small feats, huge feet; big fucking snapping turtles

Snapping turtles are like regular turtles that were raped repeatedly throughout their entire lives and ended up as cracked out bag ladies, that carry around rusty knives and use them too much.

Yesterday as much of a trancendentalist experience as you can have at the Somerset club. It was followed by chilling on a stoop, too much coffee, and finally being awake until 4 in the A.M. thinking my entire body was going to fail me or that the snapping turtle was going to come back to bite my throat out.


Anywho, there have been a lot of rumors floating around about me lately, so I will lay them to rest in order of which ones starting to circulate first.

- Over the summer I did kill a man using only my penis.
- I did not ever record a Christmas album with Alvin and the Chipmunks.
- I did not do a backflip upon exiting the womb and having my umbilical chord cut.
- My favorite smell is water.
- I did once eat so much yogurt that my tears were a green paste, and so was my urine.
- I really can't construct a good joke without including my penis or something else sex related or disgusting.
- I did not get shot in the back of the neck by a stray cannon ball, but I did once run into a sliding glass door thinking it was open.
- I once contracted lyme disease from drinking bad gatorade.
- I do sometimes run out of ideas.

-

Oh week, you have been so relentlessly mediocore.


I'm not sure if your face can actually get stuck in place if you keep making the same face, but I hope not. My jaw has been stuck in a really tight position all day. I also grind my teeth without knowing that I'm doing it, which is probably also problem-causing.

Five Guys' food is diarrhea disguised as delcious burgers.


My posts are getting mighty lazy.

it's an update.

Another good weekend. I put out a fire (srysly), bought some new clothes, collected a lot of new music, almost got fucked over, got fucked over (and up), sort of paid someone back, and more.

Let's all hope there's more to say tomorrow.

dear god, are you there? it's me, margaret.

ANGER.

funerals, falling into bushes, etc.

This has been a weird week to say the least. I'm not going to get into this a whole lot, because I honestly didn't know Joe Boxler that well and I think there isn't much else to say that hasn't already been said, but suffice to say that seeing just about every person you know being collectively sad over something you know you would be equally sad about had you known the person better is pretty shitty, though not nearly as terrible as it is for the people who knew Joe and were friends/family members.


The weekend was otherwise epic and action-packed and involves me making an idiot out of myself many times over, but instead of going into specifics I will just give you a list of things that raise my blood pressure, give me nosebleeds, and will probably cause me to become impotent by the time I'm 23.


- The delete button on my keyboard not working.
- Mowing the lawn
- The people who live behind my house, who can plant trees past their property line but can't be bothered by mowing past it, and the area happens to be a hill that it is a complete pain in my vagina to mow.
- Calling someone or something unamerican. This entire country was founded on the belief that you can do whatever you want without anybody telling you otherwise, which makes labeling something as unamerican unamerican. Idiots.
- Not being sure what punctuation to use when you use the same word twice in a row.
- Those anti-smoking ads that feature that douchey looking college know-it-all guy with the weird hair.
- Douchey looking college kids who think they know everything