Drugs Are Bad

Some of my thoughts from the last 24 hours:

I should totally become the world's first African-America, female serial sniper. My goal is to get all of my exes by shooting them in just one nut. I'd also shoot a couple of random guys just so that the connection is not just on me. I won't kill anyone cause like Madea said, they give you too much time for that. But I'm seriously thinking that the thought of the no-gooders walking around with half their nutsack blown off would TOTALLY be worth serving a few consecutive attempted murder sentences. And as if to confirm that this is my destiny, while looking for a pic for the blog, I stumbled across this ^^^ pic. *purple is only my most favoritest color in the whole wide world!* It's a sign I tell ya....

For some reason I cannot stop thinking the work "Doppelganger". I don't know why, but the word pops in my head at the randomest times and I have no choice but to say it aloud whenever it happens...weird...

I realized I may take my need to know too far. Saturday as I was walking across the street on my block, a woman in a truck asked me for directions to our community center. I recognized her face and started to say 'Hey, what's up, Lu" until I remembered that she doesn't know me. In fact, the only way I know her is from doing some "investigating" on Mr. Big a few years back using the interwebs. She wouldn't know me from a can of paint. Oh what a dangerous tool this world wide web is ...smh

The Killer and I were "building" last night into this morning ( I have not slept AT ALL and I still came to work like a good little worker mule). Anywho, we were "building" and I let him in on my sniper plans. I also told him that if I live to be 80 than I'll start poisoning people around me with tainted cookies and kill my neighbors slowly or something, you know, just because. He, always the thinker, mentioned jail time and the possibility of me being raped. My response? "That makes it even better!! How else will I get young, rock hard dick as an eighty year old woman? I can go in there and smut up the joint real good for my final days. Yay! lol I love that he "gets me" and my sick ass sense of humor. But that;s probably because I get his. because he then informed me that would "most def" fuck and 80 yr old woman. Talkin' bout he'd call Hugh Hefner afterwards bragging like, "Yea, I'll be like I broke that bitch hip, son!!! When was that last time you broke a bitch hip from fucking her?!?!?!?"

We're sick, I know*

I'm thinking of changing my name to Angela and not telling anyone and just ignoring anyone that fails to call me by my new name.

I may have a death wish...I threatened to "stab the shit" out of The Killer TWICE last night/this morning. I also remember telling him (within the first two weeks of us kicking it) that he bought out a violent side of me that I didn't know I had and that I often envision myself capping him and watching his head recoil back in slow motion as a bloody tooth escaped from betwixt his lips. Last night he just mushed me and told me to shut up and grab his dick. (we laughed as I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed his dick and layed my head on his chest as we layed there and talked about how disrespectful Tupac was on his single "I Hit "em Up")

SMH

So dysfunctional....

*No 80 year old women were harmed in the writing of this blog