farrah

If I weren't so tired I would be jumping with spasmatic glee for the weekend to be here.

By Wednesday I had put in almost at 40 hours and yet, felt like I accomplished nothing until Thursday. I busted my ass and hopefully it will pay off down the road. After the game I drank with the fellas from work and ended up getting pretty shit-gunned while having a majorly intense heart to heart type of talk with my boss.

I stumbled in the door around 3 am and didn't feel guilty for calling in late to work this morning.

In my drunken haze I found my writing notebook and remembered that I do, or did, on occassion write. Here's some stuff I scribbled while sitting in a Starbucks in Vancouver sipping lattes back in November. Go on. Judge me. Just a little...

it's a terrential rain fall worse than
Regis Philbin's teeth
beating against my jacket like
an east side domestic
answered one day too late

my flow couldn't come to
town sooner but it's pulling
an Osama leaving
me susceptible to unwanted sexual
encounters with a stranger

I think he's my boyfriend
or maybe Santa
pulling a rabbit out of his sack
and wearing it like
a pregnancy mask

giving birth to a metronome
tick, tick, ticking me to
sleep on an air mattress full
of the Wolf Man's final breaths

my chest clenches tighter
than jane fonda's ass
cheeks and the sky is a brilliant shade
of beige

manhattan calls like Belinda Stronick
drunk at Maple Leaf Gardens and
if I can David Blaine my way there
I may stay for 3 whole weeks
instead of one

lucky smutty girl
I miss t.v.
I miss t.v. more than I miss sex
and I'd be willing to fuck
for an episode of
'What-not-to-wear'

i'm filled with an enthusiastic
self-hatred drug manufacturers
only dream of

I want to bite the heads off
every rubber-ducky that ever floated
and if that makes me a monster
then fine

i've grown to hate baths

baths and mustaches and rubber duckies
i'll drink Starbucks everyday

i have yet to find an
independently owned coffee-shop
that could make
better chai lattes

japanimation girls dance around
my head like I'm backstage
at a David Hasslehof concert

and i don't care what anyone says,
The Hoff is cool
even if he did piss himself at an airport

i could pick off my entire scalp
in the time it takes to
slaughter a cow in Mexico
and I've pretended to hate
marijuana long enough

Yes, that's it. There's more that I'll save for another day. In the meantime, here are some pictures from Vancouver, and another random hung over shot in honour of the headache this morning.

May it rest in peace.









Have a great weekend everyone!!!