The Troof? About The Beatles, Manson,Helter Skelter,Roman Polanski and How I Figured Out I’m Rosemary’s Baby

Yep, that’s ME. Well, at least, that’s how I feel most of the time,lolololololol………. Hey, I was born in 1969, I was adopted…I have 6 toes on each of my cloven feet…

HA! My feet are funky, but not quite to that extent.

So, this is what I read about the Beatles, The Devil, the Manson murders and the Polanski connection. It’s copied from the website http://stargods.org/BeatlesEvil.html.

The Beatles were satanists that had made a pact with the devil, and the bill had to be paid to the coven. Every band that has made a pact with satan has had a member die. Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Beatles, The Who, etc. In an interview with Barbara Walters, Lennon assassin Mark David Chapman clearly demonstrated that he was a satanist. In other words he was an errand boy collecting the payment for satan’s bill.

“Alone in my apartment back in Honolulu, I would strip naked and put on Beatles records and pray to Satan to give me the strength. I prayed for demons to enter my body to give me the power to kill” (cited by Evangelist Richard Ciarrocca, Observations, Dec. 1990).

“In his book, The Ultimate Evil, investigator-author Maury Terry writes that between 1966 and 1967, the Satanic cult, the Process Church, ’sought to recruit the Beatles.’”

The Beatles’ Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album was dedicated to satanist Aleister Crowley. It was released 20 years, nearly to the day, after Crowley’s death in 1947. The title song with the lyrics, “It was twenty years ago today…” On the album cover we see a collection of the Beatles personal heros. Aleister Crowley appears there.

Crowley was born in 1875 and was called the “Great Beast.” He was known to practice ritual child sacrifice regularly, in his role as Satan’s high priest or “Magus.” Crowley died in 1947 due to complications of his huge heroin addiction. Before dying, he succeeded in establishing Satanic covens in many U.S. cities including Hollywood. Kenneth Anger, like Crowley, is a Magus, and appears to be the heir to Crowley. Anger was seventeen years old when Crowley died. In that same year, 1947, Anger was already producing and directing films which, even by today’s standards, reek of pure evil.” – http://www.geocities.com/mmiddleton87/

A key link between the Beatles and the Process Church is Kenneth Anger, a follower of the “founding father” of modern Satanism, Aleister Crowley. Anger, born in 1930, and a child Hollywood movie star, became a devoted disciple of Crowley.

The movie Rosemary’s baby was filmed in the Dakota building were John Lennon was shot to death. It also appears that John Lennon knew the director personally. “The Director of Rosemary’s Baby was Roman Polanski. (At a party in California in 1973, Lennon ‘went berserk, hurling a chair out the window, smashing mirrors, heaving a TV against the wall, and screaming nonsense about film director Roman Polanski being to blame’ – Giuliano)

It’s also interesting to note that when the Beatles went to India to see the Yogi, John Lennon took along Mia Farrow star of the movie Rosemary’s Baby. It would appear that birds of the same occult coven flock together.

Did this nobody Director make a pact with the Hollywood coven in order that he be given a very choice script. So what is the price for fame in the underworld. It is the killing of your baby! This fact is even stressed in the movie. The coven in the movie demand Rosemary’s baby in return for her husband’s success and Hollywood fame.

It was an amazing coincidence that the film had a plot that would be similarly played out a year later – Polanski’s pregnant actress/wife Sharon Tate would be murdered by Charles Manson’s followers.

The murder of his wife appears to be pre-payment for an Academy Award nomination for Polanski’s Best Adapted Screenplay. This movie was a critically-acclaimed and a commercially successful film.

Weeks before Lennon’s death, on his latest album there was a song by Yoko Ono titled Kiss Kiss Kiss. When played backwards one can hear Yoko say, “I shot John Lennon.” This is the same album that John Chapman listened to over and over again! Was Chapman under mind control induced by the album.

Now enter another mind control victim by the name of Charles Manson another santanic bill collector. His followers saw to it that Roman Polanski’s wife was killed along with the baby. In the movie Rosemary’s Baby, it is stressed that there is occult power in babies blood. Could this be the reason why Sharon Tate’s baby was almost taken out of the womb by Susan Aktins Sadie who wanted to cut out the baby, but couldn’t because there hadn’t been time. They wanted to take out the eyes of the people, and squash them against the walls, and cut off their fingers. “We were going to mutilate them, but we didn’t have a chance to.”

Rosemary the main character in the movie, and was to have her baby taken away, had the nickname “Ro.” I wonder what Roman Polanski’s (who in real life had his baby murdered) nick name was? By the way, holly wood is what magicians wands are made from, and stars are the points of light that shine forth Lucifer’s occultist wisdom.

Now that we know Mark Chapman and Manson were receiving messages from albums, let’s take it even further. Remember the Beatles White Album that Charles Manson received his murderous orders from.

Sexy Sadie what have you done

On the album there is a song called Sexy Sadie. Well it turns out that this was the nickname of Susan Atkins. Now “Sadie Mae Glutz was the alias given to the Family member Susan Atkins by Manson even before the appearance of the White Album song ‘Sexy Sadie!’ -http://www.phinnweb.com/livingroom/rosemary/

It was Sadies testimony in court that brought an end to the Manson family. Now read the lyrics below from the Beatles song Sexy Sadie.

Sexy Sady “White album” Year 1968

Sexy Sadie what have you done
You made a fool of everyone
You made a fool of everyone
Sexy Sadie ooh what have you done.

Sexy Sadie you broke the rules
You layed it down for all (the court) to see
You layed it down for all to see
Sexy Sadie oooh you broke the rules.

One sunny day the world was waiting for a lover
She came along to turn on everyone
Sexy Sadie the greatest (Manson killer)of them all.

(Susan Atkins was a sexual lover of the Manson family)

Sexy Sadie how did you know
The world was waiting just for you
The world was waiting just for you
Sexy Sadie oooh how did you know.

Sexy Sadie you’ll get yours yet
However big you think you are
However big you think you are
Sexy Sadie oooh you’ll get yours yet.

Susan Atkins often bragged and boasted.

We gave her everything we owned just to sit at her table
Just a smile would lighten everything
Sexy Sadie she’s the latest and the greatest of them all.

She made a fool of everyone
Sexy Sadie.

However big you think you are
Sexy Sadie.
Brackets by author.

Another nickname of Susan Atkins was Sadie Mae Glutz

Maggie Mae (Written by Lennon/McCartney/Harrison/Starkey)
Album “Let it be” Year 1970

Oh dirty Maggie Mae they have taken her away
And she never walk down Lime Street any more
Oh the judge he guilty found her
For robbing a homeward bounder
That dirty no good robbin’ Maggie Mae
To the port of Liverpool
They returned me to
Two pounds ten a week, that was my pay.

Beatles “Let It Be” Album
May 8th 1970

Speculation: Could the above lyrics also be a metaphor for black mail?

So why was Sharon Tate chosen to die. My feeling is that Roman Polanski made a pact with the Hollywood coven. This was an exchange for his child so that he be given fame and success. He was a nobody movie director till he was handed a script that would make him an instant success. So why give a major script to a basically unknown director and not a well established director? Why is because of his agreed sacrificial offering that would have to be made in the future. Manson would be the grocery clerk coming for the payment of the bill.

Suasan Atkins Sadie had stated that Sharon Tate had been the last to die because, “She had to watch the others die.” By all accounts, Tate died in excruciating fear and agony. Bugliosi gives Atkins’ account: she was holding Sharon Tate at the time and, “Tex came back and he looked at her and he said, ‘Kill her.” And I killed her… And I just stabbed her and she fell, and I stabbed her again. I don’t know how many times I stabbed her…” Sharon begged for the life of her baby, but Atkins told her, “Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Before he killed him, Charles “Tex” Watson told Voytek Frykowski: ‘I am the Devil and I am here to do the Devil’s business.’” Months later at the trial, Manson’s “disciples” were said to have been utterly under his power.

The Beatles

“They’re COMPLETELY ANTI-CHRIST. I mean, I am anti-Christ as well, but they’re so anti-Christ they shock me which isn’t an easy thing.” Derek Taylor, Press Officer for the Beatles

“I believed that he was Satan himself at times” George Martin, Beatles Producer

“Jesus, a garlic-eating, stinking little yellow, greasy fascist bastard catholic Spaniard.” (John Lennon, A Spaniard in the Works, p.14)

“Christianity will go, it will vanish and shrink. I needn’t argue about that. I’m right and will be proved right. You just wait.. . .We’re more powerfull than Jesus ever was..” John Lennon

Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme

Amazing too is how years later with President Ford in the White House, then Vice President Nelson Rockefeller was just a heartbeat away from becoming leader of the free world. With Rocky as Vice President, if anything should befall Ford at that time, he would instantly become President. Well, time to send in Manson’s followers once again.

One of his followers Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme who steps out in a failed assassination attempt against President Ford. (September 5, 1975) Two weeks later another woman Sara Jane Moore attempts another assassination San Francisco with a handgun. (September 22, 1975)

Squeaky claimed that she did not attempt to kill President Ford, because she never injected a bullet from the handle into the chamber. Was she under mind control? Could she of been programmed just to show up with a gun?

John Lennon Murder

“HINCKLEY followed as exactly as he possibly could EVERY SINGLE MOVE that Mark David CHAPMAN had made, in the days before CHAPMAN murdered John Lennon.

Even MORE bizarre: at the time of their respective arrests following both shooting incidents, John Hinckley AND Mark David Chapman were each carrying on their person a paperback copy of the J.D. Salinger novel, ’CATCHER IN THE RYE.’ (AS did the MK-Ultra mind-controlled assassin Jerry played by Mel Gibson in the surprisingly revealing movie Conspiracy Theory.)

J.D. Salinger, certainly a gifted author, had SUBSTANTIAL and enduring ties to the U.S. intelligence community; in particular, the CIA. Was the book originally intended to be a mind-control programming tool? It’s hard to say, but not inconceivable.

SO: Hinckley traced Chapman’s footsteps, as it were, in an incredibly eerie AND incredibly REVEALING, scripted tableau; which culminated, as it did with Chapman, in mind-controlled Manchurian Candidate assassin Hinckley shooting his prey on the New York City streets.

Which indeed, brings up yet a FURTHER point. Hinckley FIRST CAME to New York WELL BEFORE his attempt to assassinate Reagan, in order to prepare himself for his assigned role by imitating Chapman’s moves and actions of a few months before.

SO: HOW did Hinckley KNOW, several weeks BEFORE-hand, that Reagan was going to be at the place in New York City were Hinckley would shoot him, AND the DAY and TIME Reagan would be there??

SOMEBODY on the “INSIDE,” who knew Reagan’s schedule some time in advance, positioned Hinckley in New York well before the date of the attempted assassination of Reagan.

Somebody like George BUSH, Sr., maybe? Trying to get a jump on taking over as President? Or, maybe just sending ol’ Ronnie a VERY strong, clear message about who the “boss” really was…
Written by NewsHawk

Recently George Harrison died from cancer. In the murky world of the occult there are many convenient deaths due to cancer. The occult bill collector had already come once in a previous failed attempt to kill Harrison with a knife. I find this rather curios when comparing real life to the Beatle movie called Help. In the movie Ringo is given a ring that makes him the target of a cult which wants to sacrifice him! They continually chase after him with a knife!

SANTA MONICA, December 30, 1999 — Another Beatle victimized by violence.

Ex-Mop Top George Harrison was stabbed at his London-area home today by a knife-wielding intruder, reports say.

Harrison, 56, was stabbed once in the chest before fending off the attacker. His wife, Olivia, suffered minor head injuries in the attack, but did not require hospitalization….The attack, which reportedly took place sometime around 3:30 a.m. London time, was said to have shocked residents of the quiet, upper-class community of Henley-On-Thames. Harrison’s estate was thought to be particularly well guarded. It reportedly featured 24-hour security, patrol dogs and barbed wire fencing. British authorities said they were investigating burglary as a possible motive.

A 33-year-old man — a resident of the Beatles’ own Liverpool — was arrested and booked on suspicion of attempted murder.

Harrison’s stabbing comes 19 years after fellow ex-bandmate John Lennon was shot and killed outside his New York apartment by obsessed fan Mark David Chapman.

By Jim Bartoo, Hollywood.com Staff
Occultists often use so called sacred numbers to bring them power. Sacrifices are often made on the bases of these numbers. Prime sacred numbers are 3, 6, 7, 9, 11. Sacred multiples are 19, 21, 33.

Note the year that Harrison’s attack took place. It was in 1999. Inverted with the number one left out you have 666, the most sacred number of all. He was 56 years old. 5+6= 11 which is a very sacred number. Note too that he is stabbed by a man who just happens to be 33 years old. This too is a very sacred number since it is 3X11. He was also attacked around 3:30 am (33).

Another interesting event was that Prime Minister Chretien of Canada was attacked by a young man with knife too. The man somehow got through the intense home security and found his way in to into the Prime Ministers home late at night. This murder attempt too had failed.

Conclusion

My feeling is that that the Beatles were members of the same Hollywood occult coven that Roman Polanski was. The Movie Rosemary’s Baby was a future template of what was going to happen to Polanski’s wife Sharon Tate. Also the songs recorded by the Beatles seem to indicate that they knew what was going to take place. I believe that songs like Helter Skelter, which Charles Manson felt he got his orders to kill from, were recorded by the Beatles for that express purpose.

As in the movie Rosemary’s Baby, I believe Sharon Tate was manipulated and set up by all the people that she trusted and loved including her own husband. She was the sacrifice to satan for all Polanski’s success. I for one was not fooled by his tears during his interviews.

At some point, Farrow allegedly feared she would be the next victim of the murder spree

1968 excursion to India, and John Lennon of The Beatles wrote ‘Dear Prudence’ (also a song on White Album) for Mia Farrow’s younger sister

Mark Chapman was the name of Lennon’s killer – Winifred Chapman was the maid who had first found the bodies at 10050 Cielo Drive.

And, I also feel that Anton Szandor LaVey, the founder of The Church of Satan – to whom the Family members (especially Susan Atkins)is the leader of the Hollywood Coven.

Coincidences

Roman Polanski movie,
Knife in the Water 1962

George Harrison attacked by man with knife.

All through the movie Help, Ringo Star is often chased by religious fanatics that are armed with a knife.

Susan Atkins was going to remove Sharon Tates baby with a knife.

Notes and Quotes

Sharon Tate’s unborn baby, killed by the Manson family, was named Paul Richard Polanski.

Theatrical Release: Rosemary’s Baby
June 12 1968

There is no comfort in the coven of the witch Some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch And the only man of energy, (Manson) yes the revolution’s pride (Manson) He trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.
—Leonard Cohen-
“No Diamonds in the Mine”

Sharon Tate
Date of birth (location)
24 January 1943, Dallas, Texas, USA
Date of death:
9 August 1969,

Note the three 9s in this date. Inverted it becomes 666! The number of Rosemary’s baby.

Rosemary’s Baby

Dandy Szandy, Helter Skelter, Rosemary’s Baby, and Other Items Of Inspiration

Ok. So, if you recall from my earlier posts from yesterday, the last few weeks have been a bit emotionally tumultuous for LeDonna. After a sudden, but much needed move away from her emotionally bloodsucking psychic vampire of a job at Matt’s In The Market, LeDonna ended up with too much time on her hands and no refills on her psychotropics, and plunged head first into yet another dreaded ShameSpiral. {Personally, I’m beginning to believe she quite likes these ShameSpirals she’s always twisting about in, since she seems to travel down them quite frequently. I think they are kind of like an amusement park ride for her, like that Barrel Of Monkeys ride she loved so much at AstroWorld as a young child. It’s the adrenaline. You know how those addictive types are!} In fact, this was not just any old ShameSpiral…this one was supermassive, more like a ShameVortex. (Hey, I like that. Can I get a patent on that?)

So, as I was feeding the flames of the firey inferno of despair in my mind with the DuraFlame Logs of misery via Sylvia Plath, I became completely entranced and intoxicated with the macabre and fiendishly morbid parallels between the suicide deaths of Plath and later Assia Wevill…both poets, both the female companions of Ted Hughes, himself one of the most brilliant poets of his generation. Obviously, Plath was his his wife, and was suffering from her own mental maladies well before her relationship began with Hughes, but arguably it was Hughes infidelity with Wevill that led to the couple’s separation, and ultimately, what pushed Plath over the edge to suicide. But what was even more disturbing was the fact that Wevill ended up taking her own life six years after Sylvia…in the exact same manner, with a gas oven. Creepy, huh? Oh but WAIT, there’s more! Prior to gassing herself to death, Assia Wevill snuffed out the 3-year-old child she shared with Hughes, a little girl they called Shura.

Well, Hughes Shura had a clusterfuck of just royally bad luck snowball of his lying, cheating, devil-worshipping ass. Karma’s a bitch, huh, sucka?! What kind of freakish monster would drive two women beyond the point of madness, to a place where they felt an open gas oven would be the best place to poke their head in to get a breath of fresh air?

I don’t know. He looks pretty creepy to me. I don’t know what they saw in him to begin with, maybe he put a love spell on them with all that black magic he was doing.

So, after spending sufficient time sniffing out the coffers of the Plath tragedy, I decided to further feed my insatiable desire to devour all things aberrant, ghoulish and utterly disturbing by feasting at the Old Country Buffet of internet urban legends and conspiracy theories. Before me was a smorgasborg of saucy soul-sapping tales of Illuminati, covert messages, backwards maskings, Hollywood covens and sacrifices to satan, assasination plots, apocalyptic doomsday prophesies…

Why, why, WHY??? am I so fascinated by what is peculiar, weird, anti-social, and slightly off? Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly have that ultra-femme girly girl in me that loves all things luminous, sparkling and pretty, but there is also this really dark streak in me that is just fantastically entertained by the foul and profane. If given the choice of watching either a story about fluffy bunnies making the cancer kids happy, or picking apart the autopsy details of a murder-suicide…I’ll pick the cadaver, every time.

Except at Easter. Then fluffy bunnies are kewl.

So, for whatever reason, since I’m ruminating on Ted Hughes and the negative consequences resulting from his careless and glib invocations of demons and such (Handy Hint, people…if there is any nugget of advice you can take away from this post today, it should be this…please, please, PLEASE, never just ‘casually’ summon a demon or some other nefarious death force, just because you think it’s ‘fun!’ or ‘exciting!’, or ‘I’m not even sure this bullshit is real!’-because-IT IS. Even if you don’t think you’ve seen something big bad and ugly and all you conjuring has been in vain…trust me people. Folks who tend to go around asking for the presence of evil to show itself, unfortunately, end up getting just what they asked for…and often times it’s not what, when, or where it was expected. )

Ok. Ted Hughes, occult, black magic, bad luck…where do I turn to next for more stories of idiots who sell their souls to the Unfriendly One and lived to tell (or maybe not!)??

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! JUST JOKING!!! Ok, for real:

I think my abnornal fear of the devil stems from my early childhood. This was one of the first records Mama gave me as a little girl, it was under the Christmas Tree along with The Sesame Street Alphabet Album.

As a sign of my innate musical proclivities, I soon became bored with the banal whimperings of Grover and Big Bird, and knew all my devil-hating inspirational hymns by heart. I yearned for a new sound, something fresh, but with an edge.

I recalled how profoundly The Beatles had affected me as a young child. Did you know this album was dedicated to Aleister Crowley, the famous occultist? He’s on the cover. You know, since I was lonely and ignored most of the time as a kid, it left me all kinds of time for deep thoughts and meditation. I would lay on my belly and spend hours staring and drooling at all the famous faces on the cover of Sgt. Pepper’s. One time Mama gave me too much of my asthma syrup, and one night when I was lying in my playpen I started trippin’ balls while listening to A Day In the Life...and I swear, I started having visions of this guy:

That’s Mr. Lavey. His full name is Anton Szandor Lavey, but I like to call him Szandy. At first, I thought he might be my real daddy, since he was real pale and bald, just like me. Plus, he looked really mean and like he didn’t like me too much, probably another characteristic my biological father possessed. I quickly realized that whew, much to my relief, he wasn’t my father…(or…was he??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!***** )

Turns out, Dandy Szandy there heads up a special church called The Church Of Satan. It’s a chuch for people who don’t seem to like God, or believe in the Baby Jesus. These are people who feel the traditional Christian philosophy , which consists of boring laws like don’t lie, steal, or kill (YAWN!)which are just a drag! and they want to reserve their God- given hedonistic right to do cool stuff like sacrifice small animals while wearing sassy capes, throw curses on dimwitted idiots who cut them off on the freeway or leave the toilet seat up, be really really mad all the time, just cause they can, and to compulsively ram/rub their genitalia up, on or about anything, and absolutely everything they damn well please.

UP NEXT: The amazing link I discovered (gasps!) between Satan, The Beatles, Aleister Crowley, Charles Manson, Roman Polanski, Rosemary’s Baby, Me, David Hasselhoff, and potted meat products.

***** indicates more information regarding this ridiculous delusion will be provided in the upcoming post.

It’s Been An Interesting Week Here In Loonsville

Look everybody, I finally got a book written about me! It’s about damn time.

Wow. It has been a hell of time for me these past few weeks, and “hell” would be an amusingly appropriate metaphor, as the firey bowels of the netherworld seem to have been the most prevalent topic on my mind. I spent a lot of time this week immersed in subjects of the occult, the bizarre, the strange. I like to feed on news of the paranormal much like a mosquito likes to siphon the putrescent blood of the diseased. I ingest it greedily, then it festers in my brain for a while until it transmutes into a giant tumor of dread and paranoia. This tumor of terror will continue to grow and metastasize rampantly throughout my head, heart, and gut until any prognosis of clear and rational thinking is completely eradicated. This is probably not a good afternoon pastime for someone like myself who is prone to bouts of paranoia and illogical thinking. But since when has that ever stopped me? Sometimes the worse I know something is for my health and sanity, the more likely I am to engorge myself with it.

I think that is called ’self-destructive behavior’. Hmmpf. I may have to look into that one.

Thank God I found myself a new job and I am back in the saddle again. I was off for about 3 weeks after leaving Matt’s. Although it was a good move for me and produced a much needed change in my life, the way it all went down really shoved me right back down into {ANOTHER! YAWN!!!!} massive shame spiral that plummeted me down to depths of darkness I hadn’t seen in at least 2 or 3 days prior to stumbling into this particular spiral. Yeah, I was feeling pretty low.

*Helpful Hint* Really depressed people really probably shouldn’t read Sylvia Plath, or listen to Sylvia Plath reading Sylvia Plath. Yeah. Probably not a good idea.

Oh Sylvia. How I love you. You are the emotionally imbalanced lunachick’s ultimate muse. I’m not sure which is more facinating-the darkly bewitching madness of your writing, or the even crazier truth behind your life. And has anyone ever told you, that the way you read those poems of yours is kinda creepy, too ? I never realized your voice was so…well,haunting. Yeah, it is, really. It really is. I got sucked into watching some clips about you on YouTube and heard the audio of you reciting “Daddy” and “Lady Lazarus” among others. Really brilliant, I have to hand it to you, but as if you and all your damn insanity and suicide and creepy husband Ted Hughes and all weren’t enough to disturb the bejeezus out of me, the malfeasant sound of your voice as you pound out word after word with such an angry froth…it was just downright diabolical. Don’t do that next time, ok, Sylvia? Try to lighten up a little bit, you’re not the only one who gets bummed out, you know. You don’t have to be such a downer. The way you drone on, it’s enough to make someone stick their head in an oven and turn the gas up, and you don’t want that to happen, do you? No, of course not, because gas is really fucking expensive right now, whether it’s for your car or to light your oven to kill yourself.

Try looking on the bright side once in a while, maybe catch an old episode of the Brady Bunch. Especially the ones where the kids sing “Sunshine Day”.

See! Those crazy Bradys always bring a little sunshine into my day. That is, until I notice how thin, popular and pretty Marcia is…and I’m not! Everybody always pays attention to Marcia, and never to me. Marcia always gets the boys, Marcia always gets good grades, Marcia never ever has a bad hair day, Marcia’s poop smells like Chanel No. 5. FUCK MARCIA! MARCIA! MARCIA! MARCIA!

Wow. Gotta get that neurosis of mine under control…

Hear Sylvia Read ‘Lady Lazarus’…Tell Me This Doesn’t Freak The Fuck Out Of You!

Sylvia Plath Reads Lady Lazarus

Lord, Why Am I Such A Damn Slob?

Hey, ya’ll like the latest shot I added to my portfolio? I don’t know, I’m just not as pasty and bloated in this one, I don’t know if I’m comfortable with it. I asked the makeup girl to go a little lighter with the bronzer, but she just kept puffing my face shouting, “Miami! Miami! Miami!” I guess she’s trying to get me ready for all those bikini shoots I have scheduled down in South Beach. Which reminds me, I hope those custom snakeskin thongs I ordered are ready, I sure have been looking forward to them. And man, I think I need to grab some more root touch up while I’m on my frozen burrito/gatorade run to Rite Aid. Didn’t realize I was showing so much gray!

All my life, I have had a bit of a problem in the slob department.  The problem seems to stem from the fact that I am a slob. I have tried many times over the course of my life to rectify and cure myself of this sloppiness, but every time I try to clean up and get myself organized, I just get distracted, bored, or just plain fall asleep.

I can tell it’s starting to grate on my boyfriend’s nerves, he shows it in all these really funny passive aggressive ways, like calling me names under his breath while taking the teetering tower of Diet Coke cans I piled so delicately and skillfully out to recycling (Doode! It’s Modern Art!), cursing as he trips over the 12 pairs of heels strewn about the living room floor (Honey, they’re part of my new workout routine called Hopscotch Hurdles. You’re supposed to jump over them! Now, don’t be a spoilsport, just do it, hop! it’s good for your heart) and tossing the 118 months of back issues of CatFancy I had loving accumulated even though I don’t own a cat out the window in a fit of fury (Hey! I WAS SAVING THOSE FOR A REASON!!!!!). I don’t get what his problem is. It’s not like a months accumulation of Qtips encrusted in earwax is a health concern or anything. Sheesh, lighten up. I try to make the trash can, sometimes, I just miss and forget about them. You’re not perfect either,you know.

I’ve been this way all my life, although I’m not sure why. Maybe it does stem from Mama, she was a bit of a packrat. She used to keep EVERYTHING, and I mean EVERYTHING. Instead of buying me toys, she used to give me bags of her old prescription pill bottles and empty Afrin Nose Sprays to play with. Which was kinda fun, all my dollies were so healthy and always had the cleanest nasal passages! I remember one time when I was in high school, my friend Jarrod was over and he started going through this drawer of random shit in our den, and he pulls out this bottle filled with what appeared to be maybe rocks of some form or another, or perhaps some miscellaneous car parts leftover from a tune up, and asks me what exactly they were. Upon closer inspection, I realized that those had been Mama’s leftover teeth from when she had them pulled and gotten her dentures.

Why she was saving them, I could only imagine. Maybe she thought they were heirlooms, and wanted to pass them down to me as part of her legacy. I imagine that’s probably the only thing she’d leave me in her will.

If you were to peer into my room as a little girl, and didn’t know who lived in it, you would most likely have concluded that this was a crawling hole for a schizophrenic rat from the land of H.R. Puffinstuff, or wondered if Sanford and Sons had expanded their business by opening a shop out on Sesame Street. (Did you guys miss that episode?) The floor just always seemed like a logical place to store things. It’s not like I used the floor to actually walk around on or anything, so I needed all my key items piled up close to me where I could reach them without breaking a sweat.

Every year at school, I would start out so resolute, with all my nice new folders and dividers, determined to make this year the best year ever! and transform myself into this UBER-organized autotron, consistently and effortlessly filing every scrap of schoolwork neatly into its rightfully designated place. “I will be organized this year!” I would chant to myself. “I will be successful! I’m going to pay attention and make good grades and be the best little Aldine Senior High School Student, EVER!”

And then, I’d get a crush on some stupid boy who had no idea I existed and would have screamed in terror if he had have known I existed, and daydream about having sex with him all day long, even though I had never had sex or even been kissed, but -I had read a lot about it in Cosmopolitan and those Penthouse Forums my dad used to sell at his grocery store, and so I had a pretty good idea what it was all about. {editor’s note-evil grin right here}Needless to say, although my mind was focused on biology, it wasn’t exactly the type that would get me a passing grade, and I became easily frustrated, and not just sexually….I just started cramming papers wherever, whenever I bothered to even to the work, and by the middle of the semester my locker looked like I must have been studying up hard for Bag Lady 101 or maybe Advanced Theorums In Hoboitry. In fact, my senior year, I was voted Most Likely To Reside Out The Cardboard Recycling by a panel of my teachers and counselors. I love awards, so I was pretty stoked to have been recognized.

But you know, it does get a little old struggling with the same old self-defeating habits, and I guess it would be nice to maybe wake up and not think, “Damn girl, you smell like foot”. I have been trying harder to change lately, but it’s one hell of a process. Every day, I pray soooooo hard, “Pleeeeeeaaase God! Make me a Type A personality. Even just for a day. PLEASE!” And everyday, I’m lucky if I come up a Type B-. It’s just really hard when you have a hard time paying attention, and your mind wanders, and you can’t ever finish what you sta