Soup Times!

It's soup weather...

Cream of Chicken Soup
Everyone loves cream of chicken soup, it's a fall favorite. Of course it is important to remember that cream of chicken is actually a misnomer, because as we all know to make authentic cream of chicken soup you need 2 pounds of freshly ground seagull. "What if I only have frozen seagull", you ask? Well frozen seagull, which can be easily found in the frozen foods section of your local grocery store, may be used as an acceptable substitute.  However, for a full bodied taste and a richer soup, I highly recommend procuring your own seagull and seagull grinder.  Now the first step in obtaining your seagull is to head to the beach. If you don't live by the water, try the parking lot at Kohl's, or a discount home improvement store. Seagulls are notoriously hard to catch. They're distrustful of others even their own kind, they are born thieves, and they're cruelty is unmatched. They've been know to steal a man's wallet, wait an hour, return the wallet with it's full monetary contents and credit cards, however they've flung any pictures of his children far out into the sea. The only surefire and easy way to catch a seagull is to soothe them by reading passages from Charles Dickens "Oliver Twist" aloud until they get close enough for you to throw a pillowcase or a plastic bag over their head.
*Chef's tip- try reading from the middle of "Oliver Twist". Seagulls really respond to the rampant thievery, domestic violence, and child endangerment portion of this classic Dickens tale.
After that it's quite easy to pluck, and grind your seagull. Don't forget to salt and pepper to taste, and then slowly add to your vegetable broth. Add generous helpings of fresh cream and lasagna noodles, and you've got yourself a great rainy day soup. Serve with a maritime place mat.
*Chef's tip- leave in the seagull beaks when grinding, I think you'll agree the flavor can't be matched.

Luna Bar Bisque- a soup for women
I can't tell you how much I enjoy a bowl of luna bar bisque. It's simple to make and it's a natural diuretic. The recipe is very easy, all you need is 24 luna bars, 3 bottles of any low calorie sports drink, and some tarragon. Blend until smooth and garnish with some shaved white chocolate. It's important to remember that this a summer soup, so always serve chilled with some watermelon slices.
*Chef's tip- please don't replace ingredients in this soup. Cliff bars will not be an appropriate replacement for luna bars, if you replace cliff bars for luna bars, that's cliff chowder, which is an altogether muskier and less inspirational soup that cannot, I repeat cannot be used to celebrate the new moon.

Pineapple Surprise Soup
Ok, so I'm late, really really late. I don't know how this could have happened I'm always so careful. Well not always, there was that time a couple weeks ago. Oh shit, what was I thinking? What was his name again, Tom? Dom? What the hell kind of name is Dom. Oh god, I didn't sleep with a guy named Dom did I? God like Dom DeLuise, that can't be good. Great now I can't get the image of a sweaty, naked Dom DeLuise out of my mind. This is terrible, this is all my fault. I have to stop going to parties where they serve sangria. That's the problem, god you think it's harmless like fruit punch or something, and then 5 drinks later you're naked with a man possibly named after Dom DeLuise. Any drink with that much fruit floating around in it shouldn't have consequences. But see that's my problem, the fruit. This is just like the raspberry vodka incident all over again. God what was his name, Troy? Lloyd.? Like Lloyd Bridges, oh that's gross. Why do I do this, why do I think of the grossest possible version of the guy I might have slept with. It's because I don't have any confidence, that's what it is. I've never had any self confidence. I suppose if I did I wouldn't be writing free lance soup recipes. God my life is bleak. John! John, that was name. John, not Dom. Ok, that's a little better. John, like John Goodman. Oh god, naked John Goodman. I have to stop doing this. Oh- the surprise in pineapple surprise soup is cilantro.
*Chef's tip- ease up on the sangria.

Aliens or Starbabies from another galaxy, and Dan Aykroyd.

 Starbabies!

Everyone knows that aliens exist. All you have to do is just look up into the nighttime sky (not during the day or you will hurt your eyes, unless you have sunglasses in which case I guess you can, that's kind of a gray area I guess- look I'm not an opthamologist) and you will see proof that aliens exist.  The stars are only there as a road map for them to come visit us whenever they like! It's all preplanned, all of it. Our very existence was already thought out and approved by alien beings. That time you had diarrhea in the car in 6th grade on the way back from that Chinese buffet place that you can't remember the name of- that's right it was all part of the alien's plan for our race, so stop being secretly upset about it every time you see an egg roll. Aliens! No one knows more about aliens than Dan Aykroyd. It's true! I know he looks like a potato latke, and he wears sweater vests, and he sells bbq sauce out by the Chicago convention center (he had all of his blood replaced with bbq sauce in 1997), but he also knows the secrets of the universe. That movie Coneheads was actually a serious detailed account of an alien family that had infiltrated our universe, and Ghostbusters is a really dark cautionary tale about the occult. Why should you know less than Dan Aykroyd? Shouldn't you too know the secrets of the universe? Don't be like Jane Curtain, believe in these secrets.

Secret # 1
Aliens built the pyramids. Yeah it's true.  There was a time when Aliens were really into triangles, it was their thing.  One of them put on a v-neck sweater, and it caught on from there. It spread like wildfire. So, at the height of their triangle phase, they came to Earth and decided to tell us all about it. Well we weren't that impressed, we were really into cats at the time and fishing with reeds. Well, when the aliens saw that we weren't impressed by triangle mania, they decided to place a bunch of huge triangles around in the hopes that it would really take off. It didn't, we put dead people in them, and started worshiping birds.
Aliens- 0, humans - 1. 

Secret # 2
All aliens look like this.  Look, I know it's common for us to envision aliens in all sorts of crazy get ups. You know, they have tentacles, or scales, or their exoskeleton is covered in a fine layer of Vaseline. Nope, sorry aliens only look like this. They all look like Ralph Fiennes without the lights on. They have thin lips and amazing cheekbones. They take a lot of pride in their looks, which is why they are insufferable to be around. Any time spent with them usually devolves into a one way conversation about their exfoliation techniques. They're dicks, but they're dicks with amazing skin.
Aliens- 1, humans -0.

Secret # 3
Aliens are really easy to capture. If the triangle thing didn't tip you off, aliens aren't that great at reading humans. They have a lot of convoluted ideas about how we're gentle savages and we just need to be taught some basic interstellar manners and then we will be able to handle the rest of the universe. With that in mind, when they do encounter us, they tend to get too close, or hold out their hands to us like they're feeding a pony a sugar cube. It doesn't work, we almost always lash out and attack, and that poor alien who just wanted to get a good picture with a human winds up in a lab deep within the bowels of the painted desert. Once they're in the lab, it's vivisection time. We will slice up any alien we find. We don't even need to at this point, we figured out the secrets of those cheekbones years ago, but we do it because we're dicks too.
Aliens- 0, humans -1.

Selected Interviews

Indian Summer

Pearl Langly

In our Continuing series "Hey Old Timer", we at KPPL asked local seniors to share their stories.  Today we asked octogenarian Pearl Langly to share her story about that rare occurrence when the summer extends far into the fall.  It's a beautiful weather anomaly called Indian Summer.  We asked Pearl about her most memorable Indian Summer

Pearl Langly- "My most memorable Indian Summer.  Well let me just say that I don't care for Indian Summers as a rule. I'm a fall fanatic. I love the foliage, I love the weather, and I love hot apple cider.  So it would seem that I might not find Indian Summers particularly memorable, or at the very least I would find my memories of them to be unpleasant. Truth be told my favorite summer was the year that it rained for most of August and the temperatures never went above 60 degrees. Oh that was phenomenal.  I know what you're thinking, that sounds like the perfect recipe for cabin fever, well I suppose it would have been had I not began a correspondence with a nice young boy in Romania that July.  He was a wonderful pen pal, although he died 2 years later in a tragic thresher accident on his family's farm.  Despite the fact that his death did tinge those letters with a terrible sense of melancholy, it was a beneficial experience none the less to make a new friend. Now, as for Indian Summers I do have a memorable one.  When I was 16 years old, I gained employment as a camp counselor at Camp Crystal Lake. It was a lovely old camp along the lake, it's been closed for decades now, but when it was open it was a wonderful place to spend your summers. Now, I was in charge of the 4 to 5 year olds and our group was called the Snails.  You see each group of children was housed together and given an animal name.  Now on this particular day my little Snails had just settled down for their 3p.m. nap.  At the time I was dating a handsome Italian boy name Albert Stenetti. Albert was the archery assistant at the camp, which is surprising as you would not expect Italians to have a predilection for archery.  He assured me that his mother, who was Scotch- Irish had instilled his love of the bow and arrow.  This makes sense given that Robin Hood was supposedly of the same origin and he was a fabulous archer. Anyway, on that day, I decided to sneak out and meet Albert in the art supply room of our Craft Cabin and canoodle.  We were necking when suddenly we heard a terrible scream. Well we straightened our clothes and hair and we ran to see what all the commotion was.  Albert ran ahead as I stopped to check on my Snails.  Well as you can imagine they were woken by the scream and they were quite upset.  I had to calm them down with chocolate milk from the mess hall, as I believe chocolate milk calms all children down.  However, the sugar in chocolate milk also stirs them up so it's really a double edged sword.  Anyway, once the Snails were calm, I ran ahead to our main meeting hall called the Eagle's Den to see what all the fuss was about.  Well, when I got there I found Debby Glickman who was in charge of the Buffaloes, ages 6-7. Well she had just returned from their 2:30 p.m. nature hike when they arrived at the lake just in time to see the Voorhees boy, a Woodchuck ages11- 12, sink to the bottom of the lake like a stone.  Poor Debby was so upset, she was such a lovely girl, unlike her sister Maureen who I personally didn't care for as I found her to be a bit snotty. Coincidentally Maureen was the leader of the Woodchucks, and we all went searching for Maureen and the Woodchucks to tell her about the Voorhees boy.  Well we found Maureen out behind the Timber Teepee, or the woodworking shed, with a boy who's name I can't quite remember.  Well once Maureen realized what had happened, she was broken up.  Maureen then told us that as it was an overcast day, and she had left the Woodchucks alone in their cabin with a small transistor radio and a stack of comic books.  Poor Maureen thought that would be more than enough to keep those boys busy, but the Voorhees boy snuck out and made a b-line right for the lake.  Well, as I said I didn't like Maureen, but you couldn't help but feel bad for her after all she only snuck out for a minute, and everyone knew that the Voorhees boy was a terrible swimmer and the lake was the last place any of us would've expected him to go.  Well, just as we were about to fish the poor boy out, Mrs. Voorhees, who happened to work in the mess hall, came running around the corner to see what had happened.  Well, once she learned that her son had drowned, she was very upset.  She screamed and cried, and finally we had to take her to the Medicine Hut to giver her an aspirin and a cold compress for her head.  Well, that didn't work in the slightest and she demanded to see Maureen and hear the full story.  Once she heard about all of the canoodling she was even more upset.  She called Maureen all sorts of names I won't repeat, and Mr. Gelson who ran the camp at the time, had to ask her to please watch her language.  Well she wouldn't and she called us all "filthy canoodlers" and she swore her vengeance.  Well I had had enough. I snapped "Look Monica (that was her Christian name) why didn't you teach your son to swim in the first place." That may have been cruel to say, but you do have to question the reasoning of a woman who enrolls her son for a summer camp that is lake adjacent and doesn't teach her son basic swimming safety.  Well, she flew into a rage demanding all sorts of crazy "blood vengeances" and she stormed off.  All in all she was an angry woman in a cable knit sweater. Well, I never heard what became of her, as the following summer I began working at the local library as a librarian's aide.  Also I should say that I never heard what became of Albert Stenetti as dating Italian boys had become passe by the following summer."

Back To School

Helen Shapiro

Next up we asked local septuagenarian Helen Shapiro about her experience in returning to college in her early 40's. Helen shares this story with us.

Helen Shapiro- "Well it all started when I lived in the green house. My late husband Ronald and I purchased that house in the summer of 1968 with a small loan from my aunt Louise who later died from an accidental head injury. Anyway, it was our dream home.  It was a lovely Victorian with a rose trellis and a cherry tree in the front yard.  Our neighbors to the left were the Martins, and the house to the right went through multiple owners until a quiet man named Mr. Krueger moved in and he stayed there for many years.  Well, like I said Mr. Krueger was a quiet man who mainly kept to himself.  The neighbors didn't care for him, but Ronald and I didn't mind. He kept his yard clean, and he didn't leave trash all over the curb. Well, as I said, I wouldn't say that Mr. Krueger was a friendly man, but one Thanksgiving I invited him over.  He declined, but I still sent Ronald over with a plate after dinner, because I didn't see a Mrs.Krueger anywhere and everyone needs a nice hot meal.  Well, I wouldn't say that he became our new friend, but he did seem to warm to us as the following Hanukkah he dropped by with a lovely assortment of hard candies.  Well, I went right to work making him a hand knitted sweater. Oh he loved that sweater he would wear it all the time.  After that he would come over occasionally, and he and Ronald would tinker in the garage with his sailboat.  Well unfortunately Ronald died very suddenly.  Ronald loved his red meat and he hated to exercise, he collapsed from a heart attack and left me a widow at the age of 40.  Well Mr. Krueger didn't send me a sympathy card, but he did come by and drag my garbage to the curb, tinker with the wiring, that sort of thing. Once, he ripped his sweater on a rusty nail and I fixed him a peanut butter sandwich while he waited for me to repair the hole.  Well we didn't talk much while he ate, but when he left he did thank me for the sandwich and the sweater repair.  Like I said the neighbors didn't care for Mr. Krueger, but I will take good manners over good conversation any day.  We went on like that for some time, he would help me with the house and I would fix him a plate of food, and then suddenly he passed away.  Well, I got out my best suit and I made sure to go to his funeral. I hate to say it, but I was the only person there.  I always told Ronald that our neighbors were snobs, and he would say to me "well you can pick your dream home, but not your dream neighborhood." I have to agree with my late husband on that.  Well, actually it's funny that at this point I mention dreams.  Not three months after Mr. Krueger's death I had the most vivid dream about him.  We were sitting in my kitchen eating peanut butter sandwiches when he turned to me and said "Helen, did you remember to put in the storm windows?"  Well I shot straight up in bed.  The dream was so vivid, and what's more it was so odd as he always called me Mrs. Shapiro and never Helen.  Well sure enough I woke up and checked the windows, and I had not had the storm windows put in. Well 2 days later I had them fixed, and don't you know it was just in time for our first winter storm of that year. Well dream or not Mr. Krueger saved me 30% in my heating bills that winter. I was so empowered by fixing the storm windows that I decided right then and there to stop rambling about in my old house and take some night classes.  So I did, and I became a court stenographer and that's how I met my second husband the judge.  Eventually I sold the green house, and moved down to Florida with my sister's youngest son David.  I should say that I had one last dream involving Mr. Krueger.  We were sitting in the kitchen eating peanut butter sandwiches just as before, but this time he said to me "Helen, your gutters need cleaning."  Well say what you want, but Mr. Krueger was a wonderful neighbor."

Deadly Women

Susan T. Beachly the Philadelphia Prostitute Pants Prankster & Murderess
Susan T. Beachly's story is one of sadness and of tomfoolery gone wrong.  Susan worked the docks and naval yard as a prostitute to make ends meet.  Although she found her work profitable, she also found it to be really, really boring.  To liven up her night time activities, Susan devised a plan in which she would drug her would be clients, remove their pants, and leave them passed out hopefully to be found and teased by a crowd of early morning dock workers and sailors.  It should be said that Susan was no career criminal, at no point in time during the alleged druggings and pants removals, did it occur to Susan to rob her helpless johns.  Instead she lost an estimated 50 - 100 dollars a night.  Susan simply became a thrill prankster and pants removal artist, content to live out her days taking  the pants off of drugged and lonely men.  However, fate was not kind to Susan, and one night her joke would go to far.  A young man awoke at dawn to find his pants removed by the newly monikered "Philadelphia prostitute pants prankster". He was so embarrassed that he scrambled to hide before his pants less state would be revealed to the morning dock workers.  However, in his mad dash to hide, he tripped and fell cracking his skull against a freighter, and falling into the harbor stone dead.  When Susan was revealed to be the prostitute in question, she was caught red handed with the dead man's pants in her possession.  As it was 1943 and Susan was woman who delighted in drugging and mildly harassing the men of Philadelphia, she was sentenced to death by electrocution.  Her final words were reported as being " it was a pretty good gag". 

Paula Glickman the Deadly Black Widow Ice Queen Honeymoon Hatchet Murderess
Paula Glickman has never been caught.  This is the only remaining photo of her modeling a wedding veil for a local television news program in an ironic front to side mug shot style.  Paula Glickman is known to have killed at least 3 husbands in Canada, Niagara Falls, and Buffalo, New York.  By all accounts, Paula lures elderly men into relationships through a series of impressive and strongly worded letters about team sports to the editors of local newspapers.  If the elderly men responded favorably to her letters in the following week's opinion page, Paula's trap of sex and greed was sprung.  To be fair to Paula Glickman, the title Deadly Black Widow Ice Queen Honeymoon Hatchet Murderess is a misnomer.  Paula has never been described by anyone she has come in contact with as being an "ice queen".  Many who have met Paula would describe her as a friendly woman with a strong love of insurance pay outs, and team sports. She is believed to be on the run with her lover Troy, a weight lifting enthusiast, somewhere in Costa Rica.

Terry Louise Fitzgibbons the Baltimore Corn Holder Killer
Terry Louise had only been married a year when she killed her husband Floyd.  Terry Louise and Floyd had very few marital problems, so it was a surprise to her friends and family when she murdered Floyd over a single comment regarding a Thursday night dinner.  Apparently Floyd had arrived home later than usual which allowed for his diner to cool. As he helped himself to a plate he commented to Terry Louise that his corn on the cob had "gone cold".  This statement would unknowingly be his undoing. Terry Louise sprang from her chair and shouted " that's not the only thing that's gone cold around here".  She then proceeded to stab her husband 36 times with a pair of novelty corn holders shaped like 2 pugs in sailor suits which in their original packaging had been advertised as "2 salty dogs". During her trial Terry Louise's lawyer testified that although she loved her husband Floyd, Terry Louise had a strong love of puns and action films, and she could not resist any opportunity to deliver such an ultimate final line.  Terry Louise was convicted of manslaughter and spent the next 15 years in prison realizing that better lines had been available all along, such as "I'm putting you on a DIEt, or "maybe you can warm your corn...in hell".

Sharon A. Little the Satanic Goat Queen Killer
Sharon A. Little had no intention of becoming a satanic goat queen.  She was simply dating a man named Claude Weathers, a noted occult bookstore owner and flutist in a local psychedelic band called "Sisters of the Paisley Moon". Sharon had never been able to resist a musician, and she soon found herself entangled in a messy relationship fueled by love, hatred, desire, red wine, and black turtleneck sweaters.  One evening Claude suggested to Sharon that perhaps at the Sisters next show Sharon could don a black cape and read an excerpt from one of Claude's books on modern witchcraft. He felt that the theatrics would surely increase slow tickets sales and boost the bands status in the small but competitive local psychedelic music scene. Sharon agreed and suggested to Claude that they increase the dramatics by performing a fake "sacrifice" on stage.  They both agreed and devised a plan involving fake blood, a prop knife, and an impromptu "sacrifice" that was sure to impress the crowd.  Claude even agreed to be the "offering" and suggested that Sharon "slay" him during the song "Spanish Moon Beam" (one of the few Sisters songs without an extended flute solo).  The plan was innocent enough, but unfortunately for Sharon it all went wrong.  In an effort to combat her stage fright, Sharon proceeded to drink copious amounts of red wine during the bands first 3 songs.  When it was finally her time to join the band on stage she made a fatal error and grabbed a real knife that someone had left backstage along with a nice cheese plate and tiny crackers.  Sharon performed the "sacrifice" in full and unfortunately for Claude she slammed the business end of a serrated cheese knife right into his jugular vein.  In addition to killing Claude, Sharon made one other fatal error.  In her drunken stupor, Sharon believed the words of the song to be "satanic goat queen" and not "Spanish moon beam" as the song title had suggested.  Witnesses of the brutal slaying would tell police that the sight of a drunken woman in a black cape screaming "satanic goat queen", during a rousing rendition of "Spanish moon beam" would haunt them in their dreams.  Her lawyers tried in vain to explain all of these mishaps to a jury, but she would be convicted as Satan's assassin, and would forever be known as the "satanic goat queen".

Darlene A. Nordstrom, the Minnesota Coat Murderess
Darlene A. Nordstrom had a very mundane life, a loving husband, 3 kids, and a part time job as a receptionist for the town's only opthamologist.  She was a simple woman with simple tastes who did have one prized possession, a Navajo tapestry coat which she had purchased on a scenic tour of America's southwest.  Although it was basically a reproduction sold in any gift shop from Arizona to Oklahoma, Darlene felt like a true Navajo warrior when she wore that coat.  She was so entranced by Native American culture after her visit, that she decorated her entire home with woven blankets and dream catchers. She even devoted a large part of her sun porch to a small but exemplary indoor cacti garden.  She was the envy of every other Minnesota housewife in a 15 mile radius, except of course for Agnes FInch, a woman who after spending 3 days in London England, arrived back in Minnesota with a shag haircut and a new scooter.  Darlene was a loving woman, but she had one strict rule in her home. "NO ONE touches the Navajo blanket coat".  So, on a Tuesday evening in early fall when she pulled her coat out of storage from the back of the closet and found that someone had left the plastic sleeve protecting her coat unzipped, Darlene was incensed.  Upon further inspection she found that her beloved coat had in fact been attacked by moths, a fact that sent Darlene into a murderous rage.  Her husband climbed the stairs to their marital bedroom in an attempt to "see what all the hubbub was about".  Unfortunately for him that would be his undoing.  Darlene Nordstrom's husband was born a true albino, his total lack of pigment and fluttering hand gestures caused Darlene to have a complete psychotic break.  She now believed that her pale, pale husband was the alpha moth sent to finish off her precious Navajo blanket coat.  She sprang and immediately covered her husband in a handmade quilt. She then beat him to death with her son Todd's aluminum baseball bat.  She spent the next 3 days in a tense stand off with police, and when they finally swarmed her home they found her wrapped in her coat surrounded by piles and piles of mothballs.  It should also be noted that when they stormed her home, her sun porch and indoor cacti garden were ruined in a cruel twist of fate.

Welcome to Australia

It's their mayor!

A friendly traffic dispute.

A friendlier traffic dispute.

Uh oh.

Excuse me sir, but I believe you forgot your shotgun.

No sir, I believe YOU forgot your shotgun.

No, it's my shotgun.

Oh right this is YOUR shotgun, it looks just like mine!

Babies!

Nuns!

It's a desert climate.

Stacy Keach lives here, year round!

Australia exports over 1000 metric tons of hair each year to America.

Leather goods are a vital part of the Australian economy.

Just like in the UK, elevators are called lifts in Australia!

Thanks for visiting! (now get the hell out)

13 year old Sarah weighs in

Hell yeah!! Is that a plastic barrette? It looks like it's just barely staying in, like she didn't even care when she attached it. Can you do that? I'm totally gonna do that and tell everyone I don't give a fuck.  Mom, we're going to Rite Aid.

Oh my god, have you seen this video (probably not).  It's crazy! Well press play if you want an intense experience.  There's this one scene where a really small monkey is on a cross, and then there's these twins, and there are candles EVERYWHERE. A tiny piano!! Whoa! Ok, but don't play it too loud because my parents don't want me to watch this.

Ok, I know there's a baby penis on my t-shirt, but you have to look past that.  He's chasing a dollar bill, underwater.  You know the water represents the womb, and the dollar is the government, because even in the womb they want to control you and your babies. I know this girl on my soccer team who's name is Rochelle and she says that you can get pregnant even if you just go swimming with a guy because sperm swims, kinda like this baby is swimming. Whoa does Nirvana know that this is how babies can be made? Maybe this is one of those pool babies that Kurt made and he and Courtney keep it in a pool ALL the time because they have this mansion in Portland with like 3 pools and they're all connected because the baby never gets out of the pool (he cries). So he just swims from pool, to pool, to pool, and that's why they took this photo and why I bought the t-shirt, Dad.

I mean, he would marry me right? Maybe in a year or two when I get breasts and I'm learning how to play the bass and I'm at the Southern New Jersey gifted and talented annual Olympics of the Mind Competition, maybe he would be a judge! I mean why wouldn't he be the judge at our annual OMC. He's totally gifted, but he doesn't take it seriously like Jill Rodeo who thinks you have to wear turtlenecks and Benetton cardigans just to take AP English. I wrote 3 short stories all about this guy who lives all alone after a nuclear bomb goes off and he grows all these weird tentacles and shit, then he meets this beautiful reluctant vampire girl and they make mutant babies.  I got a B+. 

I mean he's making up his own language. Jill Rodeo says that it's "puerile" and "banal" (her words, what a bitch). But I told her that it's no different than Joyce's use of slang in Ulysses. That shut her up, she's never even read it. I will totally read that book one day when I live in a city with a decent coffee shop. 

This movie wasn't that great.  He pushed those drugs OUT of that lady's arm. That's not cool, I mean he's a musician that doesn't do needle drugs, lame. Although I did like the crow (the bird not the dude) because I read this book about spirit animals and my spirit animal is totally a crow because I have black hair.

My mom says that if I keep up my GPA, I can get these for Christmas.  I don't believe in Christmas, it's a stupid commercial holiday for a god I don't EVEN believe in. I'm a Buddhist, or maybe a Satanist. Just kidding, Satanists are stupid (even though they dress cool).  Coral Roberts dates a metal guy who says he's a Satanist.  I believe her, she's crazy. One time she pretended to be sick and stayed home from school. She prank called 911 like 3 times. She told them her house was on fire. They almost came to her HOUSE! She got in so much trouble.  I would never prank call 911 that's really juvenile, they provide a service.

I like that you can make something so sharp so pretty. I made a ton of these on Saturday  and then I strung them all on this fake pearl necklace I got at the Vineland Goodwill. It's like I took something that NOBODY wanted and made it beautiful.
 I wish I had a boyfriend.

I wish I had a boyfriend like this.

No, more like this! Look at his face, he's so intense.  Maybe we could meet in group therapy in a really poorly run mental institution where the doctors are too jaded (my new favorite word) to care and he doesn't take their meds or their SHIT. Then they try electroshock therapy as a last ditch effort, but he and I escape the night before and we move to Canada and live in a cabin along this beautiful lake. But then we move to the city and become crazy artists in a loft and we never become jaded, ever.

This is going to be my first tattoo.  It's like a cave painting or something you would see woven into a Navajo blanket.  It's so tribal.  Pearl Jam is a really great band because they talk about serious issues, but they just cut through all of the bullshit.  There's a lot of bullshit in the world.

This band (you've probably never even heard of them) is called Daisy Chainsaw.  Cool right! It's just like the beaded safety pins, they took a soft thing and a dangerous thing and they combined it together. It's like how my band is going to be called Concrete Cotton Candy. Don't use it, I already called it. Jill Rodeo told me that I'm not a good musician because she made first chair violin and I only made second chair. I told her that the next time she and her brother Carl go swimming, she's going to get knocked up.

I like how they placed the eye the wrong way. It's cool how you can turn something like an eyelid on it's side and it doesn't mean anything. I think the eye is crying too, weird. Well, that's the Cure for you.
Ok bye!!!

                                                   
                                                        

   

So you want to have a baby