Annihilate This Week

Uh...which way to the beach?

I'm a smokin' and drinkin' thing
You're a regular social machine 
I'm a smokin' and drinkin' thing
You're a radical partyin' machine 


Annihilating this week 
Screwing everything that you meet 
She thinks she's feeling better 
But her conscience won't let her 


Your thoughts temporarily deceived 
But your virginity can't be retrieved 
You never had it before 
And now you can't close the door 


Annihilate. Annihilate. All week long. 
Annihilate. Annihilate. All week long.


~ Black Flag




Ah, shit. I’ve gone and done it.

M said I would, but I laughed it off, and told him I most certainly would NOT.

Fuck!

Fuck fuck fuck!

When I first stumbled face first into my punk faze, M predicted that I would go apeshit bananas over the former lead singer of Black Flag, Henry Rollins.

“I will NOT,” I retorted hotly, without any actual clue who Henry Rollins was.

He scoffed. And so, in my never-ending quest to prove myself to always be RIGHT, I simply refused to look up/come across/ in any way acknowledge the existence of any such person. Ergo, I could not go apeshit bananas over him.

Ergo, I WAS RIGHT. Right?

Right.

But this weekend has royally sucked ass, what with being stuck alone in the mountains with no car and no means of self-flagellation, and eventually, boredom drove me at length to flirt with temptation.

I...I...I googled Henry Rollins.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Bloody hell!

M was right.

Now, then. NOW, THEN. M’s hypothesis is that I have a type that I am attracted to - he believes I like good looking men who are physically very fit. Basically, I take this to mean that I judge people’s worth on their appearance alone.

In M’s defense, this is a pretty fair assessment, considering I’ve been hospitalized for anorexia twice this year (whoooops-a-dilly). Who wouldn’t assume that that would be how I judge people’s worth?

However, in MY defense, I would just like to say...the people that drive me apeshit bananas are the people that are special, that have something unique to share; they write well, or they create great music, or they make beautiful art into tattoos that no one else can come close to making, or they play upright bass like a fucking God, or SOMETHING that makes them  SPECIAL, that makes them THEM. Those are the types of things that make my panties fall off and send me to the backseat of my car for some ‘alone time’. Not just their bodies, not just their looks. ********

The whole anorexia-rules-looks-matter-most thing only applies to me, because, so far, I haven’t been able to find anything special about myself. So if I’m not attractive, there isn't really any other reason for you to want to be around me.

Now, this is not a plea for you all to tell me how fucking special I am, so don’t you fucking DARE. That is NOT WHAT I WANT. I will vomit all over you. Heh heh.  I just hate the thought of the people I love wondering if I might be thinking these things about them. I’m NOT. It just applies to me, cuz I haven’t anything else to bring to the table.

Jesus Fucking CHRIST.

This post is SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT HENRY FUCKING ROLLINS!!!

He’s alright, I guess. If you like that sort of thing.

Which I DO.

But only cuz he’s funny, and has a lot of tattoos. I swear. ********

JUST LIKE MY UBER SEXY BF M!

******** Tattoos are an automatic deal-breaker. You could be a fucking cyclops, but if you have full sleeves, I’ll still wink at ya. Since you keep winking at me.

Watch this video! It’s short and funny, just like me! Except I’m quite tall. And rather bitchy, actually.

Just watch it.

Sorry bout the fucking countdown, I dunno....