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2001-03-08

crushes, family fights and ass-fucking

So many things to write about today. Well, I�ll try not to overwhelm you. I�m beginning to think that the attacks on my car are not a case of mistaken gay bashing after all. This morning, the panties were on the windshield, rather than the rearview mirror as they were last time. And this morning, they weren�t white cotton briefs, oh no. Silk. Victoria�s Secret. I think someone has a crush on me. And all this time, I thought those sentences etched in morning dew on the windshield were attempted insults aimed at a suspected lesbian. Things like, �I want to suck your clit,� and �I need to fuck you,� and �I love your pussy.� Though who knows, I could have been right the first time. It�s just interesting that my car is the only car EVER that has all this done to it. I found it amusing. I took my time this morning in removing the panties from the windshield, plenty of cars passed, plenty of pedestrians noticed. With a lazy smile, I picked them up, dangled them in front of me for a bit, laughed a bit, then flung them into the street. Whatever the reason, whatever the intent, I find it amusing.

My latte has too much milk in it. I hate milk. I won�t take it back, because this is a large, and I ordered a �latte� which has milk in it. Every sip I grimace, but damn, I want this caffeine and I want it now. It was bad enough I had to wait for everyone to stop yabbering this morning, I actually snapped at them. Buncha women, gathered around, talking about potty-training puppies, I had tried to interject several times to announce my departure, destination Coffee Bean. Finally, I just cut someone off by holding up my money, raising a brow and snapping, �I�m going now, anyone want anything?� in my most patronizingly assertive tone. Sigh, caffeine.

Last night, last night, there�s always a story about the night before, isn�t there. My evening was packed with people. First, dinner with my mother and sister. God help me. You know, I think last night was the first time I stepped back and noticed how we interact with each other, the 3 of us I mean. My sister snaps at mom every other minute, calls her names like �fart-fucker� and �shit-dick�. She says it in frustration, but as soon as it�s out of her mouth, we�re all laughing. Except for mom, she thinks it�s funny, her lip quivers from fighting back the smile, but she somehow maintains a hurt and indignant visage. When she pulled up at our place, my mother asked me how I lucked out with such a great parking space in the complex. My response? �I sucked the landlord�s dick.� I don�t know what makes me do it, want to shock her until nothing is shocking, reminds me of a Jane�s Addiction song.

We talk to my mother like most parents talk to a 4 year-old. Sometimes it�s warranted. Sometimes, as with a child, I think, if you treat them like an adult, they�ll act like an adult. But it goes both ways, as we know, �well if you�re gonna act like a child I�m gonna treat you that way!� Life takes some crazy turns when kids grow up. My father said to me the other day, �You don�t know how wonderful it is to be able to share things like literature or theatre with your children when they are finally adults and can meet you and understand you at those levels. I hope to God someday you do, because it�s the most amazing thing. Going to a show, sharing books, the talks we all have. I cherish every minute of it.�

You know, I feel guilty sometimes, guilty that I�m consistently bagging on my mother and praising my father. What sort of picture must that paint? I think. Is it fair? I wonder. I mean, does the past really justify the way I view each of them? There�s a quote I read awhile ago, it said �In matters dealing with loved ones, never bring up the past. Only deal with the current situation.� There�s so much wisdom in that. Do you notice when family members fight, it sounds something like, �That was kind of rude, I�m on the phone, could you not scream?�

�I wasn�t screaming!�

�Yes, your voice was raised, and you�re embarrassing me, both with the person on the phone and with the neighbors.�

�Well what about when you call me at work and I�m too busy to talk? That�s embarrassing!�

Okay, easy to see where we strayed here. Suddenly, rather than sticking with the present situation, maybe acknowledging the fact that she yelled, she chooses to bring up another situation to turn the focus back on the supposed attacker. Defensive mechanism. And they go in circles until they�re both exhausted. Or, in this case, until I interjected and pointed out how ridiculous their argument was becoming. Sigh, enough of that. Little bit more here.

Meditation was great. Should have focused this entry on it, but I�m not in the mood. Hung with my dad for a bit afterwards, he left this morning, out of town. There�s a good chance I won�t see him for a few months. Yes, that bothers me. After that, I stopped by a friend�s house, where I took over the conversation of 4 people and turned the subject to ass-fucking. Just to get a �rise� out of them. After laughing for a bit at their expense, I headed home. Oh, c�mon, it�s not THAT bad. They laughed too, but more out of shock and horror and nervousness than anything else. Computer geeks are fun to fuck with.

-Barbarella

previous | next

2007-05-19
NEW SITE!!!!

2007-05-16
Links and Update

2007-05-09
Two Links

2007-05-06
Yes, Even MORE new pictures

2007-05-06
Mizz Asshole

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crushes, family fights and ass-fucking 2001-03-08 14:16:56 So many things to write about today. Well, I�ll try not to overwhelm you. I�m beginning to think that the attacks on my car are not a case of mistaken gay bashing after all. This morning, the panties were on the windshield, rather than the rearview mirror as they were last time. And this morning, they weren�t white cotton briefs, oh no. Silk. Victoria�s Secret. I think someone has a crush on me. And all this time, I thought those sentences etched in morning dew on the windshield were attempted insults aimed at a suspected lesbian. Things like, �I want to suck your clit,� and �I need to fuck you,� and �I love your pussy.� Though who knows, I could have been right the first time. It�s just interesting that my car is the only car EVER that has all this done to it. I found it amusing. I took my time this morning in removing the panties from the windshield, plenty of cars passed, plenty of pedestrians noticed. With a lazy smile, I picked them up, dangled them in front of me for a bit, laughed a bit, then flung them into the street. Whatever the reason, whatever the intent, I find it amusing.

My latte has too much milk in it. I hate milk. I won�t take it back, because this is a large, and I ordered a �latte� which has milk in it. Every sip I grimace, but damn, I want this caffeine and I want it now. It was bad enough I had to wait for everyone to stop yabbering this morning, I actually snapped at them. Buncha women, gathered around, talking about potty-training puppies, I had tried to interject several times to announce my departure, destination Coffee Bean. Finally, I just cut someone off by holding up my money, raising a brow and snapping, �I�m going now, anyone want anything?� in my most patronizingly assertive tone. Sigh, caffeine.

Last night, last night, there�s always a story about the night before, isn�t there. My evening was packed with people. First, dinner with my mother and sister. God help me. You know, I think last night was the first time I stepped back and noticed how we interact with each other, the 3 of us I mean. My sister snaps at mom every other minute, calls her names like �fart-fucker� and �shit-dick�. She says it in frustration, but as soon as it�s out of her mouth, we�re all laughing. Except for mom, she thinks it�s funny, her lip quivers from fighting back the smile, but she somehow maintains a hurt and indignant visage. When she pulled up at our place, my mother asked me how I lucked out with such a great parking space in the complex. My response? �I sucked the landlord�s dick.� I don�t know what makes me do it, want to shock her until nothing is shocking, reminds me of a Jane�s Addiction song.

We talk to my mother like most parents talk to a 4 year-old. Sometimes it�s warranted. Sometimes, as with a child, I think, if you treat them like an adult, they�ll act like an adult. But it goes both ways, as we know, �well if you�re gonna act like a child I�m gonna treat you that way!� Life takes some crazy turns when kids grow up. My father said to me the other day, �You don�t know how wonderful it is to be able to share things like literature or theatre with your children when they are finally adults and can meet you and understand you at those levels. I hope to God someday you do, because it�s the most amazing thing. Going to a show, sharing books, the talks we all have. I cherish every minute of it.�

You know, I feel guilty sometimes, guilty that I�m consistently bagging on my mother and praising my father. What sort of picture must that paint? I think. Is it fair? I wonder. I mean, does the past really justify the way I view each of them? There�s a quote I read awhile ago, it said �In matters dealing with loved ones, never bring up the past. Only deal with the current situation.� There�s so much wisdom in that. Do you notice when family members fight, it sounds something like, �That was kind of rude, I�m on the phone, could you not scream?�

�I wasn�t screaming!�

�Yes, your voice was raised, and you�re embarrassing me, both with the person on the phone and with the neighbors.�

�Well what about when you call me at work and I�m too busy to talk? That�s embarrassing!�

Okay, easy to see where we strayed here. Suddenly, rather than sticking with the present situation, maybe acknowledging the fact that she yelled, she chooses to bring up another situation to turn the focus back on the supposed attacker. Defensive mechanism. And they go in circles until they�re both exhausted. Or, in this case, until I interjected and pointed out how ridiculous their argument was becoming. Sigh, enough of that. Little bit more here.

Meditation was great. Should have focused this entry on it, but I�m not in the mood. Hung with my dad for a bit afterwards, he left this morning, out of town. There�s a good chance I won�t see him for a few months. Yes, that bothers me. After that, I stopped by a friend�s house, where I took over the conversation of 4 people and turned the subject to ass-fucking. Just to get a �rise� out of them. After laughing for a bit at their expense, I headed home. Oh, c�mon, it�s not THAT bad. They laughed too, but more out of shock and horror and nervousness than anything else. Computer geeks are fun to fuck with.