greaseballs, not gringos.

Sat, 11 Nov 2006 00:39:12 GMT

I forgot I can't swim.

Fri, 10 Nov 2006 03:42:02 GMT

You just shit your pants and dive in and swim.

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 04:30:47 GMT

Fact:

1 out of 10 ten proms will be ruined by your drunken jealous roomate.

Thu, 07 Sep 2006 03:13:33 GMT

This is what goes ons:

-I abuse the words 'party ball'.
-I play strip croquet and win.
-I get unsuspecting jazz players arrested a few short feet away from unsuspecting baptists.
-I enjoy Songs for a New World and eat crawfish with Jared Anderson.
-I never see Stephanie Grady.
-I never see Laura Smith.
-I am depressed by the two aforementioned items.
-I cannot enter the Coco. She fucking hates me.
-I do not like midget hippies.
-I do not like amazon hippies.
-I do not like any fucking hippies.
-I do enjoy Tropical Storm Ernesto and how it sends me big-tittied blondes from Charleston.
-I do not enjoy being trashed in the presence of my teacher, again.
-I go to Nashville with older gentlemen friends and break into the Opryland Hotel Delta Ballroom, where I steal sorbets and eat them with soldiers.
-I am addicted to fargle.
-I have a lovely relationship with a lovely boy... he just happens to live 4 hours away and has a face like a fucking femur.

I'm still kind of a big deal here. Duty calls.

Sat, 12 Aug 2006 01:38:59 GMT

One night at the Delta Chi house and I'm already a legend.
It's good to be queen.

Sat, 05 Aug 2006 01:21:51 GMT

come listen to my story I'll tell you no lies
how John Lewis did murder little Omie Wise.
he asked her to meet him at Adams’s spring,
said he'd bring her money and other fine things.
so fool-like she met him at Adams’s spring,
no money he brought her nor other fine things.
"john Lewis, john Lewis won't you tell me your mind,
do you intend to marry me or leave me behind?"
"little Omie, little Omie I'll tell you my mind,
my plan is to drown you and leave you behind."
"have mercy on my baby and spare me my life,
I'll go home as a beggar and never be your wife."
he hugged her and he kissed her and turned her around
and threw her in deep water where he knew she would drown.

nature's candy in my hand or a can or a pie.

Wed, 02 Aug 2006 01:36:32 GMT

Tres Things:

1. Will & Grace Moment Supreme: (From Me to Eric)
"You think a drag race is when they tie a queen to the back of a car."

2. I can now honestly say I have shaved my legs in a McDonald's Drive-Thru.
Twas painful, yet somehow gravely necesscary.

3. No Smitty = No fun.

Thu, 27 Jul 2006 12:41:07 GMT

I should have known going on a road trip with Eric Browne would enlist the following phrases:

♥ Do not turn around for that giant vat of sperm. We are all work and no play.
♥ Goddamn you, statutory rape laws! This legislation is bullshit.
♥ Hello, bubble-butt.
♥ Cock! Cock! Pull over! I want a picture with that giant cock!
♥ "Make a left turn up dere at the whoppah house." "Excuse me?"
♥ I about to pass a fucking goula in my pants.
♥ Is that the beach? I can't tell.
♥ 'Did you just piss in their basement?'-'Yeah, I guess that's what that is'
♥ I going to shit a pillow tonight.

Twas enjoyable.

Sun, 02 Jul 2006 23:40:59 GMT

I've come to the conclusion that loving Amanda is easy, because she's the least fucked up of everyone I know. That's includes family. I do not enjoy seeing exes. Especially when it's not the one I want to run into. I keep having near death experiences all over New Market. Not enjoying that either. I read too much, eat ice cream, and then run on the treadmill. I'd rather be in Montevallo, with its neverending series of drama and bad chinese buffets.

Oh, and I went to jail.

Fri, 23 Jun 2006 21:34:00 GMT

Cremeplease [4:27 PM]: be my dream lover
Mandylee87 [4:27 PM]: i think i already am

Tue, 20 Jun 2006 19:38:11 GMT

Ms. Noble Gas meet Mr. Catalyst.
I finally took everyone's advice, but it wasn't pretty.
I was, but it wasn't.

Sat, 10 Jun 2006 04:24:41 GMT

I'm fucked up, at a stranger's house in huntsville, and amanda's cold hand is in my crack. cece likes whitey preteens. vic is having conversational sex with someone named 'wires'. alan jones, who peed on me in kintergarden is orchestrating these substance-fueled activies.

New Cold Hand in Crack. Boy. Less than 12.

Tue, 23 May 2006 02:43:09 GMT

I'm pretty much involved in the worst living arrangement ever.
Cause me and my ovaries just can't seem to get along.

Someone buy me a black market hysterectomy for my birthday.

I need bitches in my life. The Blondes + The Falconettes + The Salemz.
I miss their faces.

Montevallo is eh.
Birmingham is gross-scary-creepy-haze of alcoholism.

Some short guy threatened to have me thrown in the trunk of car and killed or something.

I haven't had internet in nine days. Ridiculous.

My hormones are out of control and I really shouldn't be talking to boys. Even the gay ones.

No, seriously.

My hormones are fucking out of control.
I could hump a pair of pliers right now.

Why else would I be having hot flashes?

My names is McMenses and my flow be fresh.

samford sucks.

Sat, 13 May 2006 17:27:12 GMT

Now that I'm sober I don't dig on guys who don't drink, but believed every word of Loose Change. Idiot Republican Homophobic Shitdicks kill my buzz and then try to set me on fire.

I always lose potentials after the first political rant.

---I think I'm addicted to tanning and I want moleskines for my birthday. Mmk.

Wed, 03 May 2006 06:32:26 GMT

Throatfucking lessons to 4th-graders.
I like mexican painter boys, apparently.
Relationship talks are stupid.
$1.49 Foreigner albums, hells yeah.

OH, AND COCO COMES HOME TOMORROW.
Montevallo isn't ready for this.

Best retort ever: 'That's funny cause on the boat they told us this was America, bitch.'

Excuse me while I kiss this guy.

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 16:02:51 GMT

"If the leeches don't get us, the coyotes will."
- That lake is a bitch.

I wouldn't suggest walking across the dam, and into the thorns, through the leech amusement park, across decaying logs, broken glass & sharp rocks, into more thorns, and a slew of algae-covered mud... because all there is at the end is an old big wheel and Andy's shoes.

Unless you like to eat the goo out of honeysuckle blossoms, and then it's totally worth it.

I love that boy like a cold sore.

Oh, and cops don't like it when you drive with your feet out the window.

LJ Interests meme results

bigotry:
If the south woulda won, we woulda had it made.
chan marshall:
She sure does got a purty mouth.
communist daughters:
Cubes, duh.
firearms:
Good for shooting knights in Sean Gallagher's living room.
honesty:
It's kind of important.
lomography:
It's cool.
omg-it's-fergie:
Omg! It's Fergie! Does Weight Watcher's know about this?
seattle south:
The notorious muffaletta is something you should invest in one day.
stillwater:
Fever Dog; I hear you howl, but I don't listen anymore.
willie nelson:
I hope he don't die. I want to braid his hair before he does, it's kind of a goal I set for myself.

Plus, I want to hear "Cowboys are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other" live with a bunch of cowboys around and then be like "Willie Nelson just called you a fag!!"

Enter your LJ user name, and 10 interests will be selected from your interest list.

grasa bola cielo.

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 12:14:08 GMT

According to 48 Hours, Marilyn Monroe was a Communist spy and a threat to national security. If there were any reason for unquestionable adoration, that would be it.

Too bad I'm a Socialist.

A Socialist who loves Angelena. Very Much.
And Vicks Vapor sticks. Even More.

I just found a pre-natal in my bed. Weird.

Remember when you were 15 and responsibility was one of those silly little words that had no meaning, like rent & addiction, because you had never known them & you were pretty sure older serious people just threw them around to make themselves feel like they were worth a shit, and you could just drive around all night with your emo pothead friends and listen to 'fast car', and identify with it, in a happy way, cause it's a nice little ditty and you really did feel like you could be someone, and now years later you listen to 'fast car' and you're like wow, how demeaning, how pathetic, that a song about fucked-up families and financial stress and homeless shelters could actually make your naive stupid little self have faith in the abilities you thought you possessed, and instead of pleasant nostalgia you're only happy because you realize how fucking jaded you were at 15, but still aren't happy that you've grown and you realize people don't just throw words around, and you'll always hope for better, and the only words that people can truly throw around are contentment & such synonyms, becuase even you do grow to be truly happy, you'll still have something lurking around that guilts you and haunts you, and even if you do live to be 80 in your boardwalk condo with that guy you really believed in, he's going to die and all you'll have are your kitten knick-knacks and a social security check, & I hate that I grew up and 'fast car' is no longer a crusing kind of jam.

Best run-on sentence ever.
I hate how all my ephipanies are substance-related.

I think I have Peter Pan Syndrome.

I also think it's a bad sign that every time my father calls I immediately think something wrong has happened. When really, he just wants to ask me how I'm holding up. And whether or not his grandchildren will be Capitalist war-mongerers. & I say, "No, they'll be aborted before they have a chance to be rebellious teenage Republicans."

I could sleep, but that's what coffins are for.

If you're a one-hit wonder from the 70s, you need to not wear mesh undershirts decades later. I'm talking to you, KC of KC & the Sunshine Band. Thanks-a-latte.

Gas is ri-goddamn-diculous.

Tracy Chapman is a buzz-killer.

In Conclusion, Hilary Clinton is where boners go to die.

anal bum cover(s).

Tue, 18 Apr 2006 05:50:32 GMT

Everyone else was doing it.
PS: My mommy loves me.

Dean James Lipton is a god among men.

Fri, 14 Apr 2006 09:17:35 GMT

Updates:

800 dollars later, I'm not going to jail, but Justice Council and/or Community Service seem to be a definite of the near future.
Richard Andrew Benson does not blame me, is okay with recent events, and wishes only to provide Mr. or Ms. Snitch with a one hell of a flogging. Yes, flogging. For the record, I concur with all violent sentiments.
Wild Irish Rose and I have entered a dangerous love/hate relationship.
Despite all the rumors of local harrassment on college females, I still walk home from the bar at 3 am.
Crazy British men try to buy me beer at midnight sushi, cause it wouldn't be midnight sushi if some crackhead/gangster/foreigner wasn't walking around Five Points and making everyone uncomfortable.

Oh, and if my mother didn't hate me for Ashley's hospital bills after I broke her vertebrae, totalling all those cars, breaking two windows, coming home drunk/high/otherwise fucked, having ridiculous parties while she was out of town, forsaking her religion, almost not graduating, causing constant drama with my older brother, doing it on the trampoline while she was inside asleep, and breaking her nose... she really hates me now.

Plus, Josh wants to come visit.
I said no.

!!

Fri, 07 Apr 2006 06:37:56 GMT

Coco's in jail.

If indeed this warrant deal goes through, in the case of my arrest, the first number to call is:

#205-382-6908. That is a Mr. Andy Benson. He will know what to do.

Secondly, #256-479-4336 or #256-722-6263, being my mother.
You may have to swoon her a bit, and then cuss her the fuck out.

I had better be out of jail in time for the next rerun of Golden Girls.
And I expect liquor. Lots of it.

Thanks, chums!

viva fidel.

Wed, 05 Apr 2006 19:31:18 GMT

That bitch has my respect.

Wed, 05 Apr 2006 05:00:58 GMT

It's really amazing how I can be sitting around, eating flan, working on my book, etc. & I get four messages from guys who are pretty much enamored with me... and I'm just like, eh.

I know I bitched, but now there's a flood every day, and I'd really rather not be bothered.

Whatever happened to all those guys who just wanted to be friends?

Seriously. Where'd they go?

Wed, 29 Mar 2006 14:25:29 GMT

I saw Motley Crue last night and all I have to show for it is a fucking subway napkin with some biker's blood on it.

& some bruises.

& a hangover.

I'd say this is ... uh, best spring break ever. [*comic coming soon].

Oh yeah, and THE CURSE IS FUCKING BROKEN, BITCHES.
More on that later?

God Bless Tommy Lee.

photo-post.

Fri, 17 Mar 2006 17:45:45 GMT

Black Betty had a child.

Bar. Bar again. March Madness Party. Bar.

"WHO DOESN'T LIKE A TACO?"
"Uh...Chad?"

I almost gave the golds a really good idea for next year.

What am I drinking?

Our beer tree in Orr Park.

Now... the asbestos factory.

I'm sad to see it go.

Sun, 12 Mar 2006 15:58:47 GMT

Never say never.
Cause what you say the at the begininng of the the night as a joke, transfers into great opportunity after an open bar.
You'd think I would have learned.

I just want a shower, and a milkshake. With kahlua in it.
And if anybody wants to bring me a smoke, so be it.