Needle Wednesday

This is a gem. It's a must see, and presently my favorite thing and keeping my head bopping through an ugly time. I have no idea what the fuck they are singing about but they are a having a really good time! I wanna have a good time too, this looks like a DM type of skipping fun! Tons of wardrobe changes, singing with an indian George Micheal, and damn if her expression looks remotely forced. These people are having fun, and I picture my so not tan ass in the thicket of them all hopping and prancing along. I desparately need to prance. I could find out they are singing about beastiality and I'd still be bopping. Plus what drew me to it was some posted a comment that at the 3:46 mark "did he seriously just headbutt her tits??"



I know some of you chose not to watch what I offer, but you really should. It's two minutes of your day. For me. And the turtles. The main girl in this is smoking hot, oh how I covet that thick dark hair. Forward march, and I better have heard the sound of mice clicking to watch the WHOLE thing. It will stick in your brain. A happy stick, nothing like a fire poker or anything.

I go to the doctor tomorrow morning. Well several of them. Each are bearing needles. It's Needle Wednesday! I won't know anything right off, other than that one needle prevented a new Morgan. The other ones will treat me much like a lab rat, or any other specimen as -hopefully- real information is found on my ills. I intend to be totally obstinent and demand a full 20 dollars copay worth. I will settle for nothing less, I plan to spout. I may even stomp a foot to prove how serious I am about the twenty dollars.

I called Mr. Morgan and let him know his broken, aging wife needed doctor money.

"How much?"
"40 bone."
"40 dollars????"
"Ya, 40 bone. American. Crisp bills."
"For what?"
"I'm sorry honey, I think I hear a baby crying can you hold on?"
"Ok ok, 40 bones."
"Crisp."
"Just...."
"American."

It's never not fun to fuck with your spouse when you can hear he is very busy at work, but too polite to simply hang up on your crisp american bone demanding ass. I'll be in touch folks.....

-DM

Shells and Wails

I've about killed the turtles. They won't eat, can't stay warm, and otherwise want to torture my mind. It's all rather more than I want to deal with, and I admit to purposely not looking their direction. I did make a video of them while alive though.



In other news I seriously need work. Please? Everyday I am hit with some form of emotional berating that any grown person should have left behind in the third grade. I was sent an email (lucky!) using the exact words "I can't believe you were going to send this inept......" and "this is totally unacceptable" Just fucking fire me already. Nothing puts a hop in ones' stride more than being told (OFTEN) how incapable of doing anything right. I am seriously tired of it and crying everyday at work is also totally unacceptable. Five years of being inept yet no firings.... hm..... scapegoat much? Please give me work, I beg!

-DM

Regurgitation

Since this IS DMorgans Zoo Revisited.... I hand picked a few older entries from this time last year. Still my theme song. I almost said I was ashamed to be fucked up as I am but then I thought of everyone I know and .... seriously who isn't on some level? Please play my theme song and read on. To get how this song applies to me, wins a cash prize, it was written for my sort, email me for the prize and why. Grin, serious.

-DM



____________

Maaaaaaan... I just got duped into buying friggin Girl Scout Cookies. $3.50 a box! Shit for that much I expected the kid to do a fucking cartwheel or otherwise entertain me.

The Morgan house does not even eat cookies. Nor do we eat ice cream, cake or anything else most people consider indulging.

We do not eat chocolate. We occassionally eat candy, but that would be Mr. Morgan, my teeth are so screwed from previous years of eating sugar in copious amounts I rarely attempt it. Yeah, I know we are freaks but the damn kid was all shy and totally fucking up her little "buy my cookies" speach. It was half endearing and I won't lie.... I let her futz around, letting her cheeks get more and more red by the minute as I stared at her with a laser gaze. I knew what she wanted, but shit, if I'm gonna blow ten bucks for a box of shitty cookies no one in my house is going to eat, well then she was going to earn it.

Her dad was also a little scary himself. I think secretly he wants to be a girl scout and is living vicariously through his kid. He made it very clear that the goal sales were 1500 boxes, and that they were at 1200. He shot a look a the girl when he said 1500 that I swear said "that's 300 more boxes or you die!" I was scared he'd picket outside our office with signs saying "These bitches hate children!" so I signed my name faster than a kid going into the bathroom with his father's playboy.

-DM
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Did I ever mention I stomped a bitch in walmart?

I did.

She needed it.

Let me explain. I have space issues.... I became physically agitated when strangers are too close to me.

Well I could feel this bitch's breath on my neck. I was cool for a bit tried to ya know.. like body shove her back.... no dice.

She was totally germy, hair lipped and being all gross behind me... eying the shit I was buying and what not. She was buying some bullshit tiny plants and fabric I think. I dont really know all I remember is that she was close enough to fuck me and I couldn't stand it. So I acted like I was reaching for something... and I stomped the hag.

I did it. I'd do it again.

She fucking howled. Holding her foot and what not. I didn't even bother to say sorry and instead greeted the cashier who... poor fuckers, I cant imagine how rude people are to them in Walmart. "Price check please... I saw it was 20 cents cheeper on the sticker in the isle." Gag... whateva!

Am I a total dick? I really feel I wasn't... though in retrospect I wish I'd have told her why she got stomped. Then maybe bitch would give a pimp some room to purchase bullsit I didnt need.

Watch out for the Walmart crazies eh? And yes, I mean myself.

-DM
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Now let's get all sentimental with pictures of past... some I posted, some I don't remember if I did or not.

These contacts were quite a contraversy in their own right and I'll repost that in the future. Let's just suffice to say that I don't care what license hangs on your wall, I WILL get my fucking way.


And not because of the above lenses, but I watched... literally through my camera as I went blind in that eye. It happened very fast. In about 48 hours it was done. I have few redeeming features to myself. I'm not entirely that nice of a person, I'm demanding, and expect nothing short of everyone around me to read my mind. Physically, I lack anything close to a decent chest, I'm chicken-legged and my nose is a bit funny on certain days. My eyes however have always saved me and drawn attention. I have blinked my way into more favors than I can count so this really sucked and I was in massive panic.

The cloud you see below is my cornea shattered. It has healed enough to look normal now (thanking my god of vanity) but I cannot see much but refractions. I am glad I took the photos, I don't know why yet but someday I will. No don't think I'm not furious. Later for that.

Breathing perfection.

And garbage theives.
And just because it's a favorite of mine.... the giraffe feedings.


I will in time repost all the things that are attached to these photos, the eye thing, and how the kid in the photo above went to war with me over who was gonna feed them first and took a faceplant courtesy of my shoe. That's right, check the line order. Rawr!

Until later...

-DM

Any Pogo of Mine!

This is a seriously lame video I made for my friend Pogo because he'd been down lately and inundated with vomiting children when he wasn't hugging the bowl himself. He is a mad Shania fan and Simon volunteered to be the Man of Mine because he well.... thinks he is. Not too far of a stretch.

So I offer this entirely retarded thing in hopes it cheers Pogo up. I'd be a dick to say "well this is what you get for fucking" but I've seen his wife and she's hot enough to turn me full lesbian, so I understand the weakness. (give it a little time to load, youtube gets increasingly tardy.)

Feel better Poges... you know the Morgan's love ya. I will meanwhile go an untangle the mop of mess I made of my hair. For once in my life I had NO props and had to improvise.



Don't feel sorry for Simon, he's totally fine and used to being manipulated and losing all masculinity to do so. He is down with it, does he look like he's struggling? He doesn't give a shit, and this is what happens when you don't beat or drop a dog, he just jives with whatever. I offer Simon tours on Sunday from 1pm to 2pm to prove this, 50 cents a person.

As a bonus repeat..... For Akorn. Lol, sorry filthy pigshit couldn't resist. (this is a relative of mine who recently became reaquainted with me, it's a joke yes, but her family has called her a stalker for it... brilliant)



I had plans for a pizza cookoff tonight, but it can wait for tomorrow.

-DM

Worm Pie

I guess I can say I'm 29 now. I'd would prefer to say it with a "this sucks" at the end. It's very easy to ignore, or blow off things that need attention when you are looking forward to something, but then when it's over you are left with nothing but "fuck, I gotta take care of this."

I am trying to keep busy today since Mr. Morgan had to work, but I have more often found myself pacing the house in a depressed funk. I need very much to always have a goal or something to work on, or I tend to get way too far into an interalized pattern of thinking that leads to no good. I've been unhappy about a lot of things of late, and with the festivities dying down they are surfacing from that corner of "not now, later" that I'd been packing them into for some time. Sure I have specific things on my mind, but even if I went to ask for help I wouldn't know where to start, and that itself is a problem. If I went to my doctor today and he asked what was wrong I'd sound lunatic with a rap sheet of concerns longer than the OJ Simpson trial transcript. I suppose one always just hopes their ails will suddenly go away.

Birthdays went ok. I've always said that the present take on a holiday, or birthday is a good indication of your behavior that year of if people like you. I must assume I'm permanently off the nice list, as the loot was more than dismal. My sister didn't even call, simply sent an e-card and my mother managed to drag her ass to the phone around 4pm or so. Maybe that's it, pity party for myself. Nobody likes me, going to the garden eat worms!

Mr. Morgan and I went to a college basketball game, it was much fun and not terribly hampered by the fact of "We are gonna go watch UNR Wolfpack play on Saturday.......oh and (insert asshat name) and (much lesser asshat name) are coming too." Gee nothing says happy birthday to me like hanging out with his friends. Again, I'm just griping and sounding like a selfish brat.

Sound of the Pack!!!! Arrrrooooooo! (always my favorite parts to their games)




Later, after showering I emerged toweled up and find THIS in the kitchen.

"Why are you wearing my leprechaun?"
"My name was on the box."
"Only because I used your account for it, it's mine.... gimme!"

Simon also decided that while early, it was ok to don his greenwear too.

That's enough of me for today. The computer people just rang me to say my baby is ready, but in preparation for my nap I had a glass of wine.... thus I am not personally ready. Can't wait to bring her home though.

-DM

Pradaly as asshole......practically?

You think it's fucking funny Prada. I know you do. You sent me yet more shit to kill and grow a complex about. I'll let my shrink know where to send the bill.

They are rather cute. Mr. Morgan says Prada indicated they are blind. They blink a lot but are very scrambly. Honestly I'd scramble too even WITH sight if I was brought into this house. Bad luck boys, sorry, I didn't ask for ya so the lucky tab wasn't in the cards.

I've flopped them next to the ants, wondering if they have enough water, too much water, or water they just don't care for. The food given for them is... well it came in one of those packagings you'd fill with ketchup at any local eatery. It seems far too large for their tiny mouths. I think they sniff it (since blind.. though not convinced yet and if so..... why did you buy me the cancer turtles Prada???? Discount?) and they seem to hope it'll get smaller as it floats.




I personally do not think they are blind. They scramble anytime I lean over, and I lean quite silently. They are very in tune to sound and Francis likes to have his head pet. Or he's just coming up for air, I don't entirely know.

Tardy does little but hide and go all turtle like, sucking all limbs and head in, very jumpy that one. Not Francis, he's a squirmer. He will not stand to be handled in such a way and made a comment about picking on my own size. Below a little convo .... don't think I didn't freak the fuck about turtles to others, I mean unless you ask for a dead fish in your bed, should one be there?

D Morgan: turtles LIVE
D Morgan: on my fucking proch
D Morgan: porch
D Morgan: I adore the funny
D Morgan: but maaaaan
saffyrreb: WHAT!
saffyrreb: she gave you turtles???
D Morgan: I'm uploading the vid
saffyrreb: oh boy lolol
D Morgan: she did I think to be a bastard bout my xmas threat
saffyrreb: but didn't she get you ants?
D Morgan: yeah.... we're all in here
D Morgan: one big happy fam
saffyrreb: silly prada
D Morgan: Asshole prada.... who I would run from, but genious idea.
saffyrreb: rofl
D Morgan: can you believe they came in styofoam?
D Morgan: so
D Morgan: sp
D Morgan: one was about dead.... I flopped in water and he came to life
saffyrreb: what!!
D Morgan: he's very skittish though.
saffyrreb: styrofoam!
saffyrreb: how big?
D Morgan: no fuck... packed in those ... peanut things
D Morgan: they couldn't move much.
D Morgan: and I thought daaaamn ants re-visited.

It's my birthday!

-DM

The Jig is up!

I made some antennae. I wore them all day with great pride in my ability to build them from a fairly limited assortment of office supplies.



Mr. Morgan came home with gifts. While we don't normally celebrate valentine's, other than my spur of the moment purchasing of the quartet, I admit to gleefully shrieking and tearing my way into the box.

Sneakers.

This may sound as a bad purchase to some, but to those who have seen... and better yet SMELLED my sneakers, they are a more than welcome addition to my home. I've cried for new sneakers for about two years. These are expensive sneakers. I almost don't want to wear them, they intimidate my sense of spending.

As we had a drink I said his present would arrive in an hour or so. He looked at me and said that if it was a singer I would be swiftly killed. I said I didn't know what they were going to do. "THEY???" he yelped. /shit DM curse your loose lips.

He agreed to put on clothing and paced unhappily for a long time. It was sadly too dark in my living room to get the video, but I did get audio. They were dressed quite fancy, and performed to each and every penny of my money. Mr. Morgan stood there, visibly uncomfortable with his hands placed on his hips in a very awkward looking pose.



After, I showed him a video dance I’d made for him that he declared too sexy to enter here. I spent about an hour making it to perfection, and all he said was “You’re smoking and I better not find out you put that on the net.” I kinda liked the video other than noticing I have somewhere lost my ass. Where did my ass go? I used to have one. A good one in fact. Damn. If anyone sees an ass laying around, go ahead and pick it up for me.

-DM

Waiter, there's an ear in my soup

Well let's get the party started!

I found this egg crate thing under my desk and instantly saw it's future as my Birthday Hat. Since I'm getting old as fuck it's many spikes seemed likely enough to represent my misery. Highlighters a sharpie, good hat. Just as I finished the hat we watched the oldest person on the planet being pulled over by a highway patrol car. She chose our parking lot as the designated place for action. Moon and I looked at each other and it was like two gunslingers drawing to see who would get to their cameras and out the door first. We of course brought a smoke to make it seem normal, except I still had that thing on my head and officer gave me a weird look while we pretended not to be 100 fucking percent eavesdropping. We took photos, this also made him suspicious but I'd asked Moon "got anything illegal on ya?" She said no so fuck it, we were on private property, contraband free, we could do what we want. I wanted to scream RODNEY KING just for the fuck of it, but I didn't.

That's the "ooooooo somebody in trouuuuuuuuuuuuu-ble!" face of happiness that it wasn't me. Don't not notice he blocked in my metro. He was not fooling about with this woman. All we overheard was him saying he wasn't comfortable with her being on the road. Yet 20 minutes later she was a free bird and came - I fuck you not - 2 inches from wiping out my bumper to leave the parking lot. Wanna guess how fast I was out of my chair screaming "crazy bitch if you even TOUCH my car.." when in my mind all I was thinking was "State Farm will SO not appreciate this." since they just paid off my former metro incident.

In other news there was an ear in my chow mein today. I let Moon know of this immediately and she came to nod and say, completely straight faced. "Yeah, get a picture of that."

Ear if I ever saw one. We all know it's chicken but honestly, after I found chicken ear..... there was no more eating of the chow mein. We talked briefly about piercing the lobe, but no one really wanted to touch the fucking thing.


Happy Tues guys.... game on tomorrow!

-DM

Give my love to Sierra please....

Bosslady's mother passed last night. No matter my regular disdain for Bosslady, I feel for their loss a great deal. She held up with stature and composure I couldn't begin to pull off. I said little, other than a short email saying "please don't take my silence as a lack of empathy.... I am simply giving you all some space"

Who wants everyone flying at them saying I'm sooooo sorry when it's hard enough not to cry alone. I never met the woman, but I lift my glass to toast her tonight, as she must have been truly great to be so loved. Being one very into names..... hers was so lovely, Vena Pierce Thompson. Lift a glass with me.





I have more to say but will not dirty this entry with my babble.

-DM

Quote of the Day

"So if DM came out and saw us having a three-way do you think she'd mind?" /says man1.
"No I'd get my fucking camera, that would be hot." /says DM and exit room

Mr. Morgan has a few pals over tonight, and much imbibing is going on. I caught that tidbit on the sly as I'm not out there with them, was just getting a refill on my glass. Be sure to read below if you haven't, can't miss my Valentine plans or the frat men.

-DM

Intestinal Songs

Today not so good. Something went and got into my intestines to start a complete war. I started to have the worst stomach cramps (I believe this to be true) in the entire history of the solar system. There is no vomit (yet?), just a crazy cramping that covers the entire area of my torso. I have a slight fever, and I only know this because I snuck buying a Spongebob thermometer a while back as all of mine had been stripped from my nervous hands by Mr. Morgan. I tried to grapple but hung my head in shame and agreed that carrying one in a bag all day wasn't entirely healthy for my psyche. I don't know what I've got but for a while I cried insisting appendicitis, then just cried in general and went head down ass up in Bosslady's Daughters office, hoping that it was gas and I could break it up with scientific laws of gravity. Gas floats right? She then drew a face on my upper ass... which yes I have a photo of, but we really don't want to see that do we.

At home I called my mom and she answered ... seriously with:

"What now?"
"That's pretty fucking insensitive."

About how that went. No one TRIES to be a burden on others. Dick move mom.

In trying to make the best of today I gave in and decided to get Mr. Morgan a valentine gift. But first, gratuitous frat boys. Thank you gentlemen....



There was an add in the newspaper about a troupe performing for non-profit, charity event on Valens day (edification the above is NOT what I purchased... these are older men and no where deliciously naked). For 30 bucks four men will come and sing in the old school tenor style all in fancy gentlemen costumes, 3 songs, one rose and some candies. I bought my man MEN! Singing ones! I am giddy. He'll have to put clothing on, as I may have mentioned most men are completely unaware of their shit hanging out of their boxers. I see more dangle in this house than a porno on any given night and yes, it's very appreciated and greeted with a sly grin and peek. I am, gosh you'd have to know my look of proud mischief... it's that look of pride with a closed lipped nod that he;d gonna kill me first then realize it was completely fucking genius and well thought. So no one spoil this shit on me.

He has no idea of course, and I wonder if he'll think his wife a loon or inventive with her adoration. Combination perhaps? I sit writing in a personal journal on Sundays, things you all don't get, and in every entry I can honestly say I gaze at him or his direction and think WOW. Mr. Morgan is just.... I lack words, so lets go with deserving of people singing at him. Plus he made me sit while step-mother-in-law allowed people to sing at me for years. But it's not for vengence, ironic however. It's rather odd how very much he doesn't know about me, and yet he knows me better than anyone and loves me still. /baffle

To those who don't know, Mr. Morgan and I share the same birfin-day. He's notably younger, hotter and beyond smart in math. Fucker. I make up by forgetting I once too had a brain and pushing the cute button. That said... I'll be there with camera rolling for this surprise. The holiday is yank but singers on my porch is not. It's newsworthy.

-DM

Ya HA! Marcheth on!

Ants. They came! But would they be alive this fetch? I gloved up in case they were because I'm done fucking around with dead ones.



ALIVE! My elation quickly changed into a reality of ..... "well, you got the fucking things you so begged for, now what?" And I admit to faltering and taking more than a few steps back to wonder if I had finally lost that marble named "sensibility". I let them pace in their tiny enclosure for a few minutes but as the cold of my mailbox wore off I saw them getting very spry, very fast and decided it was into the tank or the garbage.

We collectively decided (except for Simon, he gave me are one of those -are you fucking daft? looks and said "Ants? I'm out" and I haven't seen him since) that we would opt for the tank. It's fairly difficult to explain how they came out, many were attached to each other in confusion about the forced quarters, and some had been planning to flee. Two tried. I've named them Caught, and Busted.

I did however change my clothes soon after because I was getting those ghost itches that my brain screamed ONE GOT LOOSE! The rap sheet on my ants is unsettling, it reads that they are basically waiting to eat my entire family but ya know.... enjoy!






They are ... I don't know.... busy. They keep climbing towards the escape hatch instead of burrowing. Naturally MY ants would be fucking retarded. I will write back to the ant givers and express my gratitude of providing newer, far more ambitious ants to thoroughly creep me out. Truthfully, as much as I like a good project... who brings the insects INTO the house. On purpose. Paid for. All an odd concept. Prada.... hows my fly trap going?



For old times... WHO REMEMBERS THIS!!!!!




No word on my computer, it can't say I'll call and get crazy... the man has my hard drive, thus controls my balls. I need to be working on a website but Mr. Morgan's machine laughed and told me to get real. I'll sick an ant on it.

-DM

ps - dont' forget it's birthin-day weeks. I WANT those happy birthdays. Every day.

Criminal on the lam!

I did take my pc to the doctor. I parked backwards on the street “the better to haul it with” as the brain of my life isn’t exactly floating against the laws of physics. I hadn’t gotten inside for any longer than my ass brushing inside of the door when a meter cop came running in, personally offended I’d parked backwards and got all stick waving on me.

And it’s off the races folks.

I am not a violent person and aside from my language I am a very polite person. In my arms I was obviously holding a VW Bugs’ worth in weight, but he was concerned about which way my car was facing on the street. By the way…… not a single other car parked on the entire block.

I told him to chill the fuck out, let me put this down and I’ll flip the car to an acceptable level to appease his power eating quota. I set it down, asked the guy inside to watch my bag and went back out. Mother fucker was writing a ticket!

“Um, sir we discussed that I would need at least ten seconds to unload my arms and grab my keys.”
“Yes but you parked the wrong way.” says meterman as he kept writing, staring at my bumper as through I’d insulted his dick and stole some license plates.

“Man…. Cmon, seriously I’m turning around, there is no parking lot, it was heavy.”
“Sorry.” He said with a smirky twirl of the stick and flapped the piece of paper my direction.

I went a little belligerent. I crumpled it and tossed it on the ground and told him he was not sorry and saying so was an insult to my intelligence although I understood it was probably a habit word from the bedroom at his home. Ok, the last part was mumbled.

I then said I didn’t have time for this shit or his stick waving in my face which is beyond un-ok and fuck me if that little ticket book didn’t re-appear.

“What now?”
“It’s still incorrectly parked .”
“You are totally from a tv show right? Where is the secret camera?”

He meant it and I called him a dick and went back inside to finish my vendor business. Very uncommon form for me but I don't like objects waved threateningly in my face unless it's from Mr. Morgan's pants.

In speaking to the computer gods, I found myself so distracted by asshole outside scribbling away like it was autograph time, that I’d talked to him for a good five minutes before I even looked up at his face. I was all but climbing his desk and peeking through blinds. He did not mind. Just wanted to know how he would be paid. I said I deserved a discount for the lack of a parking lot.

“Well you did park backwards…..”
“Is there a fucking echo in this city?”
“No he’s just very fast.”
“Discount!”
“We’ll see.”
“And I need a mournful photo with my machine.”

I had already told everyone at work I'd planned to tie myself to a tree or something if I didn't get a photo with my computer, and no one seemed to care, so I had to ask the Mega Mike the Machine Master for the hook up.

“What?”
“Photo” /camera slaps down “Mournful, you need to aim to get my most mournful look.”
“This is a first for me….”

I then looked at him and saw no less than 3 facial piercings, not shy ones at that, a neck tattoo and eyes that told me bullshit, if this was his first ANYTHING …. wow. To de-virginize that sort of thing is remarkable.

Look at the sadness. The grave look of a mother leaving a child at pre-school for the first time.

No I don't know what the fuck is with the cab collection back there but I've vowed to take one, if not two... depending on the bill.

-DM

Series of intensive frowning......

My computer this weekend coughed and died. I have been gasping for air every since in disbelief. I don't not care that it seems yank to depend on a machine so much, but if there ever was a time to say FUCK, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! it was yesterday. The entire house was in my room, the dogs pacing, Mr. Morgan trying hard to fix what HE broke, and me in the corner..... mad, shifty looking and building a pipe bomb.

To his credit, I had asked him to come and help diagnose something that had gone out of my realm of understanding.... but when shit breaks, it of course always goes to "well it was working BEFORE!" You all are married, you've played that game of anger, frustration and thinking up ways to subtly get even. Little bottulism... kick to the back at 1 o'clock in the morning, sending the person to the floor wondering what the fuck just happened. That sort of aggrevated thing, take your pick.

He hauled his pc into my room to feed me my internet fix, but it's like .... not my computer. I feel like I am touching a strangers' genitals.

I want MY PC! Mr. Morgan does not understand this, says it's "just" a computer, but for full effect one needs to understand that I live at my computer. I have an overpriced lofty chair (he has one that vibrates....slip and trade?) and for Christmas I got a giant ass monitor. I watch dvd's on it before I'd go to another room, it's that crisp and large and perfect for a half blind bitch. Point is, I am set up in here enough to call it a storm shelter. When computer dies... I went through the stages not unlike grieving a death of a relative.

Denial - naw..... it's just kidding
Fear - is it fucking serious?
Anger - who did this!
Acceptance - Never.

For interest I post the following photo of Mr. Morgan's desktop. He was very itchy about me not fiddling with shit, but hi, I'm a fiddler. You broke my machine with my entire photo life on it.... I shall fiddle. I keep seeing him peeking. Wondering if a fiddle is in action.

Oh he's not a fucking pc crackhead either huh? I've been ragged for my desktop being a bit clouded.... but beat THAT. No shortage of shit to have there eh. I rest my case.

I phoned up DeBug Computers. Closed today, but I left a message indicating I'd be in to flop my most prized (almost) owned item onto thier good, and advertised care. I liked their ad.

Computer Frustation? it said ... I screamed YES!
Need qualified help? .... Oh my god yes PLEASE!
Looking for a specialist who won't mention he saw photos of your husband naked when he fixed your shit? .... where do I sign?

Below is just last week's fun. In truth I am very fuckign nervous my whole photo life went down with that pc. Let's all pray..... cmon, join the circle. Why I am grappling Bosslady's Daughter I don't know. You'd have to have been cuddled by her to know why it's a god damned good place to be. She looks midly entertained, but I attack often for loves.


-DM

Please stop.

I originally went looking for the folks who covered this song with strings, and found the below. We all know I once played violin, albiet I won't claim to say I ever did so with a good deal of talent. The notes tickle my ears in a way that frequently makes me clench my eyes shut and tear up. Strings are just that beautiful to me. There is a fellow in the Dave Matthws Band - a good sized african gentleman with dreads and a large smile, he is beyond graced. Should I ever find coverage of his best, it's as good as posted.

For now.....to see this video, watch below. I would give a warning, but no. Suffice it's ugly, but it's the world man, I am all about ignorance is bliss but sometimes we need to see stuff even if it's sad. Well it made me cry anyhow that much is a warning. Awesome song while it goes play that shit as loud as you can... hint hint "watch me, watch me!" (I will never not slip my own views into this site..... this video kills me. Anyone it doesn't, I fear you. For else I with one hundred percent of my heart EMPLORE you to watch it all the way through. No cheaters or fucking cry babies, please.... watch and listen.)

The first photo... it kills me. Partially because of my Ediberto (adopted son in meixco all mine mine mine) and how terribly skinny he was when snagged for the fix-em-up. Later for all that. You watch now.



/sign of the cross (backwards as ever with my left hand) Prayers man... fuuuuuck, I lack words and statement for how I feel about the state of the world. Let's simply go with THIS SHIT SUCKS AND I DON'T LIKE IT!

-DM