jordan

If you want to be my friend please do one of the following instead of just requesting my friendship w/o saying anything. that's creepy.
okay, here are a few options:
BUY ME SOMETHING from my wishlist. jeezuz.
buy my book.
or at least say what it is that interests you about me, whether its my ass or my work.
thank you.


me at work today:


Hahah. I just out-amped my fuggun neighbors. God how I hate thee who fuggun covers oasis songs all damnfuck afternoon. A little unplugged oasis bullshit is nothing against a surround sound system pumpim iggys search and destroy.
Your soulless dickless renditions die now.




think i'm gonna go take a walk in the rain and think about everything i've accomplished....................




Lily digs my book, and this makes me very happy. It makes me better able to cope with my dad being a psycho. It helps a lot. Ive always admired her journal entries and of course her sets. She is a rare soul in this world of artificial flavor.

I watched a rat give birth the other morning at dawn. It was happening in the caf where I work. I flicked on the lights and ka-ZaaMo, there they were, tiny little merciless survivors not yet trained on the hunt for cheese.

I dont know where they went. But I hope they got away.

I want to fuck the entire cast of The Sopranos.

What else

Im drunk. I recommend a bottle of South Australian 2 Up.

It gets you there, especially when you havent had any food all day. It speeds you there.
keep reading on if you want to check out an excerpt from my book, Everyone is Chuckers.


"Chuckers"
Disoriented, I sat down in the first available chair I saw. People were staring at us with frowns and curious wide eyes. Jack stood up, incredibly calm considering the morning chaos. Jack kept his eyes on the stops lighting up on the sign above the door. He named some stop I never heard of, saying we were to get off there.
We went to some building that looked like it could easily be toppled by even the weakest of Chicago wind. I stood outside because thats what Jack said to do as he went inside to see Tokyo Chicken.
You dont want to see Tokyo Chicken, he is the walking inspiration of zombie films, was his explanation for why I needed to wait outside. When he came back out fifteen minutes later he was smiling and the blood had been cleaned off his face. Where do you want to get breakfast? he asked, practically gloating.
We went to Melrose Diner in Boys Town. We took full advantage of the time we could spend there after we ate enough food to complete three meals each; eggs, bacon, ham and cheese sandwiches, soup, tons and tons of coffee, orange juice, coca cola, desert, more coffee. Jack rolled a cigarette and told me later we could go see Doom Generation at the Rialto. We had another cup of coffee and split.
We spent another chunk of the afternoon in Phillys, sharing a giant slice of greasy pizza. Jack made a couple of calls.
Just keep calm, after we meet with Mike we can go see the movie, Jack promised me. I didnt know we were meeting Mike. Once Mike showed up about an hour later and joined us at a booth by the gumball machine Jack handed him a bunch of money.
Okay, Mike said, satisfied once he counted the money, slipping it in his pocket. Theres some guy named Beefy that Tokyo Chicken knows from high school and says Beefy likes to play doctor and if you play with him and give him a stool sample and stuff itd be like five hundred dollars.
Jack thought it over. I wondered if he thought it didnt matter because we missed our chance at the Super 8 Disneyland deal where if we stayed there five times in one month we won a free trip to Disneyland.
Yeah, okay, Jack said, like it was no big deal. When?
Tomorrow.
Cool.
It took us a few seconds to notice Jay standing behind the booth, looking down at Mike. Jay was extremely upset, his cheeks were puffed and red and his nose kept flaring. He looked like he was either about to cry or punch someone or both.
Turn around you fat fuck, Jay told Mike. The way he said it was both fearful and angry. He hated himself for being intimidated. The passion of his anger took to his bravery. Mike turned around, completely unmoved.
Yes, Jay? he said not taking the kid seriously.
I hate you!
Easy, whats up, little tiger? Mike held his hands out innocently then he padded the leather booth for Jay to come and sit down.
Jay remained where he was. Hes in the hospital. Tears betrayed him, falling down his cheek. He angrily flicked them off with his thumb.
Mike coldly turned back around and popped a fry in his mouth before he casually asked, Who?
Kaylo, that fucker fucked him up bad!
Mike licked his thumb. I never promised him a rose garden. Mike dumped some ketchup in the red tray and ate another fry.
Gary fucked him up the ass with an insulation water pipe or some shit!
Did he use a mineral wool mat because I suggested that he use a mineral wool mat.
Then with his fists clinched and his face red hot Jay screamed, Youre an animal! and ran out of the pizza place.