mad_fer_it

........shhhhhhhhhhh......... the water man was here...

I'd say I scribble more than 95% in notebooks. Then I sit down and type it all into the computer. I occasionally mess around with the dialogue a little bit as I type it. But mostly I copy everything word for word. I get frantic and pissed when I can't find a line or a phrase I wrote. I don't wanna just put anything down. It's gotta be perfect. Like I wrote it in the notebook. Yeah. It takes a few hours of heavy thinking to get into the right mindset. It helps if it's quiet. Which it never is around here anymore. I've got a weak mind.

I didn't fall for my sister in law's sister. You rascal. hoy hoy hoy

She didn't seem to like me a whole helluva lot anyway. Didn't laugh at my jokes. Lots of awkward silence. Lots of winks and licking of lips. Tight jeans. Jungle noises and hair tossing. Oops I dropped something. Let me bend over and pick it up. Oops I dropped it again. Yep. Not too much of that kinda stuff.

I blame the new baby. With his binky and his burp cloth. And his tiny feet and hands. And his little toothless yap. And his lifeless eyes. Like a doll's eyes. Doesn't even look like he's livin'. Until he bites you. And those black eyes roll over white. And you scream because you're pretty sure he's gonna eat you. And the seas boil with blood. 'Cept he ain't gonna cook you, but eat you raw. And he'll eat your clothes. And your belt and shoes. And he'll gum any knives, harpoons, manequins, pot roasts, row boats, touch lamps, duck decoys, or pig fetuses you throw at him. All he does is sleep and eat and shit and cry and piss and eat and cry and sleep and shit and sleep and eat and cry and cry. But he's a sweet baby though.