Katie Schwartz

... how to make my links smaller?? you know, the giant white ones. it's a javascript thing that I can't figure out. come on computer muffins, help a sistah out .

tonight, spike, jenkins, tar, butch and petals are doing a stake out. that's right. at 10 pm, I'll be in santa monica with my cohorts to reclaim our goods. will keep ya's posted. I’m so excited. it's my first stake out. tar.

there is nothing more shameful then having rain pour down on you while you're driving because you can't get the sunroof closed. this is only worsened by having to plant your fat ass on a wet seat and extricating yourself only to look like you've just peed all over yourself.

totally turns me on when I watch a man I'm attracted to, typing on a laptop. sends me deranged. can barely keep my legs together.

I'm going vibrator shopping this weekend with my friend. I'm going to buy two vibrators: one named, cindy. I am a straight girl who names 90% of her vibrators chick names. I think I'll get another one for the shower named, butch. good thinkin, schwartzy. that's the spirit. I'm so forlorn. I also have severe writer's block. I suck. not as much as I'd like to, but... a girl can dream. oh, who the fuck am I kidding.

because I'm sneezing.

if I were any more in limbo right now with EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE, I would spontaneously combust. I should nickname myself, patience. not because I exercise the practice of. rather because I am forced into it.

I'm so fucking frustrated, all I want to do is eat cupcakes. i won't, but it's what I want to do; sit in front of dozens and dozens and dozens of cupcakes and fervently inhale them.

when you're at the computer store to get your laptop keyboard replaced and the clerk says: you might want to get a crumb cover for your keyboard seeing as you eat at your laptop so often. after turning 50 shades of shameful crimson, I said, what makes you think I eat at my laptop? the fucking shame of me. how nervy. I knew I was busted. Katie, you rabid whore, take it like a man. he takes out my old keyboard and shows it to me. it was stuffed, chock-a-block, teaming with everything I've ever eaten in my entire life, and topped off with ashes from when I used to smoke. no wonder my keyboard stopped working. It was full.

or is it because my grandfather felt me up when I started developing at 10?

my mother and I bought my sister her first vibrators for her bridal shower. isn't that inappropriate on every level? I got her an S&M rubber ducky. my mother got her the big orgasm in a box. on that day, my father sent me pictures of ethnic cocks espousing racial slurs with a note that said, "I'm not sure if this is appropriate to send to my children." my mother called me shortly thereafter and said, "let's go to the pleasure chest and get Kerri some racy chachkeys for the shower." that was fun. carousing the pleasure chest and the hustler store for sex toys and penis pops. maybe that's why I'm such a whack job.

it's not casino. my vet is 90% sure it's a fatty deposit. how relieved is katie?! I tend to run the gamut of emotions before a diagnosis. it's a gift.

when famous people end a relationship, we are delighted with their three stages: stage 1: omg, are we sure it's over? is this just another cliché hollywood rumor? stage 2: always feature the brave, indefatigable, and, oh what a pillar of strength that beaver is. stage 3: note: she's moving on. she's a stoic, sassy girl. look at her go. we should bronze her shit and keep it on a pedastal in our homes. bra-fucking-vo. what a woman!