Fuckology

Wake Up! All you that are harbinating! Spring is here!!!!!!  WOW! Don’t we all feel a tad more alive. Hopefully this will change my mood. Lately, I’ve been very bitchy, cranky as I bitch and complain like a grumpy old man. I should smack myself..in the ass and quit bitching on the little and big things.

I’m going on Jenny Craig, well not literally. Well not really. I’ve got no idea how I got to look pregnant, well, I do, its from stressing because stress raises a chemical in the body called cortisol which inhibits the growth of fat cells, so does lack of sleep. Speaking of sleep, ever since I rearranged my shoebox, I sleep peacefully for some reason. I used to wake up several times of the night because of the ghostly spirits, call me weird, wacked, call me what you want, as long as you call me.

It was so warm today, I went to the store wearing speedo’s and boots today, it was like walking on the boardwalk on a warm cold day.

I can’t stop sending my sister gifts for the new baby. Like if it’s mine..lol..sent diapers, food, butt cream, clothes..

 My mother was here for a few days, my grandfather is in the hospital and has been for almost 2 weeks now. My poor grandmother who I worry a lot about is all alone. I want to buy a bike and ride for 50miles or whatever the distance is from A and B.

As I dance to ‘Please don’t stop the music’, on my ellipitcal trainer, the nuts and bolts fly across the room, that’s when you know when your fat. And I visualize myself dancing to it on stage with 12 other dancers..picture it…start of song…you see me on a higher level, I make my way down a elevator, join with the dancers and go crazy to the music. Doesn’t stop there, I picture myself dancing to Britney Spears (pre 2004)…HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME.., Michael Jackson WANNA BE STARTIN SOMETHING, Justin Timberlake DONT KNOW WHICH SONG and Fred Astaire in his movies.

I used to be ok…not anymore…didn’t complain as much…unhappy, you’d think? Well, gee..someone at my age, extremely picky as I am, not getting laid, go figure the men in this city are either old wrinkled and I am sure very nice or pretty dumbfucks or pretty and fairies. IF I WANTED PUSSY I WOULD EAT ONE!! And I once did and she was on her period.

 But seriously, I need to look in the mirror and figure it all out.

I changed my number, sat there and waited for the area code to populate because 647 is all you get these days, it’s hard to come by these days. So while going through the list, for some strange reason I refer to a Chinese mythology of numerology and fuckology, I said, oh fuck it, I don’t like living by rules etc, live free and how you want to be. So, I went the opposite direction , like always, and I choose a phone number against their make belief crap, I choose it not because I’m hoping for tons of money and happiness, but because it’s damn easy to remember, it has 4 7’s in it and according to this myth, the number 7 is death and bad luck, so I got news for you sweet Chinese dolls…

NEWSFLASH! I was born with luck.. and my date of birth has 7’s in it and I’m not dead yet, so beat it!

Good Point: Don’t Ya have to be Chinese to believe this stuff? Yes and No..

Apparently the #8 is a very lucky #, I’ve read that some cracker in China bought the telephone # 8888-8888 for $250,000, what a bargain. Hey, looks like it’s working for him, he’s got the money to pay $250,000 just for a telephone #….

But I think the whole # 8 lucky charm is there for a reason, it’s because they wish they had EIGHT…8 INCHES!!

It seems that it never ends. It comes and goes, ebbs and flows. All lost than found. And I watch it take flight like an eagle in the sky.

 

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