I don't know about Obama anymore.  He seems to make a lot of promises that would only work in an idealistic world...but then again, that's how most politicians are.  And he's extremely moderate...unlike how his campaign AND the Republican campaign made him out to be.

Of all the Beatles I have to say
That Lennon is still my fave to this day
There is just something about his entire swagger
That makes me wanna have a threesome with him and Mick Jagger

Perhaps it's his soul expressed through his songwriting
That keeps my curiosity of his life unterminating
Adding his sex appeal to the mix
Transforms me into a total minx

Not saying I wasn't a minx in the first place
But John just added the seam to my lace
I wanna take him to a secluded high hill
That overlooks the night city skyline spill

Then I'll unbutton his shirt one by one
And bite his lip until I hear a loud moan
Soon we'll be going at it in a '65 T-bird
Not mine, not John's, but Mick's, of course!

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WHY do ALL of the poems I write ALWAYS end in sex??

And "unterminating" is probably not a word.  Whatever, fuck it.

Don't fret, Conan, you'll come back one day
As will your staff and the Max Weinberg 7, damn straight
Andy'll be at your side just like old times
And so will the Masturbating Bear, Triumph and Vomiting Kermit alright
You may not, however, be hosting the Tonight Show it seems
They did the same to Letterman, but he got the Late Show, so fuck NBC
Ever since Carson left, Leno and that rainbow peacock have been bedding each other for years
But when you get your own REAL show, wherever that may be
Your ratings through the roof, will cock-block those suckers and you will forever be freeeee

Peck, Lennon, McCartney, Depp
These are but a few of the chaps I'd like to tap
Brando and Sinatra in zebra-print tights
With striped button-downs to get it just right

Both Hepburn gals in dominatrix suits
Teaching Betty Page a lesson or two
I'm sitting still just enjoying the scene
With one leg on Mineo and the other on Dean

Pacino walks in wearing Dog Day gear
To give me a ride on his "dazzle spear"
Then Lennon comes in with a raging fit
"That's me girl, you fookin' git!"

Hah, hah, hah, I laugh in ecstasy
Because these two cute boys are fighting over me
They fight in the mud ripping off each others' clothes
So I capture the free show for Youtube in slow-mo

Three of those other bugs enter the same scene
I'm just kidding!  I meant Beatles!  You know I love you boys, geez!
Ringo and George pull John off and gather his things
Paul's over here flirting with me

Al is disgruntled in his hot and sweaty self
"So orgasmic," I tell Paul and mostly myself 
"We all need a bath anyway," I say to the ladies and gents
"Anybody care for a fabulous sexfest?"

It's just a combination of the songs "I Am the Walrus" by the Beatles and "Subterannean Homesick Blues" by Bob Dylan, which were my two favorite songs back when I was an itty-bitty nineteen year old.  Wow, have I really had an LJ for two years??

I've attended eleven different schools from kindergarten to high school because we moved around a lot.  It had its benefits and drawbacks.  Drawbacks being that it kinda fucked up my self-esteem through my formative years, but benefits being that it really broadened my mind to different kinds of people and experiences across the country and world.  I don't regret that it happened though because through the course of college, I pretty much received almost all of my self-confidence back.

 I mean, I don't like to label myself and say I'm bi-sexual when I've never been in any kind of romantic relationship in my life.  But HOT DAMN.  That is all.



It's not just her looks and body (even though she is fucking curvy as hell and has a babydoll face to go along with it).  And I've never seen an episode of Mad Men either.  I feel like such a male chauvinistic pig the way I'm objectifying her (which somewhat goes against being a feminist, but that's debatable) even though I'm a fucking heterosexual girl. 

But OMG, she is fucking hot.  And I don't even know that much about her (which is why I feel like a chauvinist pig).  Well, I'm at least proud of myself for being attracted to curvier people than stick-thin ones.  Actually, I'm attracted skinnier guys and curvier ladies.  Go figure.

I take no restraint in declaring myself a feminist.  I used to be treasurer of the feminist organization at my college for a little bit.  But I'm more concerned about promoting equal rights for women in other parts of the world where women are suppressed and treated like second-class citizens (such as the Middle East, China, Japan, various parts of Africa, etc.).

And I'm not sure how many of my friends unabashedly declare themselves as feminists.  But I'm sure that if they didn't, it's most likely due to the misconception that feminists are man-hating radical communists.  It sounds silly, but that's actually a pretty predominant stereotype and misconception that most people have about feminism.

Cross-legged on an armchair in a short plum drape
I walk up to the bar to get a little more to drink
She catches my eye in the middle of R. Kelly
Some lame asks to fuck me 'fore I knee him in the belly

I grab my leather coat as I walk in her direction
Lookin her straight in the eye as I sip my gin
I say 'hi,' she says 'hi,' we exchange the romancin

Red hair, red lips, curvy all over
Green eyes, green dress, stepping in a little closer
I pull her in to dance as the DJ keeps playin
We crunk til dawn as we're still misbehavin

She grabs my arm in one swift motion
So we take the elevator up to our final destination
Then we enter her room to finish our romancin

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Umm...the redhead is supposed to be Amy Adams.  There's a Leap Year commercial on the side of my screen.  That's where I got that red hair, green dress thing.  Or it could also be Jane Asher, either one works!  ;)

Yeah, I'm going on a Gregory Peck binge this Christmas.  Watch out!



So I made this group on facebook devoted to hot dead guys (girls too)...and famous borderline senior citizens that had their heyday decades before I was born.  And I pretty much recently spammed the group with like twenty pictures of Gregory Peck.  They didn't complain either...I mean, why would they?  It's Gregory Fucking Peck, people.

I'm passionate about humanity not fucking itself over.

I don't know, I felt like writing something Bell Jar-esque...for like no reason. Yeah.

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In one sense, the world was so beautiful and I felt like I could solve every single problem of the earth. In another, it was dark and full of doubt and sadness for being so pathetic and disgusting.

I woke up the next morning, got out of bed, went straight to the mirror and informed my reflection that she was pathetic and disgusting. After a brief pause of staring at myself, I ran back to my room, sat down in a corner and started to tremble. Trembling, not in fear, but in self-pity and anger for living so wretchedly.

Then I called Tim, told him he was a fucking douchebag and that I no longer wanted to see him. I wasn't seeing anyone named Tim, nor did I know anyone named Tim. But I called Tim anyway.

I went to work the next day three minutes late as usual and timed in. I work at a store that sells overpriced plastic jewelery for people who like to buy overpriced plastic jewelery to show off to their friends in an effort to make casual conversation soley to complain about how overpriced the necklace or ring or bracelet they're wearing was, but yet they just had to have it anyway. I once bought an overpriced ring there. But my reason moreso had to do with being an homage to my first paycheck. And I also wear the ring quite frequently to my own suprise.

But I really didn't mind going to work. It kept me preoccupied from my usual depression and suicidal thoughts. I viewed this as a positive thing.

I figured, before I'm wanted by the CIA or the KGB or the communists, I'm, for the time being, just an ordinary working girl living a pretty ordinary life (for an ordinary person). I work, I exercise regularly, I attend social events, I maintain many friends, spend time with them when able, and yet, I remind myself of what a horrible person I am to humanity and consistently try to think of creative ways to end my life. And maintaining these conflicting perspectives really wears a girl out.

Every night, however, I always have a long deep conversation with one of my teddy bears. I don't talk to him like how I talk to God, though. With God, I always find myself getting upset or angry as I speak to Him. I never feel that way with Teddy. Teddy is just a stuffed bear who is perfectly content with being a stuffed bear and having zero omnipresence over the universe. And he's much easier to relate to!

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NOT FINISHED! Of course, I say that about everything I start and never finish them. Go figure.

HAHAH...I won't even get into this.

The beach.  Def.

Depends on my mood.

Any editing software that's NOT WIndow's Movie Maker?

I only feel sexy when I'm shit-wasted.  .

Feeling beautiful is all you need.

No, I get better self-satisfaction if I do it myself, thanks.  Taking pills should only be for people whom excercise has no effect on, not peeps who are too lazy to actually do it.

No.