Supersize Me

I need a pet. I was baby talking my cream cheese earlier. I have a beta fish named Yossarian and an African dwarf frog named Cutie Patootie Bradbury Snowball II. I'm worried about Bradbury. He's been influenced by all of the fashion rags and this SoCal lifestyle. He's become anorexic. At least he isn't bulimic. I've got nothing furry, though. I need to get some sleep and stop dreaming about zombies. At least in the last one, we were working on a cure. Or, we said we were but we were really rounding them up to kill them. Except me and my friends. And our clones. When left to my own devices, my sleep schedule flip flops. Creature of the night. I have no circadian rhythm. Always been that way. Even as a wee lass and cooing babe. (My mom would drive me in the car for awhile when I couldn't sleep. Still works.) I'll stay up for days, catch naps here and there, and then sleep 15 hours at a time. I have medicine to take, but it's odd. I can't really explain why I don't take it regularly. Some compulsion to stay up, I guess. I've been working on an art show to be. I have the stuff, but not a venue. I'm not too familiar with the art scene here. It's some weird collage/conte crayon & colored pencil stuff that incorporates sex, drugs, and religion. But in a subtly funny way, with deeper meanings and messages to take in. Works on several levels. Totally blasphemous. I really don't have a plan when I start this stuff. I just find pictures and sayings I like and juxtapose them. I like being absurd and creepy. Well, it's late. I mainly wrote this all for me. I'll try to spice the next one up. I started this blog so I could have a place to write down the weird thoughts I have everyday and never have a chance to share with anyone. They have no context. Some are rants. Keep in mind I'm a bleeding heart liberal with small mean streak. So, today's thought while I was riding home on my bike: I really hate it when fat, lazy assholes pulling out of the McDonald's drive thru in their big, white gas guzzling trucks (there are a lot of white cars here in Cali, I've noticed) stuffing a big handful of french fries in their faces while wearing their Wal-Mart race-car driver dude sunglasses aren't looking where they are going and try to run me over. At least he wasn't on the phone. Everyone should watch "SuperSize Me." I never eat at McDonald's. I'm not a real fast food person. Time to fly. My monitor is making that high pitched squeal that I REALLY hate.

Dante reserved the 9th and final circle of hell for traitors.