the chronic-what?-cles of narnia!
the chronic-what?-cles of narnia!

dr. pepper and red vines equals crazy delicious!

what the hell happened to my robin williams quotes?

Gay/Not Gay
King Missile

I saw an episode of The Jerry Springer Show, and the topic was "Transvestites and the Men Who Love Them." And the guy was on with his "girlfriend," and he was saying "To me, this is a beautiful woman. She's got a perfect body, beautiful blonde hair, everything. I love her, and I love making love to her. Now I ask you, does that make me gay?" Most of the audience thought so, and so did I. But it got me thinking about what is and isn't gay.


Discussing sex with a guy is gay. Discussing sex with a women is straight. Even telling a woman "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to suck a cock," is straight.


Sports are gay, especially contact sports, unless you're the only guy on both teams, in which case it's straight.


Gyms are always gay, because afterwards, in the locker room, you're showering with guys, and that is gay.


Watching pornography alone is neutral, like eating a sandwich. It is neither straight nor gay. Watching pornos with one or more other guys in the room, no matter how many other women are also in the room, is gay. Watching porn, even gay porn, with one or more other women only is staright.


Here's an interesting one: Kissing a gay guy on the cheek, or letting him kiss you on the cheek is neutral, as long as the guy is out of the closet. Hugging and/or kissing a straight guy is gay.


See, look, I know I'm homophobic, but not about gay guys. They don't bother me at all. It's straight guys who don't know their gay... they fuck my shit right up.


Like a guy calls me up and says, "A bunch of us guys are gonna sit around in our underwear and watch the football game and drink beer and eat chips and, you know, maybe wrestle with each other, just us guys. You wanna come over?" And I'm like, "No."


Ok, you got a guy sucking your dick, even if he's dressed like a beautiful woman, even if he's got the best breast implants youv'e ever seen, even if you're saying to him "Suck it, bitch, I know you like it, you slut, you whore!" that's gay.


Conversely, if a woman straps on a dildo, and you're dressed like a woman, and you're sucking her cock, and she's saying, "You like it, don't you? You like sucking my dick you little fucking faggot," and then she rolls you over and fucks you in the ass and says "You love it you little pussy boy! You love getting fucked in the ass. I'll bet you wish I was a man! I'll bet you wish this was a real cock, you fucking faggot!" and you're getting off on this like you've never gotten off before, that's still straight.


But then, if you go off to the bar, and discuss this, or any other sexual experience with guys, that's gay.


Here's the most interesting one. Sucking a guys cock can, under certain rare cirumstances, be staright. Let's say you've gotten into a betting game with a woman, and the bet is that whoever loses has to be the other's sex slave for an entire night... you know, the kind of stuff that happens in Penthouse Forum all the time. And you lose, and the woman makes you have sex with another guy. That's not gay. I don't know exactly why, but it isn't.

Jesus is a nayzee

The only thing that I can hear anymore is "snow". And I shudder. Not because it's cold. But because, it is NOT supposed to snow before November. But it's 30 degrees in the morning and it's supposed to snow tonight. I would take tomorrow off, but that would mean leaving Jacqui alone (Ja KHAKAY!) and I do not want to do that to her. That's mean.

So, I'm driving back home from dropping dad off at work. There's a bus behind me and a bus beside me. You know how people hate driving beside semis because they can't see you, they're loud, they drive too fast, they have a major slipstream that slips right in front of your car? Well buses are the exact same, except with children, which only makes them more frightening.

Since August the 25th there has been five school shootings. E.coli is being found in lettuce, spinach, and now vegetables like carrots. North Korea successfully created a nuclear bomb...we are all gonna die.

My head nods in my hand and my elbow slips off the desk. I pretend it didn't happen but my heart is beating fast. My papers flutter to the floor and a pretty boy helps me pick them up. He smells like cotton. He has dark curly hair and thick boylashes. He smiles revealing teeth that seem to be raised on apples and milk. He says hi in a deep gravely voice and my heart goes kersplat. I smile back nervously hoping I don't look too stupid and say hi. He asks me what's with the accent. I giggle and say he has a bigger one. He calls me country cracker and I call him a Yankee. 
Every day we talk a little more. Turns out he is the most popular guy in school. Which is odd. He dresses preppy in Hollister but he is a skater. He smokes, he drinks, but is a total sweetheart with a smile to die for.
He asked me out.
I opened my mouth a few times and finally managed a "suuure".
He is the best boyfriend ever. He knows friends come first. He took me to St. Cloud to go to a coffee house where his friend was playing guitar because he hoped it would remind me of home. He brings me little things. An orange guitar pick, buys me film, always manages to bring me a moosed Caribou mocha with drizzle instead of shavings at lunch, he organized a wheel chair race and then took the winner and the loser to dinner. When I'm sick he calls and if I'm on the phone with a friend he says he'll call back later. When I said I might be moving again, he looked sad, but said if we broke up he just wanted to me be happy, but that he was going to make the best of it now. He paints with me, reads over my shoulder, and loves to wear my hats. He's trying to teach me to skateboard. He said that I will be famous someday for my writing and art. We don't need a look out when we're together, he lets me be when I just want to hang out with my friends, he wants us to go get our ears pierced again when I'm 18. He wants to stay with me for thanksgiving. He said my mom probably had a reason for sending me here. Which coming from anybody else might have made me really mad, but from him, it just sounded like truth. He doesn't say "I love you" because he doesn't want to hurt me. So as he runs down the hall to class he'll shout "I LIKE YOU!!!" and I shout "I LIKE YOU, TOO!!!" We're not rushing, we're just kids. But I think I could seriously get into this guy.

Congratulations to me! I'm editor! Wooooo!

I wake up in the middle of the night and feel a flash of light on my face. I stretch slowly under my sheets and wipe a tear drop from my cheek. I turn off my music and slide into my chair beside the window. A roll of thunder comes over me and my heart quivers. I light a cigarette and watch the smoke pour from my mouth into the air. It pools into clouds above my head. There's winks of light around my room. Things glittering, things blinking, things swaying in the damp storm breeze. I lean my head against the wall as I pull my sheet around my bare shoulders. My hair is a complete tangle as I have lost the battle to tame the beast. I peer around my room. What kind of person lives here. Me. Art on the walls, paint splattered everywhere. Notebooks piled on the floor. Books dog-eared waiting for the reader to continue. Shoes trying to sneak under the bed, fairy wings tacked to the wall like a specimen. No matter how hard I try to figure it out, there's always music coming from somewhere in my room. Always a slight fog of smoke. Always the scent of oranges and cigarettes. A to do list on every surface with only one or two things crossed off. The pictures on my wall smile at me. The friends lost and deceased. So far away. My clocks are all wrong. One says three, another says nine, and yet another says midnight. A burst of wind blows my papers over, snarls my hair into an angry twist, takes the sheet and flings it back. I sit and stare into the sky. The tree branches knock against the house. My candles are all blown out. The only light is the flashes from the sky. The only noise is my inhales, my exhales, and the thunder. As I watch the clouds I wonder who else is doing the same. Who else wakes up every night to wipe away a tear and be sure they're the same person. Does anyone else lose themselves to books to be sure that they'll be happy for at least two hundred pages. Or is it just me. Does anyone else watch themselves in the window to see how much they've changed. Or is it just me. A splatter on my nose wakes me from my revere. The rain falls smelling sweet and humid. My face smiles faintly and I watch it fall, washing the air clean. Leaving a frosty feel in the air. Letting me know soon I am free. I am not long for this life. I'll begin another soon. I close my eyes, the smile on my lips, the rain in my hair, and thunder in my heart. It's going to get much better.

George Carlin said it best about Martha Stewart . "Boy, I feel a lot safer now that she's behind bars. O. J. Simpson and Kobe Bryant are still walking around; Osama Bin Laden too, but they take the ONE woman in America willing to cook, clean, and work in the yard, and they haul her fanny off to jail."

"Let's just go in there and sit."
 "We have to buy something, otherwise it's loitering."
"Fine. We'll buy a salt packet. Excuse me miss, how much is this salt packet? 'A Penny.' Here ya go. 'Do you need anything?' Oh, no. We're gonna share."

-Andew is really weird.

I don't care what anyone says...sure Carrot Top is ugly...but he's fucking hilarious! AND HE HAS RED HAIR!!!!! And he's seriously buff...which is always a plus.

Mmmmm....Carrot Top.....

*insane giggle*

-Smoking killed my father...and raped my mother.

Smoke

-Not only is smoking bad for you it pollutes our air. And from our recent polls, air is good.

Smoke

-We fine the tobacco industry infinity billion dollars!!
     -Good work, sir! But I think that a real number would be more effective.

Smoke

-Baba Louie Baba Louie! Howard Stern's Penis!!!!

Smoke

-I'll tell you what's wrong, your smelly face!
"Mom!"
"Now, honey, your face smells fine."

Smoke

Lois is right! Children under 4 shouldn't be allowed to smoke!

Are you smoking yet?

I've decided to look into plastic surgary in Minneapolis, St. Paul, St. Cloud, and other big cities around. I want to look for probono operations. I even already have an idea for an essay already. I was watching Dr. 90210 and saw a girl getting breast reductions. She was a 30 DD. While I know that must be taxing on her back because she's smaller than me, I wear a 38 DD and have back problems. I'm tired of wearing a certain shirt and people saying "Damn, Dani!" I want to wear a tank top and people not stare at my breasts. I'm tired of Morgan pointing out to guys that I have one boob bigger than the other. I'm tired of paying $50 for a proper bra. If I can even find one big enough for me. That's step one.
Step two is my butt. I know that I joke with everyone about my butt and how flat it is. But I know that with such big breasts and such a flat butt it makes me look 20 lbs. heavier than I really am. And I'm not that heavy. I want to have a butt! I want to be able to wear jeans without a belt. I'm allergic to nickel! And that's all belt buckles are made out of. My lack of ass makes it impossible for a pair of jeans to stay put. So, I'm tired of people constantly staring at my chest, feeling my breasts, asking if I know that one is bigger than the other. I'm tired of shelling out $50 for a single bra. I'm tired of buying jeans that fall off because I have no butt. I'm tired of my jeans looking really baggy because I have no butt. 
So, I'm looking. And if I have to I'll get a freaking loan or ask the insurance people about it. Otherwise, they're going to keep paying for hospital visits for my crooked spine and allergic reactions to metal. I'll do whatever I can. I'm not trying to look beautiful or extraordinary. I just want to feel comfortable.

My heart is dying...
it hurts sooo much...


I remember the summer I became obsessed with Martin Short. I watched every movie with him in it. I pined for him. Looked up everything about him. Taped him on the Jay Leno show. Well, now I have a more serious obsession, for it is split between two men..........*sigh*

I am madly in love with Johnny Depp and Shaun White. I only discovered my love of Johnny a few days ago when I practically orgasmed when I saw him on television. And now I burn, I pine, I perish...
And Shaun White...skateboarder, snowboarder, red-head...'nuff said. *High pitched half crazed giggle*

Oh God.....................

on my to do list...
done:
#4, 5, 8, 10, 13, 19

yeeeeeeeeessssssssssssssssssssssssssssss...

I understand crushes. Why? Because I get them every 8 seconds. I have them on almost every person I know. Girls too. But the girls are more in a "why can't you be a guy" crush way. I guess they're okay to have. They kind of hurt my heart though. Like you know when you love something so much...you feel like you're about to explode? I feel that way about so many things and people. I feel that way a lot. Some might say that's "THE" love. But I disagree. Because I feel it all the time. And I know when I'm in love. It happened once. I think that might be why I'm such an angry person. My heart hurts. I love so many things. From walking barefoot on green grass to going shopping with a lot of money to seeing my family. But it seems it hurts because it always goes away. People leave. Money dwindles. Grass turns brown and fades. The hardest I've ever tried to not cry was when my family turned in one direction and I turned in another; on our way to two seperate homes. I don't know. Just right now my heart hurts. 

Okay...summer is ending. Maybe not as fast as my friend's summers, but ending surely. The corn is getting high...people are mowing their grass at 8pm...all signs of summer ending. Here's my to do list before the end of summer (which is in about 2-3 weeks for me):

1) Call and get everyone's addresses
2) Watch really old movies. 
3) Fuck #2...I'll just have a movie night for myself. I'll turn my room into a personal Dani Lounge complete with candles, Mr. Tiger, my phone, blankets (lots of pillows and blankets!!) A stack of movies, new and old, a new pack of cigarettes, cookie dough, pretzels, chicken noodle soup, and pop (I CALLED IT POP! HA!) I'll gain 15 lbs. on that night.
4) Clean my goddamn room.
5) Get to some sort of climax in my book...it's losing speed.
6) Register for school. At some point. Before school starts preferably.
7) Begin jogging longer.
8) Give myself a bedtime other than 4am.
9) Finish my painting that's taken me 2 months to do.
10) Start on graduation presents.
11) Make lists of Xmas presents (sorry, children, no bday presents this year. Just Xmas.)
12) Wash my bookbag
13) Pick out clothes for the first day of school (Hey, it's a big deal, okay?!)
14) Stop using so many parenthesis (I do it a lot.)
15) Straighten my hair at least once.
16) Get my goddamn tattoo.
17) Stop calling everyone "fool".
18) Rearrange my room one last time.
19) Clean out my desk (I have a Van Halen cd case in there with no cd...there's a lot more like that.)
20) Discover a favorite coffee place that's close to the house or school and that opens before school starts.


Not much. Can do most in one day. I'll probably do it on Friday. Except the tattoo. I wanna do that this weekend or next week...I should have enough money by then....and a CAR!!! woo!!!!

I am ashamed.




I just got a myspace. I'm telling you what it is! Not until it's cool!!!

I just realized something the other day. I was talking to Morgan and it hit me: I'm a Senior. In less than a year I will be an adult. I will be entering the world on my own.
Now I know that all I can ever talk about is getting out...being on my own, yadda yadda yadda. But as the date edges closer all I can do is feel fear creeping along the edges of my mind. Soon I will be eighteen...well okay, not soon. But in seven months I will be a legal adult. I can buy cigarettes and porn. I can get piercings. Tattoos. Whatever. And wanna know something??? I'm scared fucking shitless. I want to rewind to 6th grade when I first went to Ste. Gen and do it all over again. Do some things different. Not associate with some people and not alienate others. I want to crawl into my Mom's basement and live there forever on chicken noodle soup, diet pepsi, green peppers, Family Guy, and Pee Wee. But I know I have to get out of that talk. Or I might do it. That would be bad. In the end I have plans for as soon as I turn 18 and a little before it:

-Make art portfolio
-Apply to Art Institutes of LA, Chicago, and San Fransisco.
-Apply to Columbia Chicago
-Once I'm 18 get a tattoo to commemorate it. A secret tattoo that few will know about.
-Pierce something.
-Buy a pack of cigarettes
-Buy a Playboy
-Skip a day of school after my birthday
-Graduate
-If accepted to a college first see if Morgan was in the same. Get with Morgan! Woo!
-Buy shiza ( I know that's not how to spell it, I just like it) for dorm.
-And....I don't know what else.
-Maybe go back to MO and grab morgan and travel a bit. I still wanna go NYC!

And that's all I got for now. And if you noticed...they're not very adult things. So there.

Quand j'ai lu que sur le wiki je presque ai ri dehors fort. Oh mon Dieu, il m'a rendu si heureux. J'espère vous manque votre période, et le prochain... et ainsi de suite. Alors vous aurez un petit bébé et il n'y aura aucune question quant à à ce qu'il ressemblera. Il aura les cheveux bouclés de blonde, yeux bleus, et un jour ont des verres. La seule question sera : sera-t-elle grosse ou mince ? Ainsi à la fin, je suis heureux. Je sais comment il se sent et si vous finissez vers le haut d'enceinte il serez meilleur que n'importe quelle punition I pensait jamais à. Et si vous défi obtenez un avortement... ces des moyens vous n'êtes pas vraiment dans l'amour. Et je vous détesterai pour toujours.