Back from Utah

It was one Hell of an adventure.

Perverts.

Here's another article from the journal of DUH: Men are fucking perverts.

When I opened thisblog I decided to check on my stats to see how quickly hits on my page dropped. Well, my hits haven't really dropped much at all. I have over 60,000 hits on this thing due to pervy men looking up "Cuban Ass" on Google. It's evident that I've talked specifically about my Cuban ass on here and it's even more evident that men are obsessed with Cuban asses. Or at least 60,000-ish men are. 5,000 are from South America. I might just start every new post with a close up of my ass and talk about my Cuban ass until Google starts paying me to post pictures of my ass. GOOGLE, DO YOU HEAR ME?!?? I WANT SOME DAMN MONEY. Cuban ass. Cuban ass. Cuban ass. Google me. Cuban ass. Cuban ass. Cuban ass. Page impressions. Cuban ass. Keywords. Cuban Ass.

This sorta reminds me of my conversation a few hours ago with my good friend in DC that I accidentally ass typed to her "aal lah" or something along those lines to her and she sent me a "WHAT?" followed by some more question marks as I didnt respond since I was busying fucky or something. I came back with and replied ALLAH and then told her I was busy with my extremist ways and terrorizing. Then we talked about how Big Brother and the NSA are probably monitoring me RIGHT NOW so I figured I might take it a step further and say ALLAH ALLAH ALLAH TERROR TERROR TERROR and see if I start getting hits from Afghanistan. I'll probably get some creeper commenting on here pissed off that I mentioned Allah's name in vain. Whatever. I don't care about your Allah.

Ok, I'm done fucking with the government today. NSA, I'll be back to TERRORIZE you tomorrow.

Beer shits

Why the Hell am I up at 3:45 in the morning? Oh, that's right, because my stomach woke me up to this wrenching pain that made me want to gut myself. What a fucking horrible thing to wake up to. Stomach pain really is the shits. Worse, I have a headache too. What a real cunt.

So earlier today I got LE DRONK (see drunk picture above) at my bestfriend's house for the 4th and swam around the pool for hours channeling my inner fish. I swam around a bunch while drunk to 1) challenge myself not to drown and 2) burn off booze calories. I hadn't eaten anything all day and for the first time in months I decided to stuff myself with wheat beer and chips and apparently an entire habanero pepper in less than 3 bites care of Daddy Mason who likes to put holes inside my intestines. Basically all the things in life I typically stay away from (with the exception of habaneros) I decided to overload on today. What a fucking terrible mistake. I think by beer 3 and half a bag of chips I was borderline vomits just from the carb overload. I really can't do that to myself anymore. If I have to be the creepy person who brings her own salad and green tea to the party I guess I'm just going to have to do that. Had I behaved myself I wouldn't be here suffering with a double whammy headache and buttache at nearly 4 in the morning with work looming around the corner. My dogs, and by dogs I mean Doberman and boyfriend, are soundly asleep while I am researching how to disembowel myself without dying. Lucky them, because if they were awake I'd make them suffer with me. That's the fascist way to do things, right?

Whatever, so long as I don't end up having that leaky butt syndrome where you can't hold your shits I guess I'll be ok. I actually know a couple of people with leaky butt syndrome. One shat her pants while driving somewhere important and the other can't go anywhere without needing to shat his pants every few minutes. I actually know someone else who has leaky vagina syndrome who fucking pees every other 5 minutes... And basically when she has to pee and there's no toilet she says FUCK YOU WORLD, YOU ARE MY TOILET and I've seen her piss on a West Hollywood dyke bar's dance floor, on a street corner, next to a club entrance all while in front of a ton of valet people, in someone's bushes on Laurel Canyon and she cut off a crazy midget in a wheel chair at a hot dog stand's outdoor restroom and flooded it. Needless to say this was all in one night. There were numerous other pee pee stops, but none that were insanely memorable, just annoying.

ya no te veo, ya no te quiero.

Fail. Pure blog fail.

Sometimes I get a stick up my ass to blog about something but then I open this fucking thing and the words get lost. It's not even so much of a lack of things to write about, but rather the inability to put emotions or thoughts into words. Sometimes I can't even put a straight thought together in my own head. Maybe that's just a brain fail.

I opened this blog without even looking at my previous blogs. I don't know where I left off, when I blogged last or if I have posted anything of value since my last blog. I'll assume probably not since nothing has happened in who knows how long that's really post worthy. Other than me being like HEY I'M NOT FATSO ANYMORE everything else is the same. Not that it even matters because no one reads this anymore. I actually prefer that. I'd like this blog being public without it being constantly scrutinized. Believe it or not I've slowed down from the Facebook world as well. Yes, I'm still on it all the time but my updates are radically slowing down. Ideally I'd like to remove myself from the entire internet world, but that probably won't happen. The best I can do is lurk and blog anonymously, but even that will take time. I'm like a really bad addict trying to rehabilitate myself. I can't cold turkey without relapsing. I just need to make a conscious effort to slow... slow... slow down until it's dwindled to nearly nil. What a fucked up goal in life.

Waking up this morning I felt different. Maybe my own Berlin was torn down in my sleeps. I'm not sure. Less conflict and more clarity. But I woke up and the way I once processed my thoughts and feelings switched to reverse and I find myself back to square one. Sorta like my hard drive was wiped clean, although I'm positive my brain is still viral. Last time I found myself feeling like this, bad things happened. Really bad things. Cruel and unusual punishment to the mind fucking degree that were probably unwarranted, but I don't care. I guess once my brain shuts off, it shuts off. The switch is broken and cannot be replaced. All you can do is tear it down and rebuild. The problem is trying to build something out of a pile of shit --- Worse, REBUILDING something out of a used pile of shit. It's just not worth it. Doesn't that sound absolutely terrible? It does to me.

Enough of my ramble. I'm not even making sense to myself anymore.

I saw Transformers 3. I'm not sure whether I liked it because it was actually a good story or because they got rid of that cunt Megan Fox so therefore I liked it. Maybe it was a combination of the two. I am stupidly attached to that Bumble Bee transformer and every time I think it's going to get killed I get really sad. Sorry if you haven't seen it but GOOD NEWS! He doesn't die. I hope I only partially ruined it for you.

Oh, and I'm going to Utah next week or something. Whatever.

Ehhh, ok, I'll stay.

No, I didn't get implants. What I did get was a really fucking expensive push-up bra that makes my tits look big (for me) and that makes me happy.
I guess bras like these can delay me getting implants. The good thing about having small tits is that they're perky. Really perky. 13 year old perky. All my friends with big tits are getting old and so are their tits. Old tits just aren't attractive unless you like granny porn, and that's just weird. Anyway, enough about my small tits.

So I posted that I was going to get rid of this blog and then I got bipolar again and decided to keep this blog. I've decided to have a happy medium and do both. When I'm hormonal and want to kill the world, I'll take my rantings over there. When I don't give a fuck and feel like writing stupid shit because I'm bored and can't sleep, I'll post here. Cool? Cool.

On a semi-related note, I find it really fucking creepy when anonymous readers go back months, often times a year or two or three and then comment on an old ass post. I get that my blog is public and I get that by me posting public shit that you have the right to say whatever you want, but that doesn't make it any less creepy. HEY CREEPIES, IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE CREEPY, AT LEAST GIVE UP YOUR NAME! I HATE RESPONDING BACK TO ANONYMOUS PEOPLE! Just thought I'd throw that out there. Creeps.

Since I have too much to update, I'll just post a few notes about my life.

First and foremost, I HAVE BEEN WITH MY BOYFRIEND FOR A YEAR. WTF? Where did the year go? As it turns out, I still don't hate him and I still love looking at him naked. Big plus.

Secondly, I made my goal weight for my initial weight loss. I did it by eating a lot, semi-working out, having a lot of sex, giving up alcohol and tripling my coffee intake. With that said, I plan on dropping another 10 pounds and then I'll be thinner than I was in high school. It's awesome to be at a point where all my new jeans are too big for me. When I went to the east coast in November, I took my smallest pair of jeans that I barely fit in and I forced myself to wear them even if I had a muffin top so I wouldn't over-eat all over the east coast. Now I can take them straight out of the dryer and I'm swimming in them. Damn fucking right.

Third, I had family come visit me from Hungary I didn't know I had. Apparently when my dad lived in Hungary he stayed with them and whatever. I thought all my family from Hungary was Jewish and died in WW2 except for the few that came here. Apparently this family is Catholic and didn't get gassed or burned or a combo of the two. I'm not sorry if that seems insensitive. My grandma survived Auschwitz, so I don't give a fuck. Anyway, so this family I thought was going to be all shitty like my grandma but as it turns out, they're cool people. Probably because they're Catholic and didn't grow up with that I ALMOST GOT GASSED OR BURNED guilt looming over them all the time. So my dad and my cousin Miki who's just a few years older than I am have been e-mailing each other in that horrific language they call Magyar and are planning on sending me to Budapest sometime in the Fall. THANKS FAMILY. I don't know what the Hell I'm going to do in Budapest without my dad around. I can only say a few words in Hungarian, most of them are food related. At least I'll know how to order. My dad taught me how to say "I just shit my pants" in Hungarian but that's not going to help me at all, at least I hope I don't have that problem throughout Budapest. I don't understand how my dad speaks that fucking terrible sounding language fluently and never taught me. NEVER. I don't see how all these years I've learned Spanish, I was in a private French-only speaking school for a couple of years and kept up with private lessons, then they put me in a Russian speaking only Catholic Saturday school for a short amount of time but NEVER bothered to teach me Hungarian? DEAR PARENTS, YOU GUYS ARE STUPID. REALLY STUPID. NOW I NEED HUNGARIAN AND ITS YOUR FAULT I DON'T KNOW IT.

At least if I go to Budapest I have an automatic visit to my family in Madrid because if I'm going to fly across the pond I'm NOT going to just fly over Spain and go SORRY FAMILY, YOU ARE NOT WORTH THE $200 FLIGHT FROM BUDAPEST TO SEE. Hell no. I love my family and Madrid too much to ever go to Europe without making at least a few day stop. YAY, A LANGUAGE I CAN SPEAK!

I guess that's it. Goodnight, creeps. Especially you, Anna. Amanda, you too.

tomorrow is my birthday.

and if this weekend is a precursor to what tomorrow will be like, i might as well just stay in bed all day. this one takes the cake for worst birthday ever. what a terrible weekend this has been. actually, what a terrible month this has been.

Something's really fucking fishy.

Besides the fact that I might blow up my fucking piece of shit Cadillac, some shit just isn't adding up and I'm really pissed off about it. The problem herein is that I am vengeful. Oh well.