Katie Schwartz

I can't sleep. I tried. I hit the pillow and laid there. nothing. sometimes I hit it and I pass out with the same gusto as an anal train pullin' dame. not tonight though. I am consumed with worry. hate that. let's get random, shall we? maybe it will put me to sleep. anna nicole's funeral. pink rhinestone casket pashmina. that's a little under-whelming, isn't it? I was hoping for something much more dramatic. britney spears. on the lam from her overly pampered malibu "rehab" so she can pop by a friend's house for... clothing? does one think about jhushing while detox'ng? if so, I wonder if this joint is truly a sober centric destination or a glorified R&R for the-too-much-money-and-too-much-time, hot mess set . maybe she met a new white trash piece of ass that she wants to gussy up for. way to stay focused on your recovery, twitney. well, peeps, I'm off to make myself horizontal again to see what happens. sweet dreams...

I called t-warn and asked the drunkard. yeah, DRUNKARD , why two accounts were showing up under my name. in the stoniest of stonery voices, he said, shit , I don't know. you don't want to pay for their cable ? hearty pot chuckle. hearty pot chuckle. hearty pot chuckle. no, I don't want to pay for their cable, shmeggeggie. put the pipe down and FOCUS, PLEASE. you are to turn off #11 and make sure that #2 STAYS ON. got it ?! bitch laughed. he couldn't stay sober for his shift? oh, who the fuck am I kidding, if I had to do customer service, could I take it fat free? hell no. french fry bender here I come!

I think one of my friendish's broke up with me today. I'm a blue jew. did I mention the guilt? oy, don't ask.

I can hear my neighbor's messages because she has a circa 1990's answering machine. it's so funny. though, I feel badly because she gets a lot of spam calls. no mens. and, I know she's cock hunting because she told me. her man broke up with her and decided to roll with a bi-girl and relo to the mountains. she's super pissed.