Wednesday, November 30, 2005

I am actually not a very happy beasty right now.

I fell down last night on my way home and my shit hurts. Knees and
back. And I did something to the area between my left shoulder blade
and neck. It fucking hurts.

I didn't skin anything or bleed (miraculously) but I fucking hurt today. Bad.

I got sedated type sleep last night but I don't feel at all rested. I
am a cranky little bastard today.

And I'm having writing issues (issues in general) that I don't even
know how to start into nor do I think I have time or space to do so
right now.


On with the plan.

Get moved.

Resurrect my hardcore budget.

Find some kind of at home(ish) part time work of some sort.

Not kill anyone.

Goodnight Frank.

PS...I hate the smell of leaf blower exhaust.

PPS... The next person to ask me how excited I am about the holidays
gets a pen jammed in their eye. Die overly perky people kthnks.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Anthony made me do it.
Bloody Glitter's NEW Survey
Name & nickname(s):Shannon, Beasty, Nudemuse, Lil Fucka,
Age, Birthday & Zodiac sign:28, 03/16/1977, Pisces
Hair & Eye color:Black, almost black
Contacts or hairdye?:Contacts, hairdye often but not lately.
What you like to wear most often:Um...bum covers
What you wear when you go out:LIttle as weather allows
What do 'they' like to call you?:Um...bob?
Do you agree or disagree?:NO!
Blood or Glitter?:Bloody glitter
Types of music:All of it
Bands:(always subject to change: currently) Etta James, Sevendust, Nina Simone, Coltrane, Johnny Cash
Albums or songs:Yeah lots of em
Music videos:Lapdance (Uncensored)
Actors & Actresses:
Types of Movies:Ones that don't put me to sleep
Movie Titles:Ask me later
Foods:Sushi, gummy bears
Beverages:Tea, good coffee, Jack, Grey Goose
Jewelry:Labret none other currently.
Perfume:African Love, Rain (oils)
Other scents:Attar of Rose, Nag champa,
Colors:Purple, Silver, Black
Politics & religion
What is/will be your chosen political party?:Mine
What religion were you brought up into?:None
What is your religion/belief now?:Varies
What political issue is most important to you?:People getting a fucking clue.
What environmental issue is most important to you?:Water
What religious issue is most imporant to you?:Freedom of it
If you could change, remove or create five laws what would they be?
a.:Beat your kids or spouse? Get gang raped by the Aryan nation.
b.:Rapist? Lose your balls.
c.:fatally stupid? Die.
d.:Smoke pot? Go home and don't eat all my twinkies.
e.:Like to touch kids? Lose your frontal lobe.
Sexual orientation?:Lots of it please..thank you.
How do you feel about Gay marriage?:Get married if it works.
Drinking?:Yes vodka martini now.
Legalization of marijuanna?:Sure
The Patriot Act (and other invasions of privacy/freedom):Fuck you Bush.
Abortion?:Not up to me. Discuss it with your god.
Friendship/Social life/other activities
What do you look for in a friend?:Mutual respect, humour, loving heart, good laugh,
What is your favorite thing to do with friends?:Talk, sing, cuddle
If you could go anywhere in the world, where & why?:Right now I'd go to New Zealand and enjoy the weather.
Which 3 friends would you bring with you?:Mike, Adam and Cookie
Do you have a significant other?:Yes
Is it love or lust?:Both
Do you have a crush?:Quite a few
Who is the sexiest famous person you can think of?:Right now I'm pretty hot for
Do you like to hang out at home or go out more?:Home unless it's nice out.
Bars or Bookstores?:Both..
Favorite places to shop for clothing/fashion?:Um...yeah where it's cheap
Favorite places to shop for odds & ends?:Dusty dim places
Are you shy or outgoing?:Both
Are you more outgoing on the internet than in real life?:Not really
What are you wearing?:Low rise DKNY jeans(my first and only designer jeans) black bell sleeved tshirt, black hoody, labret, no shoes.
What time is it/What's your time zone?:5:37 PM PST
Are you with friends or alone?:Alone
What's your mood like?:Amused
Who (or what) are you thinking of?:My friends
What are you eating or drinking?:Genmaicha tea
What's on your computer desk?:Tea, cd's, mug, tea bags, spoon, two phones, stack of papers, clipboard, sugar packet, four ink pens, lip gloss
What's the coolest thing in your room?:My feet usually
What have you recieved as a gift lately?:Money
What have you given as a gift recently?:Tea
What song are you listening to (or other sound)?:Rammstein something I can't pronounce or spell
If you could add or subtract 3 questions from this survey....:Um...
a:What is your favorite kind of pie?
b:If you don't like pie what the hell is wrong with you?
c:And are you for puppies?
Why do you think you joined this community?:
Have you made any friends here so far?:No....are you watching me?
What do you think of the community in general?'s not Bob.
What sorts of things (creative, or whatever) would you like to share?:How about my creative use of my middle finger?
And what did you think of this survey in general?:It was pretty fancy.
Take this survey | Find more surveys
You've been totally Bzoink*d


Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Is it just me or is using flashy animated graphics on a site designed for migraine sufferers just fucking rude?

So yeah I have yet another migraine. I've been doing some research and if it's anything like what I've been reading well shit.

I decided that since I'm going to start going back to the doc since our insurance has changed I should probably list some of my symptoms.

Lately it's as follows:
Serious pain from about the nape of my neck down through my shoulders. My neck feels like rebar to the touch. I get stabby type pain. Also added to the fun is pre-migraine mania. Jitters. Nausea. Sometimes my speech is a little fuzzy or slow. My right eye twitches. I have a hard time concentrating on anything.

During said migraine I alternately want to scream, bash my head against my desk, cry and puke.

Cute no?

According to MIDAS I have quite the disability.

Although if I actually called in as much as I felt like with the banging head, I'd have gotten fired awhile ago I think.


My fucking head hurts.

My fucking head hurts really bad and I am sorely tempted to stab myself in the eye. Or get something pierced and/or tattoed.

Monday, November 21, 2005

I don't know if I mentioned it before but I really love poetry.
Lately I've been very into buying more poetry.

So today before work I stopped to peruse the .50 cent and 2 dollar
books racks at Twice Sold Tales and what did I find? A very good copy
of target="_blank">The American Night: The Writings of Jim Morrison.
One of my favorite collections. It was two dollars but since I am a
regular face at that store the cute girl (who I have a lil bit of a
crush on) gave it to me for 50 cents.

I've loved poetry since I was a really little kid. The first poem I
remembered really loving was href="" target="_blank">
"Stopping by Woods On a Snowy Evening." by Rober Frost. I
memorized it (which came in handy a few years later because I had to
do it for school) and just loved it.

I remember being on a bus to an away basketball game while I was a
cheerleader and spending most of it reading poetry to one of the other
girls. I think one of them was called 'To Hope' (because that was her
name) but I can't quite remember. Fucksake.

Anyhow. Yes I love poetry. All kinds of poetry. Classics such as
Ovid and Sappho, Allen Ginsberg, Nikki Giovanni, Pablo Neruda, Rumi,
on and on. I love picking up poets I've never heard of and being

I love it.

In writing news I'm getting a submission ready but I'm trying (read
struggling with and whining about) to write an author bio. I hate
writing those things. I always want to say something ridiculous but
then I'm afraid I won't be taken seriously. I know my sense of humour
can be off so I try not to be too strange but GAH.

The only bio I have isn't really suitable for non-porno so yeah.
Doing that. Going down my list of links to send other things off to
be dissected. Submitting work is fucking nerve wracking.

Not as nerve wracking however as actually writing.

Work on my anthology continues rather slowly. I'll have to wait until
after we move so I can start designing the cover and whatnot.

And Collette your comment sparked a thought and I'll get to it when I can think semi straight.

And uh....yeah that's it.

At least for now.

Homo Out.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

I am very very tired and my jaw hurts so I don't feel like talking about my emotions. So instead I'm going to talk about sex and gender. If anything genderqueer freaks you out go read somewhere else.

I was thinking this morning about gender because as I was sitting on the ferry on my way to work, I saw a very cute boy walk by and I had quite a moment of lechery. I thought almost immediately about dragging him into the unisex single stall loo and buggering him until he begged for mercy or creamed all over the sink.

I am not entirely female. Biologically yes I am all girl but, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually I am part all man. Big nasty butt fucking faggoty man.

There are a lot of people who don't understand how I can say that when at a look, and upon closer inspection I am very much woman. Little nasty fucking faggoty woman.

I have never felt any issue with it. I am not gender confused. No one ever planted the idea in my head. It's just there. Always has been.

It's a hard thing to explain to most people. And right now I just don't feel like it. If you absolutely must know more go to the library and/or go buy a book. I don't feel the need to play instructor and/or homo diplomat.

Back to my original thought.

After I entertained the little mental porno of screwing the boy I realized much to my amusement that God in Her infinite wisdom (or whatever) made a good choice in not making me a biological man. I don't think I'd be a nice man.

External genetalia would probably give me that last little excuse to try and hump everyone I find attractive. Not to mention the whole peeing thing. I would piss on things and probably get arrested for it. Spiteful, vengeful peeing is far easier when all you have to do is unzip and not squat.

Further more. I would probably have a bad habit of tea bagging people out of spite. And for recreation.

So people thank your Gods that I do not have a cock. Just think of all the buttholes and mostly straight boys who are safe from being violated by me.

That's not to say I don't feel like I have a cock. I frequently talk about my cock and balls. I have been heard to threated to stick my dick in someone's ear, nose, butt, or mouth. Told people to lick my sweaty balls, that they make my balls hurt etc.

Some people are a little traumatized and very confused by that. I don't really care.

And really the illusion that all boy butts and girl parts are safe from some Nudiemuse brand Deep Dicking (tm). Don't think for a minute I will not bend you over and fuck you until you can't see.


Because I would.

And I'd enjoy it.

And let's not even discuss getting kinky. Just say Yes Sir and mean it and we won't have any problems.

Ok I think I've spent my load on the subject for now. And probably frightened a few people but that's ok. It's good for you.

In other news I have the worst kind of craving for Chinese food right now.

It's so bad my balls hurt.

Homo Out.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

The stabby/bitey vibe continues with a nice intermission thanks to my Boy Venus.

Books are to be purchased. And I am going to sit and have some Dragon
Well tomorrow before work.

I was on my way to work today trying to concentrate and jot down the
beginning of a story when what sat behind me? Spoiled squealy teen
aged girls.

I heard everything from, "I don't see why they won't just buy me the
new one I mean it's only 20 grand."


"My Mom is being such a bitch she won't let me drive her Lexus and I
have to drive a used car."

It took every ounce of self control I posessed not to turn around and
screech like a twink on a fashion rampage,


My inner faggy boi is feeling bitchy and put upon by the nattering and
whining of over priveliged people.

I recall being a teenager sucked but complaining about Mumsy and Daddy
not dropping twenty grand for a girl who admittedly "crashed her old
car three times" is target="_blank"> ricockulous.

It took me the better half of getting my make up on to stop twitching.

And if I hear one more girl/boi/whatever squeal "HOLLA" I am going to
tie their target="_blank">beef curtains in a knot around their ears. Mmkay?

So where was I?

Oh yes, because of strict instructions from Boy Venus I am going to
get myself some books.

target="_blank">Roomanitarian by Henry Rollins this one is new
and I really want it. So into my cart it goes.

I'm considering target="_blank">The Demon by Hubert Selby Jr.. I really loved href=""
target="_blank">Last Exit To Brooklyn and from what I hear The
Demon is even better.

What I have left goes into my Paypal mad money. I have a Paypal debit
card that I've found very handy to keep a little mad money in. For
trinkets, things on Ebay or other auction sites I might want.

Who knows.

Jesus TAPDANCING Christ I fucking hate it when people look over my
shoulder while I'm typing. More in a moment.

What was I going to say?

I actually don't remember.

So I'll say something else.

As I keep writing I have been seeing some writing related things I'd
love to go to however given that I work swing shift most of them I
just can't go to and it sucks.

For instance target="_blank">No Safe Word a local erotica writers group. I've
seen and read ads for them and I can't help but have a little pang of
'goddamn work-ness' because I think going to something like that might
be enjoyable.

But it's all right.

I do belong to a couple of writers message boards and I have learned
to enjoy those quite a bit.

Oh goodness. Time for tea I'm freezing because someone thought it was
a bright idea to have the a/c on all day.

Sometimes I do not like...boys.

I think that's it for right now. My fingers are cold and stiff and I
need some tea.

Homo Out.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

I am in fact feeling both stabby and bitey thus, I don't suggest
rattling my cage. Nothing like having to explain how you managed to
get stabbed with a pen and get bitten by a short angry black woman.

Not how you want to spend your evening.

Why am I so stabby and bitey?

Because I am working up a cluster headache in my right eye that has me
on edge and crankier than usual. Add to that the general charm of
where I work, lots of computers, lots of white noise, lots of
atmosphere unconducive to keeping a hurting head happy and ther eyou



Where was I? I saved this an hour ago.

Right. Stabby bitey...right ok.

3.5 hours later I'm not feeling much better.

So yeah.


Nevermind I guess.

Friday, November 11, 2005

I'm working on yet another tech manual thing and decided to take a
break while my eyes decide to readjust.

During some of my many talks about life and my life in particular with
Boy Venus I've come to realize that often the big picture and the
future tend to come in dead last for me.

It's a strange thing. In one respect when it comes to work and
business I'm very well able to grasp the long term and put it into the
context of right now. No problem.

But when it comes to my life, for so long now I've had to worry about
right now that I just can't process the long term.

The reasons are usually the same. Keeping a roof over my head, food
in the fridge, etc are my usual immediate concerns and tend to be more
pressing than the big projected the future.

It reminds me of this girl I used to be friends with. The friendship
ended mainly because our lives were gulfs apart but that's neither
here nor there. I remember being awed by the fact that she seemed to
have things so easy.

When she couldn't pay her rent her parents paid it. She didn't like
her job, she quit and her parents paid her bills. She wanted a new
car her parents bought one. She got married and gets the same sort of
treatment from both her husband and her parents.

At the same age I was still living with my parents and paying $575 in
rent along with household chores, babysitting whenever asked. I was
making 6.50 an hour and struggling. I paid all my own bills. Cell
phone (I didn't use my parents phone), food, transportation, other
expenses. When I lost my job in a lay off I pawned the only two very
important possessions I had and was screamed at for doing so by my
parents. But they made it clear I would be kicked out if I didn't pay
my rent.

My life revolved at that point around finding a job, going without and
getting out. I did find a job. I moved out of my parents house and
to Tacoma with the woman I worked graveyard shift at a phone sex
company billing office with. We made 7.50 an hour and supported two
kids, the house, a car. We weren't lovers but told the state we were
so the kids would have medical coverage. When our car broke down we
hustled (and by hustled I mean hustled in the pulled a fast one sense)
to get it running and drove it illegally.

We floated checks, lied occasionally to the landlord etc just to make
sure those kids had food, clothes, good birthdays and Christmas.

As I have done for a long time I did what I had to do.

Including lie, cheat and steal in a sense.

The friend I referred to above threatened to report us to the state
for fraud and I remember being so angry. How could this spoiled
provided for womanchild judge me for just trying to get by? Thus the
friendship ended.

Once upon a time I still had a bright sense of hope. Even when I was
loved and praised by an employer only to get screwed out of my job, a
chance to own a house (that fucked up my entire existence) I thought
that if I just did things right and tried hard enough the big picture,
the future would turn out ok.

I am not an optimist. As I've told Boy Venus I'm simply hard headed.

That's not to say that there haven't been (many) times in my life
where everything bad that can happen did. When I was down and out
enough that the only real option seemed like suicide or laying in the
gutter to die or let whatever happen. There have been times where I
might not have been suicidal consciously but I lived recklessly enough
that it's a miracle that I've made it to 28.

Yes. Yes I've been there. Sometimes I still have half a foot in it.
Sometimes both feet in it.

So then of course the question is why am I still here?

What keeps me going?

I am still here because there is one thing I've held in my heart for
my whole life.

Fuck that.

Fuck (insert Deity/fate/whatever idea here).

Fuck you (God or whomever) if you think you can fuck me up that badly.

Fuck you if you think I can't take it.

Fuck you because I am no body's fucking pawn.

Fuck you because I will not be ground down into nothing.

I am not joyful in this. I am not hopeful in it. I am pissed off. I
am past pissed off. I am enraged.

I will not give into the blackness and the sadness.


Because I've been through too fucking much. I've lost too many
friends, I've lost too much of what matters to me. Fuck that.

People familiar with bikers, gangsters etc will know the creed.

Fuck the World.

Loco Por Vida.

Thug Life.

Hard core.

(If you don't understand these terms look em up.)

People have asked me how I survived. That's all.

It's not that I've been saved by anyone or anything.

The plain fact is I am balls out crazy.

I'm not out to prove myself to other people. The only persons
standards I have to live up to are my own. The only person that can
save me is me. No man is an island is true, but I am my own fucking

I'm not saying it doesn't hurt. I'm not saying I get beat down and
broken. What I'm saying is fuck that. Fuck it.

Say it to yourself. Fuck it.

Even if you don't curse.

Say it.

Fuck it.

Look all the bad shit right in the eye and say fuck you.

I say it because it's the only thing I know. This is the only way I
know how to survive. And no. Sometimes the future and the big
picture aren't right there. I used to feel bad about that. But right
at this minute I don't.

I learned very young that the future doesn't always exist and tomorrow
might not come (add your own cliche here) so I do what I can to
survive the days.

Someday when I'm old and maybe not so crazy I can look back at myself
today and smile. Nod a little and raise my glass.

That is my big hope. Not just for long life but at the midnight of my
existence I want to look back and laugh.

I'm done.

If you made it through all of this congratulate yourself.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Ok it's Monday. And thus far I've managed to put on a full face of make up on a moving vessel. About trip and fall on my ass and forgot to take my antihistemine before I got a cup of coffee so now I have the swelly scary feeling in my throat.

It's not that I can't or am having a hard time getting breath but, it's still not the greatest feeling ever. It reminds me in a very bad way of having an allergic reaction to a medication as a kid and having my throat about swell shut.

Medivac-Childrens hospital-heart about stopped-yeah bad fucking memory.

Anyhow. In other less childhood trauma type news I've been thinking about my issues around self care. I took a good look at myself in the mirror last night and my outsides are suffering the turmoil of my insides.

My skin looks almost haggard. The stress feels like it's coming out of my pores. So in order to stem the inevitable flow of "I don't give a fuck I have other things I have to take care of." Which translates roughly to I come last.

I've done a few nice things for myself. Including buying myself this lipstain off of ebay that I've been lusting after. I bought new hair, and a wholesale lot (For a dollar!!) of eyeshadows. The ones I don't like I'll probably sell.

I've also been making a conscious effort not to feel so bad when I look in the mirror.

As I get older and more "grown up" I find more and more reasons that self care comes last. There are bills to pay, other people to take care of, work to do and at the end of the day there's (at least it doesn't feel like) not enough left of me to take care of me.

That in and of itself is a complete 360 from how I was even five years ago. I don't know what happened exactly but here I am.

So I'm taking steps and making myself (even when I feel guilty about it) take care of myself. I have to face it. I'm not 20 anymore and I can't just bounce back in a few days.

So yeah.

In other news for those of you who think rottweilers are evil vicious dogs I have to share something from my walk to the ferry this morning.

As I'm walking down the street coming towards me is a lady with a stroller and baby inside, then just behind her a guy with a very big rotty. The "big bad" rotty stopped and refused to walk anymore until she got a good sniff of the baby.

What followed was nothing short of dog/baby CUTENESS. The baby squeals, makes one of those slobbery burbles and gets herself a handfull of doggy ears, the dog snuffed and licked the baby from chin to forehead, baby laughed, Mom laughed, I laughed, guy who's dog it was-was very adorably flustered.

He said:

"I don't know what it is she just loves babies. Everytime we pass babies she has to kiss them."

He blushed. Dog and baby communed as dogs and baby do in slobber and strange noises. Dog was satisfied, everybody had a giggle and went on about their day.

Not all rotties are vicious beasts just as not all humans are vicious beast s.

Some just need a chance, and to get baby slobbered on sometimes.

And Tommie the email address I have for you bounced I think it's broken.

And I'm spent. I'm going to eat my rice pudding and cruise Ebay for more uber deals.

Homo out.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Notes to self:

Sitting muttering about male genital piercings will get you weird looks from coworkers.

Wow that's fucked up. Is a good compliment from someone who likes fucked up things.

Oh before I forget. The Odin thing.

I had a friend who while trying to describe some boy he'd seen at Goth night at one of the local clubs said,

"He looked like a Viking in Drag."

Then really fast,

"Odin don't smite me kthanks."

I thought it was funny. And it pops into my head from time to time.

On writing: I'm working on something new. It has to do with what some boys will put up with in order to get laid regularly. In this case getting perforated by needles and being expected to learn how to skin a woman on command.

And I'm -still- working on the other thing I started about psychic and the psycho. The middle of the story is really hard, I have no idea what's happening there. I know the end, I had the start. I'm tempted to start myself a new genre. Start-end no filler.

It'll be a revolution.

And as for that Dollbaby.v.2 it can lick my balls. I cannot get it straight. Fuck it, it can die.

The original Doll Baby story however I think I might submit around. That one has an entirely different feel.

And instead of Nanowrimo I think there should be Nanohomo.

As in you sign up and have to be as gay as you possibly can. Which in my case wouldn't be hard since I'm half a fag anyway.

That by the way is my favorite phrase from the book Motherless Brooklyn. An apt moniker for me.

What was I saying?

I got distracted by some violent pornographic thoughts.

Mainly that I haven't written any porno in awhile. mmm gay porn.

Best compliment I've recieved from my porn:

"You write that as if you had a cock."


Ok I'm done. I have things to do.

Homo Out

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Earlier today I recieved a rejection letter from some magazine I submitted to months ago. And while they "liked the theme" of the poetry I submitted they don't want to publish it.

That is ok.

What is not ok is to send a rejection letter that hasn't been spell checked.

And don't question my use of indentation when you can't spell the word mmkay?

And yes Mike P you dirty bastard, I think I agree with you about Nanowrimo. It's just not happening for me this year.

Last year went reasonably well. I wrote a novelette that's been stuck in my head for ages. I had fun with it. But not so much this year.

In other news I'm still plugging away getting my poetry book together. I think I'm going to go for about 50-80 pages or so. I think I have enough material for that. On second thought maybe I won't make it all poetry. Include some of my other stuff. Rants, other assorted nonsense that might go in well.

And I still want to rewrite that Dollbaby v.2 story. I have an idea to change the ending quite a bit. And I have to get to submitting a few other things here and there.

Not to mention a promised album review, email to a friend and quite possibly a blurb for someones website.


Watch me go.

Odin don't smite me kthnks.

(I'll explain the above some other time. Inside joke with a dead friend.)

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Ok it's officially fall in Seattle. I walked to the ferry today in steady rain and I'm freezing. My lack of waterproof coat or anything like that was made highly apparant. Yes I know I should carry an umbrella but I have a terrible track record with leaving them on the bus and such.

And I am going to have to start wearing one of my pairs of boots. While my new sneakers are comfy they are not very water resistant and my toes are wet and cold as we speak.

What fun what joy.

I was thinking last night while I was ever so busy not sleeping that I am actually feeling cautiously optimistic. It feels sort of strange actually. There's some little pocket of something in my heart that's just in ther eflickering away.
I'm still overwhelmed with the amount of work there is to do in making Mike and my home together but I think it will be ok.

Baby steps towards the goal.

And I'm spent.

Goodnight Frank.

PS...A Perfect Circle's cover of the Marvin Gaye song 'What's going On' makes me moist.

PPS Anthony you have mail coming soon as I can stop being stupid and can type correctly.

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