monica-meter, rehung....

but i promise, i still haven't bugged the place in secret! after all, what fun's a stalker if you can't feel the LURKING? no siree, not here in this blog....you all are free to stalk me anytime, and leave your "number" like so many doggies on this here hydrant. woof.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

the update

hi there, anybody out there....
i've given up internet writing for the most part because it leaves a trail, which gets used against me by insecure overly-interpretive well-wishers...hahah
plus i've been busy doing other, less-solitary things....hey. you've seen those prison flicks: somebody drops the soap and it's all downhill from there.....
what? you havent??
get your ass outta here and come back when you've seen a respectable amount of internet porn.
for extra credit, you may define the following verbs: snowball, felch, shrimp....and tell me how you toss a salad

Posted by the Latvian House-Slave at 1:01 PM

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Neath the Bridge

Neath the Bridge
this photo's my favorite--isn't it sorta....what's the word?

at the old Coal and Coke plant

at the old Coal and Coke plant
yep, it was here once.


Yggdrasyl"s fallen minion

Yggdrasyl"s fallen minion
Mother Nature trumps tree-god....no one trumps Big MA nature.

for the curious: your Faithful Bloggist.

My photo
worcester, MA, United States
i'm married with two daughters(one and two years old). i divide my time between clinton and worcester, where i go to school....which is like a vacation, really, comparatively speaking....my husband works two jobs and i spend most of my time alone with the progeny and my 3 cheeky pet rabbits. they all love to give me crap. i'm sick of administrators and coldhearted, soul-sucking bureaucracy. we are all a bunch of humans, stuck on this same planet, got it? oh, and i'm a recovering addict who lived on the streets of boston and never went to high school--those were "fast times" but it's been awhile. the fun may end, but the social discomfort, pathological motivational behaviors and crippled interpersonal relationships are gifts that keep on giving! not to mention the social stigma accorded a person with my history. i'm a damn smart, hardworking, decent human being who gets treated like ignorant, lazy scum anytime i'm remotely honest about my past....or even worse, treated like a bomb which may detonate at any moment--that wincingly careful handling kills me.