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© 2004-2008 Linda Escaip
"I may be grumpy, but I like you."
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The Suns and Moons of the Grumpiest Girl in the Room.
Welcome to my journal, passionflower.
Big Woman, You Crush Me With Your Boob 12-August-2005 2:18 p.m.
For your unbridled excitement, I present "Excerpts from the Diary Beside My Bed."
I can still say with conviction that I would rather have sex than attend a wedding. Perhaps I will use that excuse the next time I'm invited to one. "Sorry, I'll be having sex that day. All day. Save me some cake? And enjoy the relish dish!"
You will never find me sniffing those disgusting canned air fresheners. Or any air fresheners. If you do, you'll know it's not me.
I have a solution for all the food manufacturers selling garbage for a huge profit: Instead of scraping old motor oil off parking lots and adding it to the despicable processed foods you sell, you could collect oil from teenage kids' faces. Lure them with cheap pizza and generic soda, thereby producing more oil. At least we would be eating something we knew our bodies could successfully process, because who hasn't licked a teenage face and survived without a clogged artery? No one, that's who.
I wonder where the word hunch originated. I shall look it up. Well, the dictionary didn't provide the origin of that word and I suspect the reason is that they had no idea. They (the dictionary people) should really hire word detectives. I'd like to apply for the job.
I long to drive without a destination, all by myself, without telling anyone where I am. I watch through these windows as people drive by. I envy them. I imagine their sense of freedom is greater than my own, but I don't know if that's true. I have felt imprisoned by pain all these years. My life has changed. Pain is lavishly heavy. And loud. Pain sounds like a whirling, hectic mass of pure chaos. It hurts your head. So, I watch out these windows. Do people realize what they have?
My hair is bugging me. Three in the morning may not be the best time to write this. Thankfully it's 3:07, so we're in luck.
Don't stay in a place where happiness eludes you. A spider bit my breast when I was sleeping and I may never sleep in that bed again. Or I may never speak to that spider again. You would think that after countless years of catching spiders in jars and transporting them back outside they'd be a bit grateful and keep their fangs to themselves.
I keep wondering why everyone is more important than I am.
I am not the world's most easy-going person, pal. But I don't make up stories to save myself and I don't play games.
Things get so twisted with time. I don't feel I can even recall a sentence from my youth. One whole sentence, unadulterated. Unchanged. Give me oneI want one of those sentences. One that doesn't hurt.
Why are so many people afraid to dig down to anything? It's a shame really, because what's the point of hanging around the surface, endlessly repeating the nice and sterile details of the top layer? "Let's play hide-and-never-seek." Nice game for about five minutes, until you realize you're in hell.
I'm just sitting here waiting for something to happen so I'll have something to write. I guess I could start making up recipes or complaining about traffic. An ant just bit my boob. My fucking foot is asleep. Here's the thing: I'd like to be a great writer. I want to write stories that show people who they are and who they'd like to be. Or not be. I wonder, are they still making these Bic pens? They didn't have them at Staples.
It's funny how if you talk on the phone to a particular person often, you get into a way of saying goodbye. Someone has to say it first. I say it first with certain people, every time I am hanging up with them. I wonder how that's decided? And why am I saying it first with some people and not with others? I don't know. Maybe it's because I have fabulous tits.
People who try to prove they don't need others usually need them the most.
Does a slug feel slow or even sluggish? No. The slug feels fine.
When I'm out in the world watching people, they appear bored and stoic, like they're watching a movie they've seen hundreds of times and they'd still rather be bowling. I wonder if I appear that way. I wonder if anyone has ever taken the time to notice.
I imagine men as the dictators who decide who's worthy and who's useless. It makes no sense. I think I made this up a long time ago and it just stuck for some reason. Just some old idea that is neither productive nor accurate. It's simply ridiculous. I'll do the judging, dicks. Most men don't seem to have much taste anyway. They're stupefied by a generous display of skin, tight pants, low-cut shirts; I'm not sure they see much beyond that. It's laughable. And I'm going to go ahead and let that decide my worth.
Celebrities don't really have cellulite. I know you think you've seen Drew Barrymore's leg dimples on a late night talk show, but she was wearing cellulite stickers. I'm sorry to say that cellulite stickers are not available to the general public because you are simply not good enough.
I spent my childhood trying to make people happy. I wanted to protect others. Now I want to protect myself from others.
What the fuck am I supposed to do here with my 25-word vocabulary? Be creative? I smell a weird wood smell. Whatever. I want to watch more Carrie Fisher interviews because that woman is a wit sandwich. The dog across the street needs some attention, you selfish cocks. Everything is going to be alright. It is?
People are looking for the weirdest stuff. And now a few things that brought people to this site, that I couldn't in good conscience keep to myself.
her sexy denture story probably outshines my sexy carburetor story.
what you are lacking when you are grumpy Sex and dark chocolate.
sorry my boobs are in your face Not a problem, doll.
aunt p*rn aunt sexy aunt smooch aunt boobs aunt knickers Five lovely sisters, all entertaining as hell.
boobs that are not my mom's Because there'll be times you tire of mom's rack.
Sonicare ants These are ants without gingivitis, for sure.
list of things that are satanic Anne Murray, Betty White, clutch purses, licorice, nipples, shrubbery.
it's my boob Remember the Diana Ross song "It's My Turn"? This was the original title.
mom and dads gone sexy One mom and several dads went completely sexy after chasing down their daughters who participated in the "Girls Gone Wild" series of videos for geniuses.
"she is really a man" Son of a bitch. Can't a girl have a humungous wang in peace?
list of things you cannot live without Writing, my piano, love, the night sky, dark chocolate, autumn, lip balm.
why do i sometimes get a tingle feeling in my hands and figures This is what happens when you hit the eggnog too early in the year.
fart without being noticed Always bring a baby elephant with you, and an air purifier strapped to your bum.
nice ladies in knickers Before you gaze upon some dames in their underwear, it's best to make sure they have good social etiquette.
big woman, you crush me with your boob, said the ant with the healthiest gums in town.
Quote From My World
"I cut myself shaving."
"Ow. Where?"
"My forehead."
Well, I'm off to put the twink back in twinkle. Thanks for reading.
Linda
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