I think it's time to write some heavey duty porn

or at least to drool a bit over the love of my life
(whether I'll ever meet him or not)
yes, that's right.
Bo.
I finally took Satisfied Spouse's cue and joined a yahoo group
so I could download all his songs...
I.
am.
admittedly pathetic.
and soooooooooooo in love.
now I can carry Bo with me in my pocket,
wherever I go.
well, his voice, at least.
but, helll, that's why I love him.
ick.
I don't REALLY love him.
it's more like lust and admiration.
and a deep-running willingness to bear his children or STDs.
slurp.
god daaaaaaaaaamn that voice is like--
liquid sex.
ahem.
ok.

so last night I finally tricked Becky into giving me back my double disc Live Pearl jam album.
I confused her by flashing Velvet Revolver at her.
no, not by flashing a revolver at her.
no, not by flashing her.
anyway, it was a good trade.
and now my eddie is crooning to me again...

should I just go ahead and call today "Lisa moons over musicians" Day???
fuck all that.

the sun is SHINING!!!
gonna grab a couple of old towels and take the kids to the park--
dry off the slides.
and I know I should stop whining about the rain...
it IS spring, after all.

and I love everything, everyone, and every--
nah, not really.
I'm happy, not drunk.
but life is good,
and I'll try to stop moping...
two and a half more weeks,
and the clouds of doom should lift pretty nicely...

and, just to clear this up--
there will be nothing pornographic today.
The thing about this site, is that I do whatever the fuck I feel like.
and unfortunately I'm rather fickle.
and besieged by insatiable children.
it's hard to think dirty thoughts with kidlets swarming....
and swarm they do.
I guess mothers aren't supposed to have peace and quiet...
ever.
so why is that the only thing in the world that I actually WANT???

I used to dream about owning a cozy little bar in one of the small coastal towns of Maine,
like the one where I grew up.
I imagined serving a customer who looked a lot like Eddie Vedder, to me.
and mentioning this to him.
he would play it off, as if he had never heard of the man, the band.
we would talk--
he, OF COURSE, would like me.
heh.
and inevitably, after much deep soul connecting and raw, dirty sex--
he would be revealed to actually be the star.
snort.
I'm so damn predictable.
so trite.

and
today
I want to stop

just...
stop.

I want to run my fingers through my hair until my scalp bleeds.
I want to be more than I am.
I want a week alone with a computer and no distractions--
to build an adventure in my head as I experience one in my life.
I want to scream until my throat burns.
I want to suspend time and just breathe--
breathe until I fit back into the Lisa-shaped slot on the switchboard of this world.
I don't suppose there is a slot, or a way to fit into it, though...
I want to think happy thoughts until I float around the room,
like the tea party on Mary Poppins....
but I would open a window, and float across the horizon.
I wish I could drop some sunshine into a spoon, cook it up,
and inject it, eyes closed knuckles white, into my hard-to-find vein at the bend of my elbow.
I am glad I don't do drugs...
otherwise, I might do some today.
I am feeling like a blank piece of paper,
an empty mixing bowl,
a hollow....girl....
I need to be painted, filled, splattered, shaken.

I think I'll go shower now.
and head out into the world.

for some reason, this post feels chunkily down-beat.
so sorry.
have a happy thursday,
and know that I am merely wallowing in a vat of homogeny,
and I shall spike it soon.......
fuck
fuck
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
(goose)