So. I've got a poem in my head. So, I'm going to post it here, and get it stuck in all of yours. Yes, I know I leave the poetry to Woodruff (And I do so for a reason, he's excellent).
Feel free to leave me some poetry, I'm in a mood. I want to drink shitty coffee while wearing a beret and smoking a cigarette and wearing black.
Ok ok. How bout listening to music, drinking some beer, with my hair in a ponytail?

We Real Cool
by Gwendolyn Brooks
The pool players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

Now you all know my favorite poem. Second only to the ones Chris used to have on his site about me.
Later folks!

Heh. I'm in a random mood. Thus, I'm giving you a random list inspired by The Time Killer.

Here's the last 11 songs from my media player:
Tripping Billies (live)-Dave Matthews Band
Hats Off To Larry-Me First & The Gimmie Gimmies
Megalomaniac-Incubus
Gwendoylon B Sings Sin-Lucky Boys Confusion
Stranger Inside-Shinedown
Until The Day I Die-Story of the Year
Stinkfist-Tool
Go To Hell (live)-Nashville Pussy
My Plauge (New Abuse Mix)-Slipknot
Falling Down-40 Below Summer
Titties and Beer-Frank Zappa

Okieday. Heh. What's the last few songs YOU listened to, if you think your list is cooler than mine, the link to comment is right there.

For those of you who always said that my little blog would never get me anywhere, I want you to click on The Time Killer right now. I'm popular and you're not! The rest of you need to click that link anyway...it's a cool site, and I'm on it more than once. Why are you still here? Go. GO!

Anyway.
A whole hell of a lot has changed since my last update. The man of my dreams is now single, meaning I feel less like a horrible home breaking slut every time I think of him naked (which is a lot more than I'd like to admit). I don't know the details, all I know is that he's the cool guy who keeps this site up and running, out of the goodness of his heart. I owe him. I think everyone who reads my blog should donate to the TweekerChick and Single Man Of Her Dreams need to get plowed together fund.

The world is never going to be the same. Happy (belated) birthday to my heterolifemate. We can now legally drink in public places. Look for us when we are out and about. She's the one who talks when she drinks rum, I'm the one who's clothes fall off when I drink tequila. It was a wild night, that's for goddamn sure. 3 bar fights, 2 bad pickup lines, lots of trips to wait in line in the bathroom and lots of booze later, poor Karl had to drag our asses home. I think he might be up for some sort of award for this. My night ended watching some kid almost puke in to his own shoe. Ahh. I'm going to be sad when I'm out of college and this type of behavior is unacceptable.

Lately I've been listening to the new acoustic Godsmack album. For those of you who liked Voodoo, and Serenity, you're going to love this shit. And when you're done with that, check out Dropbox. It's some wicked good shit.

I was inspired to do some digging because of some bullshit naziesque propaganda I was accosted with at my lovely place of employment (which proudly proclaimed that god made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve). And I found this. Read some of them. Us Pagans are putting glass and razors and drugs in to Halloween Candy, Dungeons and Dragons is a surefire way in to Hell, Evolution is full of holes, and AIDS was Suzy's punishment from God.
Some of them are utterly hilarious. Well, they were until I realized that this guy wasn't kidding. They even proudly compare what they do to the workings of the Communist Party. And we wonder why the world is so fucked up. Can we find the guy who writes these and get him on something, already? Either that or get him a cheap whore, some good pot and a bottle of Jager? Now, I think This Guy has the right idea.

Heh. That's it for today's post, ladies and gentleman. Unless I didn't give you enough to play with for the day. In which case, this ought to keep you busy while us Pagans go to destroy humanity. Enjoy!

I know I know. It's been awhile. Did you die? Where have you been?
Bah. I haven't been having fun, let me tell you that much. I visited the parents for Easter, my dog that I've had since I've been 10 died, I'm broke, fat, sick and at the present time, just not amused.
But anyway, that's my excuse.

I'm pretty pissed off again. The other night, right before a fucking midterm, my ear drums were horribly assaulted by the sounds of about 30 shrieking females. Was Vin Diesel lost and looking for directions? Was Johnny Depp wandering down my street? Had Chris accidentally visited the wrong apartment?
I looked out the window, to see a bunch of girls lined up, screaming at the top of their lungs "WE'RE CHI...OMEGA...GAMMA...WHOOOOO!"
This continued for the good part of 45 minutes.
A) I live off campus. I pay out of my ass to do so (look at my debt and bills if you don't believe me). Thus, I don't feel like I should have to be subjected to Barbie, Skipper and 28 of their closest friends cheering down the street.
B) Seeing as I live off campus, and it was TEN THIRTY AT NIGHT THE NIGHT BEFORE A BITCHIN MIDTERM...It's a noise violation.
C) If you are so fucking stupid that you need to chant to remember what organization you are in, you have more issues than I care to lay out in my blog.
D) Every time one of you tools throws a party, I have to park literally 3 blocks away from the apartment I rent. Move your Miada out of the front of my building, or next time I'll move it for you.
I don't like sororities. You're right. But this is why. I can't even sit around in some peace and quiet in my own fucking apartment because of them. I was nice this last time. Next time, I'm calling the cops. I'll be sure to have em tell you that The Tweeker Chick sent them. Why?
Because some of us don't give a fuck if you're Chi Omega Gamma. I don't give a fuck if your the goddamn Pope. You can at least be fucking quiet about it.
One final thought from my favorite message board:
"...most people don't hate Greeks because they drink frequently. We hate them because they're snobby, elitist tools who feel the need to carve their letters into every desk in which they've ever sat."

I know it's been awhile and I apologize for that.
I've been watching Mad Mad House on SciFi, and I've come to a few conclusions.
I've decided that Art could pierce me anywhere, avocado can be nakie around me whenever he wants, and I might need to get some fashion tips from Don.
But I lose it when it comes to Fiona Horne.
This is not unjustified, nor does it come from the fact that she looks better than me naked (which I'm sure she does).
For starters, she can't decide when she started into witchcraft. One minute she's catholic-turned Satanist-turned new age fluffy bunny...the next minute she's always known that she's a witch.
Whatever.
When her music career as the lead singer for DEF FX came to a crashing halt (and not soon enough), she weaseled her way into the limelight by posing for Playboy.
Whatever.
When the band broke up, she claims a psychic told her it was in her future to become an author. Thus she did. Writing the biggest library of complete crap I've ever read. For every reason I hate Silver RavenWolf, I hate Fiona Horne. She even invented a kit for teen witches, not unlike what Silver RavenWolf produced with her Teen Witch book.
When she became the diva of Wicca/Pagan religions, I don't know. She shows up to her interviews in a Mercedes with a chauffeur, brings several outfits for a photoshoot, and her website is maintained by a cosmetics corporation.
Alright. Fine. But what really gets to me are her constant TV and radio appearances claiming that she's an atheist, and telling people how to make a simple little spell to solve their problems. Like if it was that easy I'd be pasty white and chubby.
What cinched the deal for me was the episode of Mad Mad House where she brought a group of total strangers into the circle and had them participate in a ritual none of them were familiar or comfortable with. She had them dealing with things they had no training, knowledge or experience to deal with. For starters, she wore a white spandex outfit with a pentacle cut out over her belly button. And feathers. What kind of idiot wears feathers while working with fire? And spandex is hardly appropriate ritual wear. Her behavior was unethical, reprehensible and completely sickening to me. If you don't agree with me, refer to the Mad Mad House episode where she invoked Kali. Cause invoking a goddess of death, chaos and destruction is often a good idea.
Sadly, I will continue to watch Mad Mad House, and help create the empire of complete bullshit that Fiona Horne's fortune is based on, simply because I love Avocado and Art.
But as far as Fiona is concerned?
She's a media whore, and I hate her.