Life Crisis

If you notice that my site won’t  be updated for some time in the next few days it’s because I’ve checked myself into a MENTAL INSTITUTE, perhaps I can meet my match while there. I’ve lose my marbles and  I need help finding them. I’m constantly beating myself up and it’s getting worse. So, I just need to be taken care of by some brain doctors (hopefully hot one’s) who can perhaps rewire my brain and end the insanity. It’s getting worse daily.  I was actually wanting to take lots of pills to end all this or something but I couldn’t do that to my mother.

My life isn’t honkey dorey and I don’t walk around pretending it is like some people do. And I ain’t taking no happy pills either, I don’t need to walk around with a permanent smile on my face as if the world is glorious and I’ve got some butt plug up my ass. I heard it eases tension.

I’m stressing myself out and we know what stress does don’t we?

IT AGES US, IT MAKES US FAT!!  It can cause illness, and we lose our hair.

You don’t wanna know what I saw in the mirror the other day, lord have mercy!!  I’m never tilting my head downwards in public, I thought PROPECIA was supposed to give me some hairy bush on my head!! Maybe it’s giving me man boobies.

I am going through a low life crisis!!  Well, it can’t be mid life cause I’m not that old.

I’ve become insane and you say "How insane are you?" and I say "So insane that I’ve made my own security system with light sensors and pots and pans. AND I LIVE IN A Shoe box WITH 5 LAMPS!!??? 

The pots and pans is a joke, the shoebox with 5 lamps isn’t.

You know, when I was pushed through that canal, it was a breach birth, they had to use those salad tongs to force me out. You see, I didn’t want come out because I knew what the world would become, or is it my world?. I was born a psychic. I’m good at predicting a lot of things before they even happen, and a lot of times I don’t follow those instincts. Sometimes they’re false alarms, those are the paranoia feelings. My paranoia has worsen over the years, well look what I’ve put myself through. 

 I’ve been isolating myself lately, perhaps post traumatic stress. I wake up a few times during the night thinking someone is there, but it’s just the ghosts . I’m also experiencing memory loss, I forgot how to spell some words and about sex.  Well, that’s what happens when alcohol is out of the equation, the slut disappears. I probably had sex with a gremln and I don’t even know it.

I am sure I criticize myself in my sleep.

I need to date a psychotherpist, because they’re the only people that understand me..or not. That and the fact I  constantly require  therapy.  Who doesn’t need therapy?.  Oh yes, those who walk around and act as if their shit don’t stink with their heads up their ass.

Well, time to go and dream and criticize myself in my sleep.  Who needs enemies when I got mysel!!

Tootles McNoodles


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