Silence, you.

As bad as I am, I am consoled by the fact that I am truly worse than I seem.

Grace

Freakin' Cold

Its sooo cold in my house right now. I can see my breath...ok not really but my fingers are really cold.

Also i'm putting my kitty on a diet. Hes too fat. Ok so hes not tooo fat hes perfectly plump but i don't want him to get unhealthy fat so i'm restricting how many times a day i feed him. He doesn't like it at all and hes bugging me at this very momment but will resist! Hes just so cute!

END

-kat

Kill The Sky

It's times like these that I either feel like making an extended and extremely witty list, swearing out a lot of people for cathartic purposes, or puking up my guts.

Probably going to be the last one, as the poem...whatever...thing I was working on just dissolved itself into a couple dozen scattered and pointless lines. While other blogger poets may try to get away with that, not me, nossir, I have a reputation for straight-up well-done mediocre poetry and I'm going to keep it like that.

My immune system's been haywire. I'm starting to think whoever put together my system wasn't just utterly insane, but hell-bent on making strange things happen to me all my life.

I require soup. Of course, I'm not much of a forward thinker, so I already ate all the soup in the house earlier this week. Apparently there's garlic bread and tortilla chips and some sandwich rudiments around. Plus a bucket of KFC that Moses might have partaken of.

Jeez louise, Moses, save some chicken for the rest of us.

Ahh, I've just said jeez louise. The power of decongestants rides within me once more! Soon I'll have one of those explosive-decompression nosebleeds and lie on my floor alternating between laughing and thinking incredibly fatalistic thoughts. Fun.

I was going to formulate a list of things that I wouldn't miss about Lansing and then the things I would. I really need to get out of this place. If only because my stagnant social situation resembles a Mexican soap opera on crack meets a Britcom. Which is to say everyone is pompous, absurd, the women are noisy and pointlessly melodramatic, and I'm never quite sure what the hell is going on but I'm likely to hear someone yelling at me in Spanish. All right, that last part isn't true, but I'd really appreciate it, because it would be something new. Same old patterns for as far as I can see.

Chicago. Land of the rising sun. Wait, that's Japan. Well damn, I'll take Chicago to Japan. That'll make me right. No problem for a demi-god. You know, I've always thought INXS was far better than The Cure, and I think that makes me a heretic. I'm a sly old heretic. Can you be a heretic and a demi-god? I hope so. I don't need your Jesus. I need feeHEEeelings. I hate that song. Right now I have that disturbing NIN version of "In Da Club" on and I'm wondering what sort've drugs a person had to do to come up with that.

Because I want some. Though, I'm starting to feel a bit scattered. Not like, you know, Legos, I mean, I'm just feeling a bit off. As opposed to on. Not like a kill-switch though. I'm fairly certain I don't have one of those. I am not a machine! Just an organic pain collector dissolved into improperly placed cellular structures. That's a very unpleasant machine right there. Now I want a torture machine. Just something I don't even have to work with, just something I could shove some mouthy self-righteous person into and then leave, and come back to gobbets. And let me tell you, gobbets has a finality you can't achieve with machete, a day off, and a work ethic.

I'm thinking I have to throw in something about robots raping cowboys but I wasn't reading Burroughs today, I was reading Glamorama and trying to figure out if Bret Easton Ellis was sucking at the whole writing thing or not. I think he is, but I think he's making a good show of it, so I can forgive. Though Less Than Zero was just a failure. Or maybe I'm not west coast enough for that sort've thing. Damm it all. I need to spend less time in bookstores. At least around here. Although truth be told I haven't been spending much time doing anything these days. Writing and not using half of it, sitting around at home not even drinking heavily, just doing...nothing.
Makes me think about high school. Makes me wonder just what it is I have been doing this whole time. I wasn't in any clubs, or anything extracurricular, or really, doing anything. zbut really, I do have friends. Just like when asked if I had any friends, sure, I'd think about the people I hung out with the most, but really in the end there was a distinct lack of human compassion and warmth and actual connections being made. I blame m'self though so it's all good. The blank spots. What the did I do. Well I've got a fucking future now but it's hard not to be fatalistic. But what the hell. Where ...I lack for a legacy. Too busy being extraordinary to enjoy the ordinary things and work that into a Joe Walsh joke. But it's there in spirit. I think blogger and my keyboard conspire to exaggerate all my angst and make me come off like even more of a drama nut self-obsessed kid than I really am. Well that's the internet for you.

Thanks, internet.

I'm thirsty. There's blood on my shirt.

I think I found a violin.

- the infamous

Yar

So yes....

Last night Bob, Jbob, Big Ryan and Melba came and ate food and hung out. Also we toasted to Australia day! WOOT! anywho then we talked trash on luke fooorrreeevveeerr! Not really but yar.

So that was what i did.

Another story for you and all your igonrance.

SO! There was once a sexy beast dectective called Agent Sexybeast and singlehandly she found all the cules and busted some old granny for being the leader of the mob group called S.T.A.I.N. Then she celebrated by eating Boston Cream pie and listened to all 80s lunch on 102.1 MUAHAHAHAHAA! it was wonderful.

ah well

So my wonderful plans of excitment were dashed upon the rocks of life. Damn them all.

So instead of thinking up something smart i'm going to make up a story off the top of my gorgeous head.

There once was a man named Hoork, this man Hoork had a terrible lisp. It made him overly selfconcious about everything he did. The end.

Wasn't that a fantastic story!? Shouldn't i win the pulitzer price?!!! OF COURSE I SHOULD YOU MISERABLE MAGGOT!! BOW DOWN TO MY SUPERIOR WISDOM AND BEAUTY!
-kat

YO YO YO!

ok...so i live a boring life. But whatever. So i love my shorten schedlue i've gotten in some serious reading, almost finsihed with a six book serious that i started right before christmas break. i'm on the last book which i started today and i'm already half done.

Also i have time to actually go and spend the money i make! I have to go and pick two books from waldens today, spend more money at claries, then of course go to baristas for yummies then i might have taco bell for lunch. Yep sounds like a day well spent to me! MUAHAHAHA!!
-kat

"So, Grace, What Are You Going To Do With The Rest Of Your Life?"

Back and rambling;

Sorry for the lag in posting, I've been drowning myself in apathy, and angst. I feel like a real writer now, except for the fact I haven't been doing any actual writing. It's been ages since I've written a short story. Ages. I remember last time I did a short story, the woolly mammoth was rather impressed and decided not to squash me. Then I stabbed him and used him to make a fur coat. Fun. It was him or me, and I had a harpoon gun. I call it the Cullmaster. When I'm alone, I pet it like a cat and tell it stories. But in the long run, I just haven't written any short stories. I've started a few, but in the end I just write clever ways to kill all the characters involving umbrellas, unicorn jihads, and the occasional appearance of large star ships crashing into small east coast liberal towns and liberating the people from the mortal coil in a firestorm of quantum-based probability engines. And one guy survives, to drink all the booze and root beer while participating in Za Zen sitting meditation.

Muahaha.

I'm immortal!

Ahem.

No finished poetry either. All I have are lines that don't properly dance and follow and lead each other around. My typical fumbling erotographomania is in a serious downswing. So now I have a few documents full of clumsy lines, which makes it sound like I have jagged cocaine occupying my computer. Well, **** you, cocaine, my computer is fairly drug-free, unless you count my sweet sweet word drugs. In which case those drug-sniffing dogs are going to stop on by and chew on my *butt* for awhile. To prevent this, I will stop keeping steak in my back pockets.

Don't look at me like that. You never know when you might need some steak. I've had many a steak-related emergency, and having a steak on hand at all times is rather useful. It doesn't make for much of a weapon, but slapping a vegetarian with a steak always results in amusing screams and blood splatters. And god knows, if it screams and splatters blood all over the place,

Why haven't I been writing much lately? I've got no inspiration, BUT I HAVE mastered throwing small children into wood chippers and laughing myself sick.

Interesting events have moved into the realm of nonexistent. I think it's high time I found a job. But what to do? I want something interesting that actually challenges me, but, I've got nothing. What could I do? Mad scientist? I've got the hair for that. Although, I nearly failed all of my science classes back in high school, mostly due to academic apathy, a high level of intolerance for taking notes, and a tendency to throw around beakers full of volatile substances. Also, according to some bizarre and rather stupid law, making a meth lab in the back of class does not earn you extra credit. Neither does trying to sell it to my fellow students. Apparently capitalism never flourished properly in the North Science Room 2A.

Well **** you, Lansing, I can be an adventuresome capitalist if I want. Then, a warlord. Yeah, I said it. Drugs, and explosions. Apparently my science class was like a failed rock career. All we needed was half a dozen trash-talking aliens from some obscure nebula and we could have had a sitcom.

Taking off from that warlord idea, I should run for mayor of Lansing. Of course, I'd have to actually get involved in politics, which means I would go utterly batshit insane, but that just increases my chances of winning. My platform would advocate constant violent interrogation of local hippies, eugenics, unparalleled drug abuse by public officials, and replacing all the local statues with Pong arcade machines. My entire administration would be based around be unproductive and driving people out of this city, until KCCC was forced to shut down and replaced with a weapons factory, in which case we would hold hunts on the Commons for the homeless to test the weapons on. Tell me you can't envision a bunch of drugged-up, suit-wearing lawyers with machetes and sub machine guns and nets tear-assing down the street after a screaming hobo and his trail of urine and booze. That would rock. After we've annihilated the homeless and the hippie problem, it's time we moved on to simple enslavement of the local populace. But not physical enslavement! Oh no, that's too good for the Lansing residents... I'd go with full mental enslavement, which would require hiring espies, and I tend to shoot those *things*, but I think I can hold off my trigger-happy impulses for long enough to have a bunch of hyped-up psychics destroy the minds of everyone in this county. Not that it'd take much work, reading the local paper. If anyone else wants in on this sweet bargain of destroying a town, feel free to give me a ring.

Other people probably won't want to go as far as me, but that's why they're stuck being small time, and I'm the Infamous.

Grace

ok

So today i have no school...woot...but i'm home doing nothing. And i'm not gonna leave cause sean busted his ankle so i'm gonna stay home and take care of him cause he doesn't need to be walkin' on it.

Another note...PEOPLE NEED TO LEARN TO ANSWER THEIR PHONES!!!! those people know who they are. Its vastly annoying to be desperatly trying to reach someone and them just sit there and let there phone ring and ring untill the answering machine comes on and i have to leave a message which does me NO GOOD!!!!!!! people have phones to answer them to be in contact with them. And i absloutely hate it when people say on there answering machines that hi this is (insert name) i can't answer my phone right now so leave me a message...or whatever but the phone rang of the damned hook!!! OF COURSE YOU CAN ANSWER IT!!! its not that complicated!! if you don't want anyone calling you just turn the stupid thing off!! gahhh......angerangerangerwrathwrathwrath.....

-kat

Work and stuff

Been working more and stuff need el mula for skool. Ugh life outside of my folks house doesn't look cheap. Oh well.

So i left the other post by Grace up for so long because it is absoulutely hysterical. So...yar read it.

So high skool is doing ok, i have three classes as of the other day. So my counsler calls early in the morning to tell me that i need another credit...soi have to come in for another class. But its Sci Fi so its fun and interesting a lot of reading needs to be done for this class so i have to catch up seeing as they are ahead of me because i've gone a couple of weeks already with out being in that class. yeah...i wasn't happy.

Tomarrow gonna go to OMalleys!! Yeah...Its a neat little irish pub in weston so i'll hang out watch the bands drink soda or water and have good conversation with my dad and a few others. So it should be really fun or at least relaxing.

So yeah thats my life right now...yes it is rather pathetic but whatever.

-kat

The Sort Of Things I Get Up To While Mildly Intoxicated (on cold medicine) And Armed With My Ego

Apparently I'm marrying a exceedingly attractive and witty Russian man from the City and we're going to start an Institute of assassins, and generally superior good-looking people. Our progeny will rule the world. Then they will fight me and Ren's spawn to death. I will rent out a coliseum for this event.

Frankly, I'm going to have to do a lot of procreating, and the sooner we start, the sooner I can declare myself Empress and finally have an excuse for being so pompous.

Of course, this means I'll have to build a palace. And if there's any place to build a palace, it's in the City. So I think I'll have my fiendish army take over Manhattan and convert that entire part of the city into one vast interconnected palace structure. We'll have a mixture of old Chinese dynasty roofs, Russian towers, those strange English castles, and basically hybrid architecture. But we'll hire people who know what they're doing so it looks cool.

Maybe some Tudor thrown in, because I'm a New England sorta gal.

Also, skyscrapers. I want to own a skyscraper and spend most of my days on the roof playing the cello and watching the helicopters. I don't play the cello and I despise heights but I figure if I have to be some sort of Empress-Assassin-God then I'm going to need a disguise to put people off their guard. It's either that or throwing harpsichords off said roof onto random passerby, which I might just do anyways.Though from that height it's disorienting and hard to aim.

From here, I will establish my Empire. I am unsure where to start, but New York makes for a great staging point for anyone to start a political ascendancy. We'll be a dictatorship soon enough, and really, I'd rather be the woman in charge than the woman sitting on her butt staring at the television saying "To hell with me running I knew I shoulda taken up the Russian on his offer!". This is why you always take up Russians on their offers. They are an especially crafty folk. They're not Italians by any means, but you can still have a rough time of it playing them in chess. Only in a waffle house, though. They get temperamental if they lose at chess in any place but a waffle house. They'll stab you any place else. But Russians are amazing at chess.

And waffles are awesome.

But anyways. After making myself the New York Empress with my court a Minister Of State, I'll make Kat the Court Jester, and I'll have appointed a whole bunch of other people I know into various positions of power because I figure that's a good way to stay amused and be an American -- put your friends into office with you so you're never bored. It works for other administrations. Plus we could all get drunk and start fights with peasants.

Am I getting ahead of myself? I think I am. After the New York Empire takes over the rest of the states, I shall declare myself the Great North American God Empress, because I like declaring stuff, and then I'll bring the entire hemisphere into a new age of cyberpunk sword fights, gun fights, eugenics by way of harpoon guns, feudal democracy, and contradictory politics for my own sick amusement. Soon there will be Great Houses, political factions, guilds, and eventually the Landsraad, and then I can die happy, and OD'd on Dune references. And melange, because I'd want to live a long time and I'd chew that stuff like it was Pez.

He who controls the Pez, controls the universe!

It'll be great.

Grace

'i think I understand why watches don't work around you, Grace'

OK, I was told to edit this post so I am... For those of you who haven't yet read it I'm not changing the message, only most of the offensive language. I'm leaving some of it, to make a point. Don't like it? Sorry? Nay, I'm not sorry. Feel what I'm writing and stop worrying about my choice of words. God never told me I couldn't curse, only not to use his name in vain.

Take that, stick it in your hippy peace pipe, and smoke it.

I wish I could draw again, really.

But it's not the haunting clarity right now, because I have been thinking a bit clearer, having exculpated my self-destruction for awhile at least, so now I can think about it in that good old fashioned worrisome disconnected fashion. I suppose that's why the objectivists still read me despite our intense differences; I have a clarity of self-awareness they admire. Of course, unlike them, I chose to do nothing about it, but, meh, fatalism blah blah...you've been here before, I assume.

Back, back and forth and forth.

Introspection is built on this endless spiral for me. It's not a circle -- I never re-arrive at conclusions, though I'd be the first to admit I get stuck in a nice rut and lose my point a lot but for now, I've got that lovely curtain of calm existential dread and I mean to use it to articulate the hell out of this bitch.

Self-destruction! Oh, it's fun, both the real life version and the True Hollywood stories version, except Hollywood likes to leave out the desperate loneliness in favor of the melodramatic narcissism. I like to combine both, because it makes me feel interesting and theatrical.

Hurray for sarcasm. I'm extraordinary.

But, I'm dying. It's that simple. I mean, we're all dead or dying, you morons, but this is different. Or not, but the only people I could ask are either dead or too far beyond the point in their lives when they went through this to be of any real help. Maybe it's just losing my grip and something else is pushing that along. Momentum. Too easy to fall into that momentum.

It's easy to define it as me just self destructive and write me off because I lack the sense of self-gratified accomplishment, which is true, for all my ego and pompous sardonicism, I never feel like I've actually done anything. Probably because if you take a nice look back, I don't do anything and I never have. I lied and I talked and I wrote and I bitched a lot, and if you catch me when my creative equilibrium is perfect I'll unwrap a soliloquy driven by miserable solitude, and the endless baleful spirit of creativity. I can talk a lot of crap before I die; I never run out of ideas, I just run out of ways to express them that sound different. Not that we don't all fall into that little lull. I just make sweeping gestures with mine. And I'm a total hypocrite, but it was that or be sanctimonious, and I really do try to avoid that. I can't avoid being pretentious, so I've made an art form of that.

Losing track of the point again, because my head hurts like all unholy *stuff* and it's probably the only reason I'm thinking straight instead of frightening my colleagues (for I really lack for friends) and people with that empty look in my eyes, though it's interesting to see people's reaction. I wonder what they're reacting too -- the look in my eye that's me having tossed myself into a pit of self-pity that I endlessly reiterate to those who ask? Or just the perpetually haggardness of a girl who's finding the edge and running along it as fast as she can? Intimidation through the obvious look of the inevitable?

When I think of this, I smile. It's the most terrifying thing I can do.

I realize how out of tune with the rest of the world I am now. I don't establish much rapport (RAPPORT, this weeks vocab word, take that, Bach) anymore and what I do have is weakened constantly by either inattentiveness or moments of startling apathy. Not that I don't long for any sort of real tangible physical comfort, but just that presence, but I'm acutely aware that it's my own actions that have led to this distance.

Doesn't make it any less lonely, of course.

I have also noted I am irritated by these people who say the same things over to the same people, to tell the same ones that they love them that they hate them that they miss them and that they know them, and I loathe reading of that more than they would ever know. Why on earth would that irritate me?

Jealousy?

No shit.

I still don't know what to do, but I know what I'm not doing, and by *goodness*, that is a start. Now to see if when the dust settles if I'm face-down in the dirt with the or if I've walked away from it all.

In conclusion;

No, you don't get a good night kiss.

Grace

The big bad world of phones

So yar i have now got a wicked cool celly phone!! yay for me!! it even has pics on it and stuff!!! yay. So that is all

Angie left *cries* we all miss her. And i'm extremely bored because i have naught to do since i only have 2 classes and don't have a second job yet. oh the life of me.
-kat

Skool

school starts tomarrow. poo on a stick i really don't wanna go but i've only got two classes anyways so it doesn't really matter.
so yar....not feelin' so hot. my throat is hurting me.

So i went to bob's game along with the grif boys+david, angie, luke, jbob and my dad. It was fun, although they lost...*sobs*

Christmas break was fun although i burnt myself on the oven making pies. Its healing slowly and it looks really gross.

So thats all in the life and times of ME
-kat

GRACE IS BACK

muahahahaha!