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109 In the Sky

This afternoon, I surprised my mom by walking out of my room in my current clothes. As I rounded the corner in my bleach blonde wig, mini skirt, and bikini top, my mother just stared at me with brief horror and curiosity.
"Allow me to explain, Mom. You see, it's 109 degrees outside. It hasn't rained in three weeks, we live in the mid-west, and every other town in this county is getting thunderstorms. If nature didn't want to see me in a bikini top, it shouldn't have withheld water."
"What's with the wig, then", she asked.
"Let's not get into that."

COME AT ME, LANNA!

This is a horrible picture of me, but I wanted to take a moment to document the fact that my best friend left her stuff at my house. I'm kind of a bitch, so I decided to wear it and post it on facebook to piss her off. She never lets me wear these two things, and she stole my black skirt, so I'm enjoying my time with her Nirvana sweater and pajama pants.

If Life Isn't Just A Joke, Then Why Are You Laughing So Hard?

In my family, we all have our own little talents that we excel in. My mother cooks, my eldest brother's the smart one, my sister was the artist, and my little brother is destined to be a musician. I'm not really sure what my talent is, but I'm pretty good at being a jackass. I make jokes about everything because it's how I deal with shit, but nobody ever gets them. If I do have an actual talent, it's probably taking care of people when they're sick. I actually enjoy that, and I'm very good at it.

99 Bottles of Pills On the Wall

For the past year, I've been asking my friends to save all their pill bottle; in this time, I've collected about fifty or sixty. What comes next is the fun part, my art project.
What I plan to do is crush all the pill bottles and incorporate them in to a picture. This being said, I need to buy black poster board, clear glittery nail polish, and a hot glue gun, because I'm going to be gluing these shards into the image of Jupiter. My best friend is going to help me crush these, and I'm going to sing Drops of Jupiter every time she gets some in her hair.

Kim's Turn.

Right now, I'm extremely happy with myself. I just broke a string, restrung and tuned my guitar by myself. I'm wearing clothes that make me look like I'm straight out of the 70's, a Back To The Future marathon is on, my makeup's lovely, and my hair looks perfect. All of this adds to my shoes coming in today, my feeling certain with the direction my life is going, AND Leanna and I writing a legitimate song. There's no better metaphor than the calluses forming on my finger tips to express that I'm slowly becoming the person I've always wanted to be.
I've never been this happy with my life.

I'm Done.

Took like, two days to make.
It's not hung evenly, but whatever. I spent an hour trying to get it right, and this was the best I could do.

Keep Calm And Lie To Your Mom

"If your room isn't clean by Saturday, you're not participating in Nathan's party" < One of my mom's pathetic attempts to punish me. About two minutes earlier, she sent my brother out to get ice cream so that they could rub it in my face that they got rewarded for cleaning the garage; never mind the two gallons in the freezer, which I have full access to. Anyway, I don't even want to go to the party. Half the people that will be there don't like me, and I'm avoiding the other half. So, I do this:
*flaps jaw in mocking way*
"What was that?"
Huh? *looks at little brother*
"What did you just do

I've Got Blisters On My Fingers

Literally. I went outside with my guitar and played music from my cell phone. I do this a lot, because it helps me pick up what's being played. Suddenly, All The Small Things came on, and I started jamming to it. I realized that what I was playing was actually right, so I turned the music off and started practicing. My fingers are ridiculously sore now, and I have this huge ass blister on my right thumb from strumming so quickly.But I realized something.
I don't need someone to teach me how they think I'm supposed to play. I can do it my own damn self, without knowing chords.

Killjoys: A How-To For Being Sensible.

So, you want to be a Killjoy? It's going to take an awful lot of practice. Are you ready? Well, let's find out, shall we?
1) Names. Don't choose a name that sucks, like Cyanide Tree. Choose something that sounds meaningful.
2) You're going to be in the fucking DESERT! You don't want stilettos and leather pants- you want thin shorts and lightweight sneakers.
3) Wear a belt. You won't have many chances to get new pants, and you'll probably lose a few pounds out there. Also, hide your face at all times.
Not bad, but let's face it- that was easy. Why don't we take this to the next level?

Cray Cray Diomond

I spent the last hour measuring and cutting the pages of National Geographic, to form perfectly proportional letters. So far, I just have S-H-I-N-E, but when I'm done they'll spell out "SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND". My plan is to hang them on my bedroom wall, above the door frame. This will probably take a couple of days to complete, but it's going to look amazing when it's finished.

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