I had a pretty lousy time. I only went because Dad wanted me to drive. We got up there (Crowder's Mountain, David's Castle) and I sat between some rocks to block the wind and I read my magazines. It began to rain a bit while they were setting up to go rock climbing and so they packed it all up. And then it stopped. So they unpacked and went rock climbing. I stayed and pulled out Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughter House Five" and eventually fell asleep. It rained on me, but I was below a tree so didn't get to wet. They finished climbing, came back, woke me up, packed up, and we left. We stopped by Krystal, but I've always been of the firm opinion that Krystal and White Castle SUCK! Because who want's teeny burgers that are mostly bread? Not I, said the mouse. I got a "Corn Pup". A miniature corn dog. Decent, but MINIATURE! So, we left home at 11:30 and got home at 9:30. What a productive day! Not.
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I want to be European, but I'll gladly settle for Torontonian. They have a certain something about them. However, my sister and I have decided to settle for "looking European". And that greatly satisfies us.
My new thing is scarves. I just got a new one. It's Liz Clayborne. Creamy white with bead work on the ends. It was only $8 at Marshalls. Next stop: Good Will, Slavation Army. I bet they have a ton off great scarves. I don't really care about the maker, just that its... different. It's my new thing. As opposed to those knit coat things that I used to wear. I'll still wear those, but scarves, more often.
I am woman
I am chic
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Guess who just got a silver sports car ? I would say that would have to be.... ME! Yessiree, I have a '89, AT, Silver Probe. Yessir, and it's better than my sister's Ford Tempo, and it's better than my brother's non-existent car, and it's better than my daddy's car. Yessir, I'd say I did quite well. Oh, and I got it all for $1500. BEAT THAT BUSTA! Oh yea...
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You want... Poetry? How about demented poetry? The scary Stuff? About the crazed poet? Or the suicidal girl?
She sees a gun, a vision in her head,
The metal gleams, Fills her head with shattered thoughts
She cocks the gun, and aims around
She points it at him
He cowers. She cries. She closes her eyes.
He falls into a crimson stain.
She looks at her hands.
Black powder. She rubs and rubs
It won't go away. No soap or scrubing will remove it.
And All that's left, is a vision
Well? I wrote that on the spot. I swear. The black powder and rubbing and scrubbing won't remove the stain. Its a reference to MacBeth. The girl in the poem is showing her guilt. I thought about the vision of her with a gun when I woke up. I was listening to *Poe*. She inspires me sometimes. Her music is creepy... Her's another example of a poem I thought up after falling asleep to *Poe*. It's not as creepy...
Hey Pretty
Don’t you even want to enter in the fight?
My Darling
...