Abi's journals

"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society."

I'm busy adding all the Cable & Deadpool comics to my Half.com wishlist, trying to figure out which part of foot itches exactly, and craving soup-in-a-can. Also, Bobby bought me an awesome book called DOPE. I obsessed over it at the bookstore, but because I'm currently having to choose daily between eating and buying cigarettes due to being out of work while sick, I let it go. Sooo there it is waiting for me in the car when I get picked up from work. Huzzah clearance books, they're the reason I'll never need a fucking cat for company.

Seriously, soup-in-a-can. John, this is sorta like my desire for cheese fries at midnight that time. I have the eating patterns of bein knocked up.

We should put Godsgirls on American Gladiators. Who would win? Make THAT a fuckin poll contest, Farhaad.

I bring you one of the ugliest critters ever to crawl from the jurassic soup of DNA: The Pangolin.


I assume its an early draft of an armadillo, but I'm no scientist. Eva?

Also, since I don't have a camera right now, I might just start scanning my dirty underwear and posting it around the site. Like an easter egg hunt. A filthy, unlaundered easter egg hunt using other's bandwidth.

Lets all join hands and recite the constitution, shall we?

Whats in my head? Mostly this.

I really need to un-tan these lines from my ass. In the meantime, heres my panties.

Wow, that set went up? Its always the one I forget about, but I like it. The tattooed man in one of the opening pictures was testing the scaffolding to make sure it didn't collapse when I stood on it. He was also a good foot taller than me and probably double my weight, so I felt pretty darn safe. Except for the rickety ladder...



"Sponge Bob Square Pants will air in China,so now factory workers know what the hell they are making."

At last I've rejoined the world of the healthy, after three weeks of vomitting, sweating, and dizzily sitting in the hospital. At one point I thought about taking all the perscription bottles and doing one of those crystal glass music numbers, where you fill them with water and ring around the rim. Is there a word for that? Crystal symphony is what I've been calling it.

But anyway, I'm finally going back to work, finally going out since apparently my spleen isn't in danger of bursting anymore, at least not as much, and finally my laptop is fixed and I have the internet again. I've missed it.

My little brother bought me an Iron Man pez dispenser to make me feel better. How sweet is that? If he weren't 6'4", I'd pinch his cheeks and hug him.

Also, I tried to bite off a guy's thumb last night who wouldn't give up on his desire to 'make out with a lesbian'. Thats what you get for trying to caress my face, douchefag. I hope he chokes on a curling iron.

Welcome back, me.

I'm sick, very sick. Been to the hospital twice in the last week and a half, haven't been to work in three. Needless to say the internet isn't on my priorities list. I'll see you later.

Like walking through a mucky swamp. Why do I bother?

I hope I'm not the only one feelin this way.

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Abikins, happy birthday to me...