Seriously, what the fuck?

I'm kind of wondering when this started to become a regular thing for me. Maybe I should post tonight. Maybe I should shut the fuck up and focus on figuring out how much free food I can stuff into my jacket before the hotel staff starts to wonder why their supplies of cold cuts and bread have become seriously depleted and why their tip jars have vanished while they weren't looking.

Five-finger discount. I never thought I'd see the day where I resorted to it.

I mean sure, there were days in high school when we'd hop over to the local convenience store, filling our pocket with that five-cent gum while the cashier was distracted. That was petty stuff. Stupid teenagers doing stupid things for stupid reasons. We were all guilty of it. I'm still guilty of it. College didn't do much for me, though it might have done more if I had bothered to pass my first year.

Ecology was a bitch of a major, anyway.

It's been only a couple days, but I feel like I need to post. I guess it's a sort of... coping mechanism? A chance to vent? It's not like I have much to actually report on (other than oh god living is expensive , why does my ass hurt oh right because I've spent the last few months living out of a CAR, and my favourite this is my email, password, plate and current location. txt itttt!) so I guess that means you all get to put up with my bullshit.

At least until I get some unwelcome company. Who knows? Maybe they'll key more symbols into the side of my car. They go with the weather damage. I call it Urban Survival Chic, now with 50% more deranged psychopaths (or maybe just cultists, honestly the more I read up on this shit the more I think you're all just insanely devout. Or maybe drugged. Both? Who cares.) scrawling nonsense on the passenger side window and stuffing dead crows (and sometimes very much alive crows) into the grill of your car.


I once woke up to my door wide open and lipstick on my jugular, with a note from none other than the insane blonde bimbo herself.

You're very cute when you sleep.
Be careful, next time I might do more to your throat than just kiss it.
Love always,
Cougar


Fuck I hate that woman.