Sunday, November 05, 2006

Nine 24

I was lacking lexipro in 4- 5/98. I was really down (natch) and i had no direction (double natch). With that aside; I used to buy these B-Day cards for people which had this amazing fat black woman on the cover posing as each star sign. Libra (the scales) had her wearing this gold lame bra, kind of representing the scales. They were kinda funny and each recipriant would state, "You send the best cards mickey". Inside it would give you your horoscope for the coming year in 'ghetto speak.' Future: "get yo hand offa my ass." They also listed famous people born on your birthday. I had always been enamered of these things, because I would like to think that when/if a famous person died on my birthday and in my year, they might have possibly been transported into the screaming child born @ The Public Health Hospital located in Staten Island.
My birth date has very few notables. Yet, when Phil Hartman come into the public eye, he joined the crowd and I was glad. I absolutely loved that guy. It's kinda like feeling, you are part of the company you keep. I am constantly reminded of this phrase I heard (or remembered) about 12 years ago. Do you wanna see yourself? Look at the friends you keep.
I dropped a lot of baggage after that. So much in fact, that I had no one to party with. I was left with Joyce, Donna, Carol and Brian(fucking loser cock sucker sychophant). Ahem. Did i just say something?
Linda McCartney died. She was a 9/24 b-day, yet I never had a connection to her. The whole 'vegan' thing and her socialite status (Eastman/Kodak), besides; I never got into the Beatles. And then Phil Hartman got killed by his druggie wife. All good things come in three's right? I thought this would be the right time to 'check out.' So to speak.
It's kinda always on my mind. A speedball would be cool, but who want's that stigma attatched. Wrist slicing...not succesful, like a fine rump roast, you have to slice against the grain.
Hanging? I'm peaking at 192, is there a pipe duct around to hold me?
I've been facinated by the engine running in the garage way. Kinda peaceful. Non exsistant. Ever since i saw that movie with Molly Ringwald and her boyfriend. Thing is, now that I finally own a car, I have this freaking open air garage.
Obviously, i'm still here. For better or worse.

2 comments:

Bart said...

Don't end it, I would be devastated, plus I'd never know and think you just stopped blogging...

Tesa said...

Yeah, you can't check yourself out. I'd miss your blogs and you, too! Plus, we have a lot in common:

I like Aimee Mann, you like Aimee Mann;

You love unusual noses, I have an unusual nose. :P

You love Chris Meloni's nose, I love all of Chris Meloni :> (Hey, did I tell you that I once saw him in person? If you off yourself, you'll never know my story about being just 4 feet away from his nose. Nyah, nyah!) :P

You live in New York, I've lived in New York 8 times, for 5-10 days each time (most people would call it "vacation," I call it living there.) :P

You're a gay man, I'm a straight woman.

You can cook; I can eat. :)

You like my photography, I like my photography. :)

See? So the next time you think about offin' yourself, remember that I'll kick your ass if you do. :P