Okay, this blogger/lj thing is confusing me yet again. Pfft. Am going to cross post everything from now on, and mean it too, for once.

So I'm off to Genting...:: hugs ::

Be back Sunday. Whee!!

And...went to see dentist. Apparently tooth growing is very near nerves and also I have a majorly small jaw so they will have to remove part of said jaw in order to take out the tooth. Am currently in state of horror, imagining a lifetime of nerve related pain if he messes up. Oi. Okay...and now I'm done. And gone. Whee!!

OW. OW. OW.

This is the sound I'm making right now.

Hurt her! Hurt her! Hurt her!

That is the sound my wisdom tooth is making right now.

OWW!!!

I need to go pull it out, but I'm going away tomorrow, so I obviously can't. Aiiyee!! My gums are all swollen.

Okay. Self pity rant over.

One more time.

OWWW!!

I'm going to Genting this weekend. So don't want to go. I swear if i could get out of it i would. Not that I'll be doing much, mostly I'll bet I'll be in the room watching football. Sigh. But. Six hour bus ride? Fuck me. The only thing good is the weather, cool..although my ears always pop on the way up the mountain and I already have ear problems. Grr..

I have so many stories written down on paper it's almost sad? Because I scribble? So if i scribble and it's done it ain't never gonna get typed out. Like ever. And of course they're all brilliant because everything I write in a fit of inspiration is brilliant until I actually type it out and go...ehh? What the hell did i write? Ouch, but that sucked.

So yes. Wonderful, kick-ass writing...all missing. Heh.

My wounds are bleeding. Am torn between dispassion and mild horror. Hmm...I can't stop. I might not care.

So apparently it's Father's Day. To my father, wherever he is :

Fuck you and I hope you choke on it.

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real

Trent. He's red now. Because.

This cheered me up to no end :

Outraging Arab and immigration groups, the U.S. government will require as many as 100,000 visitors a year -- most of them Middle Eastern men -- to be fingerprinted, photographed and registered in an effort to monitor possible terrorists, officials said on Wednesday.

I also rather enjoyed this little article here.

The amount of disjoint between television and reality was shocking. The "new" Northern Alliance government was no better than the Taliban; with the exception of the U.S.-appointed former oil-company hacks in charge, they were Talibs. Women still wore their burqas, stonings continued at the soccer stadium and the bodies of bombing victims piled up by the thousands. Not only was the War on Terror failing to catch terrorists, it was creating a new generation of Afghans whose logical response to losing their friends and parents and siblings and spouses and children would be to hate America.

So places I won't be going to on vacation any time soon.

My html is weird. Yes it is. If it steals my blob i'm going to be very angry.

Look! I have a useless blob! She's pink! Ain't she purty? Pet her, please.

From Alicia

Blogger ate two of my comments. The fuck? They're just. Gone. Fuck.

Couldn't resist. I downloaded three Eminem songs and burned them to a CD. I'm going to buy the CD, I swear. I just wanted to listen to some of the songs first. Annnnd...I got that song with him singing about Dre and him fucking with their hats off. Ahaha. He is so gay. It's not as good as 'I'll show you where the ocean is', that remains my number one Em/Dre love confession. Because. Oceans. It's so romantic. Awwww...Meanwhile, I said I'd put out for good hooker fic. Now I'm willing to put out for good Em/Dre. Seriously.

Meanwhile...poor France. Yes, I like them now. Fucking hell. It wasn't faaair! Well, football is rarely fair, but still. It wasn't faair. Annnd...I lost ten bucks because I bet that they'd at least score one goal. One. Is that too much? Sigh. Who knew? And no, I would have won if either side had scored, and I was still rooting for France. It's not about that. I don't like teams that play dirty. Poor poor Trezeguet. Sweet baby boy, he tried his best. Broke my heart. *sob* And no Zidane again. God. Why, oh why?

Hello blogger. Nothing. Just hello blogger. Went to gym today and almost vomited because my trainer is mean and makes me do squats and stuff and I'm all...nooo...and she's all...sure you can. Excuse me while I go drag my poor abused body...um, not far away from the computer, but i'm slumped here, just so you know.

So it's The World Cup. I prolly won't be around...'cept to um...update on cup things. Because. It's the fucking world cup. Wheee...!!!

Meanwhile...I'm all trenty and graaay....Grrraay would be the color if i had a heaart...heh.

It's all about the spark isn't it? I felt that spark with Eminem. Oh how I love him. Just. When I see a picture I go...guhhh. Instant dying and melting. The Linkin Park boys took a little while longer. I finished my first fic mainly because I just wanted to write something different, something that wasn't Eminem, and when I saw that cute little MTV Cribs thing I was...okay, I can slash them. But then...afterwards. The spark. That oh oh oh feeling that every picture, every comment they make brings to you. Hours pondering their cuteness, their talents, their dorkiness. Picking apart every aspect of them, buying magazines that even mention their name. Yes. Okay. Sigh. I'm an obsessed fangirl. I love my parkboys. I love him especially.

Braddles. Because he's sofuckingtiny. Look at him. He's skin and bones practically. Just this dork with a guitar and he's so so cool because. Just because.

Wake up, after sleeping for five hours straight and missing the games. Fuck. Sigh.

Am also pornless. She whose name I will not mention owes me some. Although not her fault, but still yes. Handjobs. Yes.