Music Addiction

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Me, Myself, + Music Monday: 04/02/2018: The Crunchtime 2 Impeach Manwhore in Chief Is On Edition

Published April 2, 2018 by swanielwolfambrosia2010

I’m just a Sucker for Pain…  -Imagine Dragons, Sucker for Pain (Chorus), from the Suicide Squad soundtrack

Siblings of the Universal Social Scene:

I’m listening to Epic Rap Battles of History Radio on Pandora as Rosé Archangel Morgan (my first account, that is), and I’m listening to Heathens by twenty one pilots from the same cinematic soundtrack, from which I quoted in the beginning of this post.  The past 2.5 weeks has been hell.  First it’s Chris Pratt and Anna Faris, now it’s the Channing Tatum + Jenna Dewan…..?  It’s fucking TRUMP’s fault!!!!! I KNEW that from Inauguration Day.  I’m so angry I just want to impeach every motherfucker, left and right, I just…….don’t care…..anymore.  I’m so sorry, but I hope every Republican is fucking happy with this, ‘kay?  I can’t fucking EVEN.  I’m sorry, but I’m trying to keep from raising my voice in reality.

I had my copy of Lost Seasons 2-4 on DVD sold to a mutual friend of my mother’s.  I was so cross I had to turn my back to keep myself from doing a fatal blow on someone, then, after thinking it over, I just left it at that, knowing that God will provide.  Today…..Christ made it so.  I have Lost Seasons 4 + 5 on Blu-ray, which isn’t so bad, after all.  Today, I ordered the To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before series [To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, P.S.:  I Still Love You, Always + Forever, Lara Jean] by Jenny Han, and the GrishaVerse [Shadow + Bone, Siege + Storm, Ruin + Rising] by Leigh Bardugo on my thriftbooks app.  I took $5 off the total amount, and, sure enough, bought a soda at one of the vending machines at the 5 Points city bus terminal, so I’m so ecstatic about having them all in the mail by next week….or earlier, God willing.  By the time I turn 26, on Monday, April 30, I’ll have all six seasons of Lost, and some more books on my shelves in the closet.  *tee hee*.  I could accept co-parenting, as long as both sides don’t go bitter, like my mother had been towards the piece of shit I no longer call my father….and, you know what?  I’m a let Trump go to jail…and let Bubba kill his ass, once that happens.  Until that happens, however, forever love….will be a fantasy.  That’s all I’m saying on this.  I’ve neither time nor tolerance for bullshit.  I know a few family members and friends that aren’t used to me being blue bullheaded sayings, but, hey, then again, whatcha gon’ do?  (By the way, Blockers is one excuse of a movie I ain’t watching.  Fuck it.  Nice try, John.  Get your friend, Daniel Bryan, a cousin for his daughter to play with, so I won’t be so Gordon Ramsay on your ass, okay?  Jesus.)  Oh, before I forget, 3 days of Pandora Premium are waiting for y’all.  By the time I finish writing this blog post, you should be enjoying those 3 days of the shit by now.  I’m just saying, though.  I hope teens that appeared on Cops either got an MMA career…..or just asked Dr. Phil for a job.  I’m only saying.

I need to get myself to knowing that my boyfriend blocked me for my own good….Maybe I need to quit stalking people and start doing some fanfiction.  Where to begin, though?  Damn.  I can’t wait until he starts talking to me again, so I won’t be feeling anxious anymore, damn.  I can’t even wait until I can screenshot James’ face and put him on my blog again, but, until then….books from WHI is the best option.  Goddamn it, James!  Where are you at, baby boy?  He still loves me…..I may not know it, though.  I’m such a beautiful mess, damn.  It’s time for me to post, shower, + call to get to the daycare earlier than 10 am tomorrow morning.


Fiesty Frisky Friday: 10.06.2017: The Time Flies Way Too Fast When You’re Working Your Ass Off For What’s Needed Edition

Published October 6, 2017 by swanielwolfambrosia2010

…I am one of the few people in our happy little family willing to own up to what they did.  -Stephen King, Rita Hayworth + Shawshank Redemption, from Different Seasons: Four Novellas

It’s going to be a long night of reading to Classical music celebrating Autumn tonight, that is, if I don’t get my ass some sleep first.  But, before I start reading, here’s the recap of this week:

Monday, I ripped George off again, this time I cried like a bitch, then put myself into accountability through my bipolar talking shit on the last couple blog posts….on purpose, to teach my ass a lesson on Tuesday.  Wednesday + yesterday were better, though.

This morning….was the giftiest bitch of all.  Mother Nature paid a weekly visit, thank God.  I was unprepared, like usual, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t ready to face it again.  So, it may be WTMI for y’all, but it’s likely that by Happiness Hemp Day next week that the bleeding stops, and then next Feisty Frisky Friday will be over for ‘nother month.  Yaaaaaay.  [BTW, if I said too much on the Mother Nature subject, I’m sorry.]

One of my replacement copies for the first two books I ordered three years ago, the Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition of The Tale of Genji by Lady Murasaki Shikibu, is way surprisingly likely to be in my mail tomorrow, so another yay for me, too.  My replacement copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson will be here by either Monday or Tuesday next week.  The week after that, is my 7-volume A Song of Ice + Fire  collection will be in my mail!  Isn’t this beautiful tonight, mis amores?!  I’m so ecstatic about my books coming in the mail.  The upcoming 5 leather bound books [A Song of Ice + Fire] will be up to order by Monday, October 23; I already paid my cell phone bill very early, so that’ll be my reward for waiting on saving every damn $21 left over.  Then, once the next Monday comes by, Bernie is getting a shave off.  Then, by December 30, he will get shaved again, and every two months after by the near end of the month.  No exceptions nor excuses.  The reason why I make sure my shit is front and center in justified format is because straight lines on blog are cool.  Jagged…not so much, in my eyes.  Door closed and calmness reigning over the place, it’s time for me to jet to my reading out of my 4.5 year slump!  See you tomorrow!

Ash Dixon.


Things That Piss Me The Fuck Off Tuesday: 10.03.2017: The “Will the Next Chester Bennington Please Stand Up?” Edition

Published October 3, 2017 by swanielwolfambrosia2010

I’m One Step Closer To the Edge/And I’m About To Break…  -Linkin Park, One Step Closer

This lyric has hit home too many times.  Yesterday was one of them.  I ripped someone off way more than I should have, which is never, and now I wish I had the ability to rip every Republican out of their money, savings accounts included.  In other words:  I wish I didn’t.  It led me to thinking suicidally, which led to many people in my mind going to visit my grave over something that ultimately the fucking truth, which is the bitterest dose of my own medicine to date.  It pissed me off so badly, I slammed doors and nearly broke holes in the wall.  Yes, I relapsed myself.  Was it necessary or uncalled-for?  It was very self-disrespectful, and totally uncalled-for.  Was it worth the destructive behavior I caused towards Father?  Absolutely not.  Will yesterday teach me a hugely valuable lesson in lesbianism, poverty, loneliness, and old age?  If I don’t force-feed myself this damn bitter dose of my own bullshit, then yes.  Yes it will, every damn motherfucking day for the rest of my life.  The taste is so shitty and so bitter, that it’s really going to motherfucking stain me for a long, long, long, long time.  I better teach myself how not to steal ever again, even if it means having to take 3 hours of long walks in the park without my cell phone in my presence every day to prevent any future destructive behaviors inside this place or anywhere else for that matter, even if it means having to play loud ass heavy metal to calm myself down, even if it means just not saying or doing anything stupid anymore by forcing myself into walking in extremely cold weather, and hope to God I don’t die of hypothermia….that is, if people don’t find me first.  I just…..need to fucking find something else to do for work, otherwise my life is over and there’s nothing I can do about it.  The life I’ll be forced to live is filled with stripping, lesbians, poverty…..and……if I don’t want any of that……..Now is the time for me to grow up, otherwise the hard way will claim a new victim very soon enough.  Nobody I have in my life will want me anymore if I become a force-fed lesbian from jail.  My own medicine is so fucking bitter.  I wish it just wasn’t, but I’ll eat my own sin and my own bullshit, anyway.  It’s the only fucking way I’ll woman up to everything I did wrong.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to cry…..yet again.  I’m sorry.



♥Sunset, Sunrise, + Starlight Saturday: The 07/15/2017 Edition, also known as: The Lemme D.E.A.R. Edition♥

Published July 15, 2017 by swanielwolfambrosia2010

If you permanently have a new puppy, You Might Be A Redneck.  -Jeff Foxworthy, Jeff Foxworthy’s You Might Be A Redneck If… 2017 Calendar, Wednesday, February 22, 2017 joke of the day.

Universal Social Squad:

It’s been exactly three months since the last Saturday blog.  Allow me to speed things up, starting with the bad news:

  1. I got fined $16.99 in outstanding library fines.
  2.  I forgot to put my portion of the light bill on there this month, due to book buying excitement.
  3.  That excitement turned into part happy, part disappointed:  Happy because my Lunar Chronicles came in 2 separate days, disappointed because I got refunded my $50 because the supply ran out.  Now I have to go save 4-5 weeks of $20 each in order to get my 2013 Special Edition Harry Potter box set in paperback on either eBay or Amazon, and that sucks for me to do it, but I fucking might as well everytime I get money until I reach either $80 or $100 to foot the bill for the third time in a row, which will be the rabbit’s charm.  Until then, I can’t do anything today, due to cell phone bill pay….either that or get the shit cut off.
  4. No digital cameras in my possession anymore.  I hope my mom keeps her Xmas promise, because, if not, I’m going to have to save a lot more for a new digital camera.  Had she said the Sony was NOT for sale, then I wouldn’t be writing this, would I?   All I have is a Sony 16 GB SD card to show for the sale.  *sigh*.
  5. Last, but not least, my free time is dwindling away and so are my chances to have anything to myself, like I said [look at no. 4, idiot].  These old people are fucking lucky I’m their roommate/daughter and not Moses from Ye Olde Testamente.  Very fucking lucky.  A woman can dream, can’t I?  I’m trying very hard to type this, but, damn.

Now, the good news:

  1. My food stamps are now $194/month.
  2. My copy of the Lunar Chronicles series books [pictured above] came in on Wednesday [Stars Above] via UPS + eBay and yesterday [Cinder, Scarlet, Cress, Fairest, Winter] via USPS + Amazon.  I can’t wait for my copy of the graphic novel, Wires and Nerve.
  3. I got to buy the special event season of The X-Files, the second, third, and fourth seasons of LostPeter Jackson’s King Kong Syphon Filter: Dark Mirror on PlayStation 2, the 40th anniversary edition of Mary Poppins, + Blade on DVD at the pawn shop today.  (Just when I thought one season will do, 4 is way better!)  I want to binge watch Lost right now to ignore the old people arguing over who did what.  Only God can judge us.  We can’t judge each other.  The only drawback to this:  Who wants to pay my cell phone bill, yo?
  4. My SSI is reinstated, as of last month.  I forgot to tell you this earlier.
  5. Last, but never least, I would like to say that, depending on circumstances….I might do reviews on my blog, this one, at least.  I haven’t figured out the details yet, but, as soon as I get this on the green light, I’ll be able to tell you my system of ratings, depending on what I’m watching, listening to, or reading at the moment.

These past few weeks have been hard on my parents/roommates.  It’s just my mom’s paranoia that doesn’t get me anymore.  I’m not paranoid myself, but I just talk to myself in public to remember what the hell I really need to do in the next few days.  It’s totally normal to do so, really.  In your head or in public, self-talk is beneficial.  Trust me on this.  I really hope things look up for Mom and Pops, so please pray for me.  The probability of writing another part of today’s blog is highly unlikely, but, maybe, just maybe, if I get myself motivated enough to walk more often, then I’ll be able to write more blog posts like this one.  I hope to write an update on this blog post, and soon.  I’ll write tonight or tomorrow.


Me, Myself, + Music Monday: The 5.29.2017 Edition, aka: The Cosmic Chain of Peace, Love, Resistance, Beauty, + Living Memories Edition

Published May 29, 2017 by swanielwolfambrosia2010

There is a house in New Orleans/They call the Rising Sun/And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy/And, God, I know I’m one.  –The Animals, House of the Rising Sun

My Cosmic Brothers + Sisters:

The music coming out of my Sylvania Water Dancing Bluetooth Speaker is from my Classic Rock Radio Station on Pandora, via the Windows X desktop app.  The music that was created in a time where original music was given mad respect that went to shit this decade, thanks to the evil Heartless Party O. 45, ViceRoy Pennywise, and their crew of slavemasters + oppressors are leading, and letting themselves crumble to shit while making Panem a reality out of the United States of America in the process, is associated to my resistance to the politico pickle we’re in, and those of who are just fed up with the bullshit associated with that, freedoms that our soldiers fought for us to keep, and, most importantly of all, the people who are in my life.  When I mention people in my life, I mean those who have stayed with me for the last 6 years of my life, supporting and believing in me, including my friend and ex-boyfriend, Daniel Paul Harrienger II, who is married to Lorena Rios-Harrienger, who I’ve yet to see, but I’ll bet is as gorgeous as I am, too, and who I’ll accept as my friend, no matter what.  The marriage betwixt the two was unexpected, but, when Dan had to tell me on the phone a week and three days ago, that shock stabbed me in my heart so fucking hard I cried most of the day, trying not to think about it, but the tears of pain were also tears of joy, because, to be motherfucking frank on this, by that day’s end, I became grateful enough to forgive him, Lori, our families, and, best of all this, I forgave myself for everything that happened, and everything that should’ve happened, but didn’t.  I cried so fucking hard that day, that I became too weak to get angry with anyone for anything at all.  Even George, my neighbor, hated to see me in bloodshot tear-filled eyes, wanting me to go psycho on my own best high school choirmate. But I couldn’t-and wouldn’t-make myself do that shit. My grandma may have raised me for 22 years of my life, but, hell, the truth is:  She didn’t raise me to go apeshit psycho on an ex-boyfriend, therefore, she didn’t raise me to be a punk bitch nor to be a psycho-ass modern-day answer to Gerard Butler’s Leonidas in 300, I’ll give all y’all that for free.  I’m more of Stuart Redman when I’m the usual bad bitch, but, piss me off, Leonidas will be what you asked for.  In simpler terms, I had too much heart to hurt anyone that day.  Acceptance and forgiveness were all I had to do.  Since then, Dan told me I can come over anytime I wish (but I should call him about that first, whenever I do), also told me whenever I see him and Lori to just say hi to them [which I’ll be respectfully obliged to do], and, most importantly of all, just be myself and on my best behavior around them, too (e.g., not to say anything stupid and negative about them at all, of which I have be mindful from five days ago on).  Yes, last Wednesday was our first hangout in 2.75 years at their place on Matterhorn, on this side of Dyer Street, down Hondo Pass, on the right side, thank God for that….and for the happily wed couple…..I hope it doesn’t end in a nasty divorce, even though I wasn’t even invited to their wedding, okay?  I don’t want to be the reason for that divorce decree to kill all 3 of us. [I’m sorry, but I’m singing Guns ‘N’ Roses’ Paradise City, because Memorial Day, for Pete’s sake!]

Before I go and get my Facebook live reading sessions on, I’ll give you the reason behind the name of today’s edition, which will be written in, say, two to five parts, depending on how much housework is in store for me:  Even though I was born in 1992, on Thursday, April 30, 1.5 months premature [Yes, I’d still be older than my other friend, Dillon Fields, by one month and three days, had I stayed until that day to be birthed], at 6:04 in the morning MST/7:04 in the morning MDT [like, what was I thinking when I got coerced by public schooling to get up at 5 in the morning?!], I have a very sharp mind on what songs were up in the 50s on up.  Grandma played those tunes sometimes, and it still feels like the fifties-eighties were yesterday to me.  And, yes, I still remember that CSI + CSI:  Miami had different songs by The Who as their own theme songs, thanks to CBS giving The Who permission to use them in the proper respect with which each show is associated.  I still got it, esp. after all these years.  And, also, I associate other factors with classic TV shows, like the Korean War is M*A*S*H, for example.  [Alan Alda, aka, Benjamin Franklin “Hawkeye” Pierce, is still adorable, even as an old man].  The Fast and the Furious was another 50s film before the shit became a huge badass franchise for the past 1.7 decades.  [Ya don’t believe me?  Please look up The Fast and The Furious 1950s; thank me later.]

This is just the beginning of the blog posts coming up today.  I’ll be writing later on this morning, once I’m refreshed from napping.

-Rosé Smith.

♥ Sunrise, Sunset, + Starlight Saturday: The 04.15.2017 Edition, aka: The Intelligence, Reawoken Edition ♥

Published April 15, 2017 by swanielwolfambrosia2010

Resist much, obey little…  -Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 150th Anniversary Edition (Signet Classics)

Brothers + Sisters:

When I was writing this, my neighbor, a sixty-nine-year-old Vietnam War veteran named George Paul Arthur Hibbard, hit me up for groceries.  I went to his apartment, from where I have the utility dresser in my bedroom, when my uncle, Thomas Wayne Kenerson, helped me clean my room (right now, he’s not angry with me, but with my own mother, whose self-entitlement led her to borrowing my cell phone, because she’s responsible for paying him forty-five dollars, three of which had already been paid for; he doesn’t blame me for trying to be more like the most organized woman in America than my own mother, anyway.  Even though I don’t like him due to the fear of having an emptied out room + replacing everything in my possession [which will take me years of employment to do], I love him with the likes of respect, nevertheless) over a month ago.  I’m just betting my government phone is out of minutes, due to my mother’s extravagant paranoia + excessive spending on herself.  It took me more than 3 hours to come back from the store and from George’s apartment to start from scratch all over again.  Well, anyway…

As I’m listening to Depeche Mode: DNA from Slacker Radio via my government phone, sipping a can of Diet Dr. Pepper Cherry, my dog, Otis James William Smith, is sleeping on my bed by my side, having a perfect night before tomorrow’s church sermon….I doubt I’ll have my MetroPCS phone with me.  What the goddamn motherfucking hell gives, really?  Life may not be fair, but fuck all the negativity.

This week, on the bright side, was filled with excitement + a strikingly attraction to the Deluxe Edition live-action Beauty of the Beast soundtrack due to the need for something more than just explicit lyrics, plus the < 24 hours after it was out in stores everywhere, I picked up Alex & Eliza by Melissa De La Cruz with 2 five-dollar 2017 calendars, and 3 new movies on Wednesday afternoon, before that night’s soundtrack attraction.  Monday, I picked up 4 more books, the tenth anniversary edition American Gods by Neil Gaiman, Misery by Stephen King, Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty, + Carve the Mark by Veronica Roth.  It was fun, yes, even though I got a second-possibly final-warning from my bank to fix myself out of the financial hole I dug myself into.  There goes 3 weeks of my allowance….and my chance to have a new fighting game on my Steam account…..*sigh*  What a heavily damaged life.


Monday’s haul (left), Wednesday’s haul (middle + right).

The more I think about being broke for three whole weeks, the more stressed out I get.  I’ll find something to do while staying broke for that amount of time because my life isn’t ever worth throwing away, so I’ll be on my best composure in the meantime, with no need to self-blame.  The naked truth’s this:  the party has just ended, Ash.

What I should be doing right now is getting ready for bed in fifty-four minutes, but, the problem is, I forget my medication intake, leading to my excessive retail therapy + anxiety-induced insomnia, leading to my constant yawning, even when alone.  I’ve had failed routines since high school, and it sucks.  Now is the motherfucking time to write down the routine that is right for me and stick to it, no matter what the fuck happens.

After tonight, I’m starting my new era from scratch, and there isn’t anything or anyone to stop me from making myself the best beauty ever.

I’m going to stay up all night because oversleeping is not an option this time.  I’m going to take this opportunity to adjust to life as an actual adult.  Why didn’t I grow up seven years ago, man?  Fuck that; I don’t want to know the answer; just forget it.

I need to realize that self-care is not only eating healthy, but is also forcing myself to get my ass up and shower, wash my face, brush my teeth, wear decent clothing, and just feel the flow, despite the depression, while distracting myself with a future with my boyfriend, James, in his hometown of Oklahoma City, living a perfectly imperfect happily forever after, with humility.  In reality, I can’t stand societal expectations because they’re every villain in every goddamn book I’ll be reading, so why expect the unexpected on the right track?  The answer is simple:  I expect nothing on a daily basis.  I don’t ever have fucking time for fuckery, nor will I ever.  I’m so bored right now.

Either I will or won’t write tomorrow’s blog after church, so I shouldn’t worry about that at all.  I need to add the written tracks to the double header Daily Soundtrack for yesterday + today because I’m a bad bitch with intelligence like no motherfucking other.  If my autism isn’t taken seriously as a benediction, then the problem is the haters’, not mine….and fuck all the narcissist motherfucking assholes, too, for they’re nothing at all but Trump’s shittily brainwashed slaves.  Time for my Adam Levine fringe wrap, thank You, Jesus, because, frankly without You, I would be eternally lost in the sinful path, eternally cursed.

I’m going to get my room cleaned and reorganized before my uncle comes in here throwing my new books and shit out of my room.  You may think I don’t even care, but, the truth is, I get anxious + scared of living without any books or shit whatsoever, making me care about my health + shit.  It’s important to keep my room clean, much more so than watching depressing news from Cheeto the Dumbass + his Veep, Pennywise the Prostitute (fuck them), in other prolific, explicit words.  But, before I start, I have the following final words to say:

First of all:  Since I’m going to be penniless for 3 weeks (without a fucking choice, really), I’ve decided to 1 up my QuizUp skills, starting sometime after I finish picking up after myself to make sure nobody gets me arrested for shit I don’t need to be doing to people, any goddamn way.  Yes, my second Facebook alias, Lancelot Rose Vinci, has an Instagram, (@lelancelotdavinci is my handle, by the way, so look me up, please!) finally!  I’m sorry for not passing the message to you earlier, but, I’m so excited to see that my boyfriend is following me on 3 out of 4 Instagram profiles.  Now that is a huge leap of faith to have accomplished honorably, to be honest.  (@therealashleyangelmorgan [formerly @pikalover2010], @phoenixjeangraydixon, and @theroseashleymorgan are my other three IGs, so please, help yourselves to my badassery in pictures).

Second:  The man in my featured blog photographs is James William Smith, my boyfriend.  His rebellious immaturity is just so illuminating; I hope to visit him either this or next July, once I make the right arrangements.  It’s only a matter of saving money in the meantime between those summers.  When I daydream of him, things get so mindlessly unfinished, as a result of my daydreaming of our future together, but only time and actions will tell if done right enough to stand the test of time, and that’s all I want in life.  His skateboarding is Jackass-influenced.  He is so the perfect rare purple diamond in the rough.  Yes, purple is his favorite color.  He’s so the most beautiful, dreamiest man I’ve ever fallen in love with, respectfully.

Last, but never least:  My bullet journaling for today was more than expected in the past few days out of this week.  Question:  is that progress?  My pensmanship and creativity will be the judge in the nearest future.  I need another 152 Crayola crayons in the second week of May.  That way, I won’t ever lose another crayon again.  It sucks to lose one crayon, but never being able to find it….that’s worse than being hungry from not eating all fucking day, for fuck’s sake, so….

That’s it for today, folks.  I’ll write one early morning post to tell you about my adventures in The Daily Soundtrack, which will have to contain Praise + Worship songs, mainly (you never know, really; neither do I) from playing Spotify on my laptop, and Pandora on my phone before and after the Resurrection sermon, at Destiny Christian Family Center, a nondenominational church.  I love those and the Presbyterian churches because they’re more fun than skirts, ya heard!  Sorry, just got so excited about my graveyard shift, working on Daily Soundtracks, recording audio/visuals of my reading Insomnia by Stephen King, bullet journaling on everything I need to do this coming week, starting tomorrow, His Resurrection.  I’ll be seeing you at midnight tomorrow…if, that is, I’m up at that time; I love you all!


Me, Myself, + Music Monday: 11/28/2016 Edition, aka: The Writer, The Gangsta, + The War of the Chores Edition

Published November 28, 2016 by swanielwolfambrosia2010

The photo collage is from Stephen King’s Twitter page, while the song on repeat is from a 2006 gangster rap album, from my Google Play Music department.  Post no. 89 will be written while I await Episode 67 of Epic Rap Battles of History.


I’ve been running around the Northeast area like a zombified chicken with no head all day.  But, now that the running is over (…for now), I’m back at the blog again with some new shit to share from my closet office.  Here goes.

I went to the clinic, picked up my weekly allowance of $50, which was supposed to be spent on 4 Harry Potter movies on DVD at Walgreens after depositing, but here’s what I spent it all on instead:

  • $24 for taking my mom’s Samsung Digital Camera out of the pawn shop
  • $7 for 2 light bulbs for my dolphin lamp, given to me from George, my boss/neighbor
  • $6 for 5 ninety-nine-cent cans Rockstar Pure Zero Mango Orange Passionfruit
  • $12 for 2 music CDs, 5 standup comedy specials, 5 movies, another TV series, and 2 TV shows in the pilot season

Once my mom gives me back my $24, I’m going to Walgreens later on this week with my intention on buying Harry Potters 4 & 5 on DVD for a reasonable price.  Then, next Monday, I’ll be at Walgreens with the intention on buying Harry Potters 6-8, as well, right after paying my cell phone bill on the way there from depositing my $111 into my card.  Nothing said or done can bullshit me from my intentions on getting every last Harry Potter DVD movie, since I already got all 8 books and 3 out of the 8 movies.  When will people fucking learn that, other than bills and rent, my money is motherfucking mine to spend, and mine alone?!  I know they ain’t ever going to fucking learn, period.  People know who I’m talking about.

Have you noticed how my own shit gets delayed later and later than my intentional plans?  People + Choreville are the very fucking reasons why my own shit either gets done later or it never gets done at all, but always delayed like a motherfucker!  Now do you see why I keep my evil tamed?  Now do you see why I can’t be so fucking evil?  Now do you see why that quiet evil, once out, isn’t worth the jail nor the lesbianism I fear worst of any fear in the world?  Blame the demanding motherfuckers who ask way too much.

Now that’s what I call a fucking rant, for real!  Now, all I said before my rant even appeared was that I intend on going to, and buying, every last Harry Potter movie at, Walgreens.  However, I didn’t expect the rant to be out in such interrogative fashion….like Mariska Hartigay/Olivia Benson getting at a retarded motherfucker’s throat, raw and rogue, with serious evil in her eyes.  Holy motherfucking shit.

Anyway, after this gets posted (sorry for my evil in advance), I’ll try my recordings again, this time, with more disciplined clarity.  I will see you all at pre-sunrise.


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