women who plan on loving me

i am not a good choice

i am mean and dumb, im fat around the belly, and lazy in the soul.
my heart is black, my opinions are fixed, my head is hard.
i will lie in my blog, i will exaggerate on my site,
i will create photo essays that will make you cry on varied levels.

if you leave me for another, that other better beat me at everything
because i do see it as a competition, because to me everything is a competition
and because i have issues with my chicago cubs, it is my job to win at everything else

because im a blogger everything will end up here in some twisted way that will make me look like the victim/hero/loveable one, and most others will be painted with an unfair and miserable brush.

i will live alone and be bitter. eventually i will burn in hell. my grave will be vandalized and used as a commode for the homeless and the wise.

but while i am alive i will do evil to the sweetest folks, i will betray your trust, and i will mock your choices.

im not much to look at, im boring to be around, im not well read, im unedjumacated where it matters, and you will be left unsatisfied on every level of our romance.

i will not cook, i will not clean, i will not offer to help.

i can turn anything into a mess at the drop of a hat, i will find wrong in anything, i will be quick to use the bible against you as well as rock lyrics.

i will compare you to women in my past, to your face, i will argue in stupid circles, i will bring up the worst examples to try to prove my point.

ultimately all i want to do is sit on my couch and hold your hand and wait for you to please me by ordering chinese in high heels and a cowboy hat.

my secret dream is to have a top hat and a monocle and a kegorator and for you to perfect the lost art of making deep dish pizza because oh yes i am also so very cheap.

and yet still better than that mess thats on top of you currently.

one of my alltime favorite bloggers, Zulieka,

paints a dark picture of her life as a mother and a quasi-wife.

quasi because i dont think she married her man, although i could be wrong, and her blog could be like mine: quasi true.

either way, she’s not showing the most sunniest of dispositions right now:

When Freddy comes back from the graveyard shift, we are still in bed. We hide under the covers, and Lita calls out for him to find us. He smells like machines and oil, metallic and burnt. He drinks a beer and washes last night’s dishes. Then I slowly figure out who I am and what I am doing here, and reward myself with a piece of bitter chocolate from the cupboard while Lita gobbles up her cereal.

When I come home from work, Lita and Freddy are in bed asleep. She is still wearing her day clothes, and has not brushed her teeth or washed her face. I carry her to her own room and she cries a bit before plugging her mouth with her thumb. Then I am alone, and I don’t know what to do.

it’s weird, i dont recall her so down about nebraska when she lived there, in fact when she moved to mass with the family i thought she’d love it. but that doesnt seem to be the case. either way, you should all bookmark and subscribe to her brilliant blog Zulieka Unstrung. it’s not always for the whole family, but it is consistently well-written – like a finely played piano.

the only thing that i dont like about Z’s blog is that you can’t leave comments to tell her how rad she is. our pal Keira-Anne who also runs one of my favorite blogs, is quite different. there you can leave comments in fact today Keira is soliciting questions that she will answer in a podcast, i believe, so after you read Zulieka, go over to Keira’s and ask her everything that youve always wanted to know.

there is a girl i like who doesnt like me back

instead she likes another. which, i know, is impossible. i could tell you endless tales about him, but instead heres a few video clips that compare he and i. please enjoy.

him on letterman

me on letterman

van halen with him

van halen with me

me ghost riding my whip

him ghost riding his whip

what he hears when he watches obama

him buying you a magazine

sex with him

one touch from my pinkie under the blanket while we watch tv at yr parents house

to be continued

ashley read this piece

about drew barrymore online last night and wanted to know if it was gonna be in the paper today. i said yes. she said are you sure. i said yes, knowing that she knows that “are you sure” is a question i hate being asked because if i wasnt sure id say “i think so, but im not sure”

so yes ashley not only was the story about drew in the paper, it was the cover of calendar and it has a huge pic of the star