My minor urks and bitches. There is no one to really bitch at, so I put it on the interwebs. It's connected to everything. I figured it could pass along a message for a sista.
"Stand tall, smile bright, and let 'em wonder what secret's making you laugh."
i'm a pretty happy individual. i cry on a regular basis, but mostly because i've been laughing just that hard. i laugh at things going on in my head that have never happened, or happened 3 days ago, and it still cracks me up. i'm easily amused, and will be happy as hell if you simply give me a balloon. if it's shaped like mickeys head, all the better. i am a bucket of fun. i should be a flavor of ice cream, or at the very least, a topping. i once dated a guy that said to understand him, i had to watch "army of darkness". we didn't last very long. i have a few good friends. i want to be an artist when i grow up, but i have crap dexterity, and can't draw, paint or sculpt. i'm just stuck with making writing funny. i am a kinky fuck, and always have been. and i've finally come to terms with it, but i'm still mad that i've never been kidnapped by david bowie and michael j fox like i wanted when i was six. it's one of my life's biggest disappointments, aside from not being rich and famous for no discernible reason. cheetos are an awesome revenge tactic. blah, blah, blah.
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