On second thoughts…

Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah.nah nah nah nah nah nah nah.Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah.Nah.Nah.Nah.Nah.

-The Birdie song.

(Which, by the way,I want played at my funeral.)

"So just think of the shit that makes you happy then"

"What,getting it?"

"Sure,I guess…."

"Dude,where the fuck am I  going to get me a Hello Kitty monster truck with a drivers side flame thrower?…Hmmm?..you still there???….Yeah,I thought so…I gotta go."

-Conversation earlier today.

Mired as ever in practicality, I sit, (stood up no less), on another endless Friday night banging away, spewing it all out into to the eather at my cluttered citadel of crap.And I looked so damn cute tonight as well Bugger it.Big mouthed punk princess with fairy queen hair and a rock fired heart.

Pft!

 I think that I need to find a virgin to sacrifice to Elvis which,I believe, is going to be impossible in LA. To find a virgin I mean. Oh no! Wait! here I am right here! Verging on the fucking ridiculous and feeling sorry for myself and it sucks.

At least I enjoyed "Slayer day"

But then again everyday is Slayer day to me.

Ahhhhh!!!! LA, you have some explaining to do…Woody says that people here don’t know what they want. I adore Woody .He dresses in Technicolor,talks too fast and rolls like a force of nature .Gently buzzed on frozen margaritas at my kitchen table he continues "Girl,you have to tell them what they want!" But ever mindful of rejection I keep my trap shut.

Still training like a fiend.Doing so much abdominal work twisting like a a pretzel I often feel like I am going to crap calligraphy .I ache constantly and feel guilty if I don’t. Fucking Catholic school education.

Leizel is home tommrow.She sounds like a very happy fish and I am glad..That also means that I go back to training  twice a day which is also cool.I am almost happy enough with my corpse to start shooting again.Good times indeed.

Writing and playing more than I have in years and my top register and falsetto are so strong due to all the running that the dogs loose their shit in spades when I hit a high C.Its the little things that make one smile.

You know,I thought that I had something to say tonight but I dont.I have a headache and a lingering mist of pain hovering behind my ribs.

As any of the Goodfellas alumni would say with great conviction and throwaway style that would make a lesser man bow his head and sigh…

"Fuggedaboutit"

M

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