it's sort of a saturday night live!

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ten / eleven / twothousandeight

[ Insert typing job here for previously mentioned hot ticket. ]

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rock on! Chryssie Hi!nes u hot hot babe!

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(have to listen to it again to get the song title and lyrics straight) If I came out, the mania will inevitably burst my protective damn and eyey'll rail at the administration with sharp toothed lazer lips.or lash out somehow inappropriately. i'm a (albeit finally reluctant) master at verbal abuse, too, unfortunately. Like I said once, you know that 24x7 job? Staying stable. Certain time fall into -not too successful at keepin the toothy pie hole shut. And once the damn is burst, it's water under the bridge. And dee-effbeeeye will take me out, like THAT, pet project {<pooph>!} cause i'm totally isolated, they'll make it look like suicide, or cancer or whatever, (this isolation has to be for all 'friends' protection. 'I stay away' (-alice in chains) for good reason. Us kids were some dipshit effbeeeye pet project probably for the boss' daughter <hey 'arlo' you stupid shit - what were you doing, making a deal with them to save your own ass over something, or were you under cover with your old dog and 'living with your mother' bullcrap - eat this s%%t garage garbage' soufle' just for you.>after superman flew the coup. That's what broke the camel's back of our break. High tolerance for pain and low self-esteem. I only knew it on an intuitive level in a total manic break after the tornado had passed through again. It was a big one at that time. Over the stupidest best stuff imaginable. But nah-nah, nah-nah, nah they can go f*(k themselves about it now. hahahahahahahhahahahahahahhahahahhahah    heh heh haaaahhh. Poofphe. fig leaf. up in smoke!  ;) smoke under the damn. 'digg'?? -incubus ;)

hold the wheel and 'drive' -incubus     right, and?

after the door turned inside guts out looking for crazee-us-me and my spouse, 'arlo' came around and eye had protected him (us-we were still married) from this s%%t head who thereforth was sent swiftly packing with his shitty tail between his legs.  then it wasn't intuition anymore, eye had poophfe proof. but it was only poophfe proof. and all eye had was women's intuition...'arlo' was no real friend, he was a 'reel' friend, expous-o.  he had hooked you and was reelin' you in. he was the sorryest effbeeye cover make-up job seen to that date. maybelline. eye wish i could proove on paper 4U, but all i got is intuition, gut feeling. not your father's fancy lawyers and inside out convolution of contacts. thanks for stealing all of my worldly possessions btw U!@#$%^&*()_+.

that and this one display of undercover doggy-doo in a slick black car parked so frigreed up angled on the hill, eye new. staring me and having a laugh-at. well, at least we got to destroy their marriage. and stick her with an alcoholic potential eggbeater with two crazy kids. they all deserve each other, crazy scrambled up. eye may be delusional sometimes but i know this human women's intuition.

and finally, the phones stopped clicking...but brains lay bleeding in the garbage' soufle'.

yeah, I was deluded that it was love, for a short while, but don't think it was anything other that what it was - a 'shotgun marriage' of convenience. I had to save the house from the commonwealth, and he had two kids needed a surrogate mum. only stayed withem cause the daughter stepped on my toe and pleaded me to. how can you say no to a little kid, regardless of the chaos, or the consequences? we were made for each other, the lovely new nut butter screwed up insta-family.

eye firgive you st. andrew, but I'll never forget. and you'll never know how sorry. eye just hope upon hope that you are happy now, you're so lucky to have your woman, and two beautiful kids. you escaped the marriage of sampson and delilah, thank god for your sanity. eye'll always love you, you jerk. and eyem sorry. i've finally forgiven you. you ready to be forgiven? eye'll never forget {insert link here to healing and forgiveness and some pepto bismol}

if this pile of a story doesn't stay free, it's not worth even thinking about a shingle.

i love 'this tunnel of love' - the boss, his merry crew and his loverly dove

Love, Leyesa

p.s. David Byrne is reminding me to Talk my Head: I heareby evilkneival the effbeeeye to bee doo-doo, off, a formula to never ever be able to hurt any GOOD PEOPLE again ON ANY LEVEL!!!!! -so be it, and so it is. tee-hee, heh, heh...yikes

now those f*&kers can't scare me any more ever again. With 'friends' like Billy Idol, you got protection. just play music and it all goes away. the little puppet. <-sp   geppetta ... pinocchia. blablabla shuddup the verbal diareeah already. pass the pepto. making myself sick.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& where are those crazy crayolaz? and the beloved puke bucket?