words of wisdom, quotes to live by.

"You can quote me on many things. This is one of them."

"Then that would make you my heinous anus."

‎"If you want to fuck someone in the ass that just shat and didn't wipe you, my friend, have a poopdickament."

"Going to the food library using someone else's EBT card. I am as classy as I am handsome."

"I think we'll have a long, fruitful relationship. With the beef jerky, that is."

"Atkins; The Scientology of diets."

"I would eat cottage cheese out of her asshole, and I don't even like cottage cheese."

"Fuck Chuck Norris. Fuck him and his Walker, Texas Ranger and creationism. Van Damme was the REAL meal deal. He had Bloodsport, Kickboxer, Double Impact, Universal Soldier, Cyborg, Hard Target, not to mention he rocked the EXTREME high pants. And, could Chuck Norris do the splits? I think not."

"Ska - The disco of punk rock."

"On a positive note, cheers to whoever or whomever invented feta cheese. It's like chewing delicious rubber."

"You just go ahead and get off on that. ha ha ha. I am such a genius."

"Tired of reading posts about your fickle relationship, your contempt for men, your ugly fucking feral kids and bible scripture. If you're going to keep posting the same things, make them about Roadhouse, or The Big Lebowski, or Satan."

"I bet her vag smells like a fish hatchery."

"Band name ; Exit Felix."

(all credit is given to the endlessly quotable Jason ....)
  

he came home.

she sat in a dirty old room, in a dirty old house, below a very tall hill ... in the middle of midwestern america.  her hair looked like a wig of rusted nails, and as it fell past her face it scratched those baby-fat cheeks.  this left her bloody and needing relief. 

she was peckish, too.  no food, no food.  the cupboards were full of cobwebs, and dead mice, but no food. she scratched her head rhythmically, while shaking a spider off of her slanted shoulder. 

it had been days, or maybe more, since she had eaten.  she lost track of time when the clocks stop ticking, and her heart stopped caring.  she rubbed her stained face with exhaustive efforts, and paced the kitchen floor.  the hunger was fierce, piercing ...

"my god ... " she thought. "i need to eat."

nobody called, and nobody came by.  she spent an eternity sprawled on the black and white checkered floor ... her jaw resting on the cool tile.  a dark brown field mouse skittered by.  she thought he looked hopeful, and laughed to herself when even the mouse couldn't find a spare crumb.

"some water ..." she thought.  so with arms full of apathy, and muscles that shook with starvation, she pushed herself into a sitting position.  she ran her fingers between her toes and dug at the top of her feet.  she felt filthy, and smudged with despair. 

she lazily looked up, and intensely stared at the silver faucet .... glistening in the sun like an oasis.  suddenly, her mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls.  she ran her tongue along the roof of her mouth.  it felt rough, like the tongue of a cat.  she curled her lip with dissatisfaction, and death-gripped the chair to assist her in standing.  she wobbled, rubbed her head, and regained focus. 

two steps forward ...
one step back ...

she stood there, nearly in tears. 

she let go of the table, her heart full of determination, her breast heaving under the pressure - and leaped towards the sink.  she felt vindication.  she felt successful.  one small triumph, at least.

after turning on the cold tap and filling a glass, she began to chug, with little regard for the pain in her stomach. she looked overjoyed ... almost smug ... and sat down in a black kitchen chair. 

she finished her water between thoughts of suicide and escape ... when he walked through the door.