you’ll get to see it.

Appropro

In light of Scarlett’s marital woes, I am dedicating one of her own songs to herself. I think she will find it it fitting, touching, winsome… or perhaps just  a touch annoying. But whatever. She’ll at least be happy that I was thinking about her, I’m sure. (*Yes, we are close like that*)

 

And Isn’t it Ironic!

And who would have thought? It really does figure!

I find it highly, highly amusing and am really tripped out by the synchronicity here….

So, If you (who care) can recall, I believe it was Ryan “Sexiest Man Alive” Reynolds who ditched (and whyyyyyyy, because “you outta know” that if you do this, she’s gonna write a really hateful song about you) Alanis Morrissette back in 200-oh wtfeverland, because he was so sooper hot he was gonna bag the world’s most favorite ooberbabe ( or shall I say, ’booberbabe’? ) Scarlett Johansson.  Which he did, he bagged her, dragged her and tagged her as his wife, in a union that at the time I thought was kind of weird, because at the time…did anyone ***really*** know who Ryan Reynolds was?

So now, it looks like Ryan’s choking on a little jagged little pill called Scarlett Johansson dumping his **truly** handsome ass, leaving him with his own case of Scarlett Fever, and his own ’Scarlett’ Letter to boot (the letter would be be “D” for dumbass, that’s what I’m thinking). So where exactly do they put Scarlet Letters these days…do they get branded on the ass, like a cow? Or are they still embroidered on a handsome ascot or kerchief of some sort? I guess the new hip way would be to get it tattooed, like on your forehead. Now that would make a statement.

The even funnier piece to complete this sad little travel puzzle for those who wear helmets, is that Alanis has moved on, and actually managed to spawn her new baby boy in an almost astrologically brilliant touchdown move that coincides and actually somewhat trumps the date of the filing of her former estranged lover’s divorce petition. Huzzah~!!!!!!! Ah ha ha. Exquisite.

And the even BETTER part…the lil’ box o’ massengill apparently has gone back to Alanis for “support” during this tough time. I hope secretly, she kicked him in the ballsack, just a little, because obviously, he outta know by now, he had it coming to him.

I think maybe Ryan and Dave Coulier should get together and maybe start their own little support group, where they could meet up at the movies and reminisce about their happier times with Alanis.

CDInsight.com – News: Alanis Morissette Gives Birth to Ever Imre on Christmas Day.

 

Crap! I don’t like how these photos are going to layout, but I have no more freaking patience.