Thursday, April 20, 2006

an alcoholic in the mist

I'm a chewy jew. I have chewy jew roots. we're not skilled in the art of alcoholism. foodism and cocaine in the 80s, sure. but not drunkards. lushing it up would negatively impact our eating time, and it could hinder our ability to wield the kind of guilt that took thousands of years to cultivate.

thank god, I have irish catholic best friends and close friends. otherwise, I would be a complete moron when it comes to alcoholism 101. as one of my best friends, also named, katie, said,

"missy, let me give you the 411. pink elephant in the room. nobody ever discusses it. it's totally ignored. it's all about denial."

so, I have this alcoholic in the mist. she's no joke when it comes to drinking. when she gets liquored up, hell hath no fury. she's so vicious. her dark side is in full affect. she's so inappropriate, it's not funny.

I was talking about it with my sister tonight. sort of a brainstorm session if you will.

like, ok, we acknowledge there is an alcoholic in the room. what next? if we do an intervention, should we cater it or cook? or is food not allowed at these functions? do we discuss it with others or do we keep it a dirty little secret?

oh, that's funny, schwartz. like I HAVEN'T beaten the subject to death with everyone close to me.

not sure I will talk about it with the source and infected parties (I do mean infected, not affected).

it's kind of funny and ironic in a, this-is-so-cliché-do-we-really-want-to-deal-with-this, kind of way?!

food addiction is so much more colorful.

famous baby names

suri and moses. talk about jacked names.

let's discuss.

suri. please. she's a fucking red dot nosh. a scientologist freak show. hi. quiet birth. if I ever get knocked up, I'll be the one on an oxycontin drip, screaming at the top of my lungs and cursing everyone out. because it's the right thing to do.

moses. that is so fucking green card gardener and I'm a jew. why not just name him, friendless-cheap-bastard!

south beach diet

I started the south beach diet and abandoned weight watchers. doctors orders. whatever. it's not bad, it's just reprehensibly dull. hi. do you see onion rings on south beach? exactly. it's so healthy, it's like a fucking colon fantasy.

hate is underrated

I don't want to clean my house because it cuts into my 'hate time'. I have allocated a certain amount of hours in the day to experience great disdain, loathing for self and others, bitterness and burning frustration.

those people who say, 'you attract what you put out.'

go fuck yaself.

talk about utter bullshit. regardless of how positive or proactive or whatever the fuck goodness you exude, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference.

no matter how much you love something or someone, it doesn't mean it's going to come to fruition. or that wanting something enough manifests it either.

right now, I hate. I hate. I hate. that is what I feel. that is where I am at.


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