i love my friends
Kelley is here, sleeping away on my futon. She rules, of course, and our visits next time cannot be so sparse. In the, 4? or 3 whatever years we have been plopping around on this site, first in chat then on our own pages, some of you guys deserve mad props for being such good friends. Some of you can also stick your heads in an oven, but for the most part, my feelings about this site are not just serene, but nostalgic. A psychotic statement at best, but sometimes I like to stick some drama in, to rile a few opponents up.
One thing I did do yesterday after work that was stupid was get completely wrecked with my trainer, and the training manager to the point that I latched my arms around the manager’s neck and had him bound down the street with my ass beaming on his back. Which was fine, until I missed my stop in New Jersey on the ferry. rode back to nyc, tried to get up and was told by my ferry boys that I missed my stop and we will wake you up. I left my fucking book in the seat in front of me, and got confused though. So now my modeling shit is a loss. At least for now anyhow. Those fuckers are like a hundred bucks a piece, so I am unhappy. Ah well, my slurring ass called Kelley, River,my trainer, and my boy to exclaim my confusion walking home. Thank you FRiday’s for those crazy ass frozen tornados.
My health is ghetto, my body poured a red tide, complete with rivers and throbs, down my legs and trailed me into the bathroom the other morning. All these blood thinners I have to take so I won’t get a stroke also contribute negatively to the body’s ability to clot and congeal that for your period. I happen to be under the opinion that it might actually be too thin, considering such symptoms are usually parallel with overdose. Today I am wearing the cutest dress with red guitars and covered wagons. I also want to chew nicorette too much. I am finally quitting. It’s no lie.
My new plan since this country has no intentions of installing any kind of nationalized health care reform is to write my story out, send it to cardiologists, cardio and abdomino-thoracic surgeons, and several other boards of people and ask them for a couple years of free funded care in exchange for guinea pig like studies. The Marfan’s syndrome people are probably the largest group of ineffective, selfish, and uncaring individuals involved in any kind of organization. They do nothing for the people who have my disease, but they certainly will take your money, pay themselves and stick the money into ‘research’. A lot less stickier of a job if you actually don’t deal with real people, and just shove the money towards people who don’t have it, to ‘study’ it.
Summer better be here. I am sick of this ghetto rainy weather, probably in line for what it’s really like to live in rainy depressed areas.
In a post-stoned condition, I tend not to make too much sense.
