Katie Schwartz

tomorrow I am going shopping for wedding clothes. ugh. I am so NOT in the mood. it's because I have challenged self-esteem at the minute. it's just not as high as it could be. I also have a fucking million things to do today, and work. I gotta work. I hate my job. it's so reprehensibly and unforgivably dull. you just don't know. I just realized that blogger has spell check. isn't that a tasty cake wrapped in a sell by date never expires, wrapper. alright... I'm going to my car now. shit. shit. shit. shit. mother fuck. shit. I know it's drenched. for the love of god. speaking of god, pat robertson was kicked off the christian counsel he's been a member of for 30-years because of his comments about Israel's ariel sharon and Venezuela's Ceaser Chavez. pat's losing it. I just can't wait until we catch him with his pants down, and his cock inside some inapropriate beaver. oh, happy day!!! I know it's coming. I can feel it.

it was an s.b.d rain. I just know it. I'm procrastinating... like my friend, write procrastinator . I do not want to deal with the car and its moisture agida this morning. (ps) writeboy has a shop, too, mousepads, t-shirts, check it out, funny ass writing-isms.

I worry that my lips might be too meaty. I never want to be that lippy chick. it fucking rained last night and nobody fucking told me! I didn't put my fucking tarp on. god, I'm so fucking mad --- I am TERRIFIED to go to the vessel. she's probably floating in her own water. omg. and mold. I am deathly allergic to mold. all I need is to drive around in a fucking allergen. fuck.fuck.mother.fuck.

he vomited again this morning. so much for trying to save a few dollars and buying him tuna on sale. gaaaaaaaaaaahd. clearly he doesn't have a budget belly. oh joy for Katie.

I think honeymoons should be called, moons of honey. I also think weddings should be called guiltings.

log onto, I blew the president and read chapter six, appealing to your randy republican ...

today when louie and I went to the pet store to score some treats. I was all hopped up on frustration and angst. big time. he asked for my signature, the clerk, you know. I signed. he said, "thank you, MRS. SCHWARTZ." I shamefully wailed, "I'm not a MRS. and I don't want to be a MRS. I don't want to get married. it's not for me. I don't have to be a MRS. to afford treats for my dog. I can do it all by myself. and I can't BELIEVE THAT YOU WOULD JUST HAVE THE AUDACITY TO CALL ME MRS." he turned red. the customer behind him; his jaw dropped. I glared at him and said, "that doesn't mean I'm a lesbian, ya know." before skulking away, I said, "let's pretend none of this happened!" I am soooooo ashamed....