Ahh...memories

My friend Paul recently started a group on Facebook called Sick Fantasy which is essentially a gross out contest. Check out my awesome officer status.

It put me into a frenzy to try and find this retarded project I conceptualized when I was vegan. It was so detailed and planned out, involving a kosher killing floor, though I never decided if the protagonist was going to be Jewish or Catholic, so the blood would either pour over a Star of David or a crucifix. I couldn't find it on my LJ (yes...LJ) as it was private and I couldn't log-in and the message board where it all began is dead and back in 2003 I had a different computer but...I did find a summation I sent Ty over Friendster in the early days of our friendship (translation, September 2003.) So much retarded shit is referenced in those messages and on my old LJ. Looking back on it I can't believe I actually graduated college. Here is the Friendster summation of my vegan porn.

"my brain is completely fried from school right now and in my continuous attempts to put off doing homework i've started conceptualizing vegan porn that involves a protaganist who is a vegan woman who can only get off if meat is somehow involved in the sexual process. it started innocently enough with the idea of her getting off when her boyfriend's roommate was cooking bacon in the other room and the smell wafted in. now, along with my friend bill's help it has evolved to include several chapters involving "skanksgiving", a pizza party, a gangbang hunting trip, and finally a blood fest on the kill floor of a slaughterhouse with the sound of bolts being fired into the brains of cattle in the background. yeah, i don't have any time on my hands, but my brain is functioning as if i have way too much time on my hands. but i'm kind of into combining the taboo of sex and the vegan taboo of meat. then again i am taking one too many sexuality classes this semester and just got finished reading a huge book on porn for one of them, so that may have something to do with it as well.

this weekend is yom kippur and like any good jew i'm going to probably get wasted instead of fasting and atoning for my sins."

I delved deep into the archives today. There is so much about the BQE and the days when my life was documented by Mark Hunter (before he became the Cobrasnake.) Almost all of it is about falling down, getting hurt, kissing boys, metal, and getting wasted. Damn...I really did used to fall down a lot. I was that girl in 4" heels who would eat shit at the bar while trying to go up to a cute boy. I still usually managed to get laid, hell I guess I was an easy target. Funny in those days I was less wise and and therefore less susceptible to emotional injury. It really is true when they say, "What you don't know can't hurt you," at least in this respect. I had no idea how sloppy I was, how I had already becaome that girl you know, the one at the party you always say you never want to be. You feel like you are doing okay as long as you aren't that girl and as long as there is a that girl you can point and laugh at.

requiem [May. 15th, 2004|12:21 am]
i got punched in the face for the first time. it was an accident. sort of. i punched the kid back and he congratulated me on having the balls to haul off and return the favor. my nose is slightly swollen along the right side. when i broke it at fifteen is was the left nasal passage that was altered. now both sides are a little fucked up (although i am assuming the discomfort derived from the swelling is only temporary) and i've succumbed to the mist of pollen that is springtime. my sense of smell is nearly absent at this point.

i rode the trains until a ways past sunrise. dawn breaking was sad and grey, putting on displays still drunk while people emerging for the working day. j train to j train to j train to l train over the bridge, deep into brooklyn, shallow into brooklyn, deep again, over to williamsburg. i woke up at 10:30 am and went to work with less than three hours of sleep.


Jesus, that was regarding the Mastadon fist fight. That's a crazy memory. In a later post I copied and pasted the symptoms of post concussive syndrome because during the battle I had my head slammed against a train car and got a concussion. That story, when told in full, is to many the craziest one I've got and I'll only air portions of my dirty laundry in blog-form. Needless to say, blind drunk and full of rage without expression, I am a hell of a lady.

bitches with stitches [Feb. 4th, 2004|07:56 pm]
ahhh! my jasione injuring karma finally got the best of me. at happy endings a boy picked me up, swung me around, and kissed me which resulted in my bashing my knee into the dj booth. i thought i was fine, but pete and lauren were thankfully more sober than i was and noticed how much i was bleeding. they talked me into going into the er and i ended up needing stitches. now my knee is all bruised and hurts like hell, plus i walk with an hilarious limp. pure sexy, right? plus denny took the worst picture of me i've ever seen with spencer.

and i thought i had already gotten out of control. i guess i was wrong.

mom: so why exactly were you out and drunk on a tuesday night?

me: umm...because i don't have class until 2:10 pm

My poor mother. Long suffering she has been with my antics. Pete was the one who inflicted the injury and the picture that Sioux Nesi took was my Friendster pic for a million years, I was so proud of my bloodshed. Goddamn.



dear bro-down [Jan. 25th, 2004|04:56 am]
take thy knife from out my back and stick it in your fucking eye

I put this in because I totally remember what that was about. Whoa...I should retrospectively punch Keith for talking shit about me in 2004. Team Fun my ass! I was dubbed Empress Brosephine by Keith as the only girl allowed membership of our crew of dudes known as Team Fun. I've always known that no matter how often dudes try to reassure you are on the same playing field as them, their language and attitude is always hindered by a female presence. But in the same right, dudes are just as gossipy as chicks and when one is talking shit about you to another, you will find out.



trash [Jan. 22nd, 2004|02:48 pm]
goddamnit. once again i arrive home the next afternoon with ripped tights and a bite mark on my neck. and my nose is running and i got in another fight (not fistfight of course, but i did pull someone back towards me by their hair and then later kicked the boy off of the booth.) i'm about to call it quits. i'm sick of people only starting conversations about clothes and haircuts with me. i do shit, i like shit, and i miss punk rock so much now even though i never left it, it just looks that way.

Ahh, here's my usual rundown after a wild night out with Ty. There is more of the same littering the pages...jesus I was a mess! That said, I am glad I didn't delete this shit, it's way better than AA. I was always equally as ready to be used and abused as I was to use and abuse.

wha? [Jan. 16th, 2004|12:05 pm]
uh oh. i pretty much remember last night, but i drank way too much and made a total ass of myself in front of my favorite transexual in the world...(who i was so very excited to meet!) and boy george was there too. however, i:

fell down in my 4" heels

hit on one boy i shouldn't have hit on

made out with chase in front of everyone, oh well, at least she's totally fucking hot as shit

i think i may have made fun of spencer to his face

double fisted gin and tonics the entire night and spilled one when i fell

ditched my friends like a total asshole

ended the night with a drunk dial to ty because my cab driver was hitting on me and it was freaking me out.

seriously. i'm glad my dad is coming today because i need the enforced break. bad news all around plus a little blacked out. it was fun as fuck though.

More of the same...this is basically what my life was for years upon years...I like how I wrote "a little blacked out" because you know, I remembered some of it!

heartburn [Oct. 4th, 2003|02:52 am]
drinking an entire bottle of manchewitz in half an hour is a bad idea. i went out all cute in my miniskirt and boots and biker mom sweater and proceeded to feel like a fucking 60 year old because the wine gave me some vicious heartburn. i just thought it would be fitting. you know, yom kippur coming up and me being a bad jew and all.

other highlights:

keren falling down.
andrea lifting up my skirt.
me grabbing andrea's boobs.
keren falling down again.
pelle taking really unflattering polaroids of me plus other kids.
lauren being incredibly cute about something.
me unsuccessfully trying to unsnap keren's bra and knocking her over in the process.
keren pulling up my skirt and holding it up and not letting go.

and more and more of the same. basically lots of boobs were grabbed and i think my skirt was lifted up a total of 6 times. well at least i was wearing thick black tights so nothing was that exposed.

tonight fun with carrie and the crown heights punk rock kids. homemade falafel and vegan cupcake decorating party plus film about the lang mobilization. i got to bitch at tucker for dismissing me based on hearsay about me apparently "becoming a total hipster" but he was prepared so it was unsucessful. it was nice to see him again, it had been 4 months at least.

andrew showed up and gave us all single shot bottles of some obscure booze that he found in the trash on his walk home. we all downed them together. my heartburn came back.

It's funny that I met most of the friends I still have at one place, the BQE. I miss it and I don't. Life is completely different now from then. One thing, I am not 21 any more, and this was before drugs came into the picture. Blow was occasional not regular. Heroin was just a whisper. But damn, that night at the BQE where Lauren and I drank Manchewitz before going out was fucking triumphant and so fun. I remember being wasted and bitching about having heartburn to everyone who would listen because I thought it was so damn funny. Lauren couldn't finish her Manchewitz so I drank hers too. It was a little less messy than the first Beacons booze cruise where I lost one of my heels and woke up with a bruise on my wrist and puke on my high-tops. Classy. I'd forgotten the part about puking on my shoes (such a regular occurrence) until I read about it in my LJ.

Ahh...memories.