Sex Objects.

Man, I suck at this "blogging" thing lately.

I thought I owed some excerpts. Here are my top ten favorite sentances from my NaNoWriMo endeavors of 2007.

10. "He is lovely in the way an aging Aunt might use the word."

9. "I write. I work. I party.”

8. "It’s been hard the last year in San Francisco without her, without our traipsing about the Tenderloin and Lower Haight together, without our joint drunken adventures between Whiskey Thieves and Molotov’s and Summer Place."

7. “I got three beers, and an inch left in a fifth of Smirnoff."

6. “Kay. I’ll be right here being completely pious.”

5. "I wonder if she’s already mentioned that I’m slutty, to boot."

4. "Ha Ha, I said laughingly!"

Okay, just kidding. I didn't write that, Hunts did, but I've been saying it all the time for days now, no stopping point yet in sight. This line has the potential to be one of my favorite lines of all time up there with "stack it up", "based on what", and "O. R. they". Ha Ha. I said laughingly.

4. “I never was much of a boy scout.”

3. "It just goes to show, just when you think you can escape your past, there it is again, naked in your bed."

2. "Go wash the fucking sin off, put yourself together, and call me when you get off, no pun intended."

1. "Mind blowing, vag exploding, leg shaking, cradle robbing sex."

Will I win? Hmm...we'll see.

p.s.--Seriously, I do't know if I can finish this. I'm behind, I've been behind since I started, and now I find myself staring at the screen more often than actual typing is happening. The solitude is getting to me--it's staring to verge on lonliness.

p.p.s.--Also, I need to get laid. Ha ha, I said laughingly.


In My Own Head: Why NaNoWriMo Might Kill Me

I had anticipated being a complete hermit.

I thought about the work and the solitude.

I had no idea that I was yet unable to sit comfortably with my history: meaning that rehashing all this shit has been harder than I had anticipated.

Things I have contemplated over the last couple of weeks:

1. Richie. Damn. I wrote this small piece that included him, and I went fucking bonkers. Mary had never even heard of him--which goes to show how long it's been since I've really sat down and thought about everything that happened. This then led to...

2. Matthew. Yeah, I write about him all the time, but always in this kind of cautionary tale way that he is largely used as a bar to hold others to--a jumping off point for a story. I mean, I remember loving him, but before now I had forgotten what it felt like to love him.

3. Concerning these two, the big thing I wrote down was sitting on a curb in front of The Abbey in SoBe the night before I left crying and telling Matt that I had slept with my best friend. Oops. I will likely now never forget how I felt after that spilled out of my fucking mouth.

4. I wrote about how Open Letter was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Now I'm scared about the things I write down.

5. I also just realized that this wont magically be over in December--then there's NYCD to make.

Fuck. I'm in for another month of this.

At least the Psychiatrist's party was awesome, it will be the only time I go out this month.

[See you at Thieves on the first.]


Punk Rock and Its Many Uses

There was a time in the long, long ago when my perverbial five disc changer was stocked with...

Okay, fine. Emo. Yeah, I hid behind the "Indie Pop" and "Alt Country" monikers, but come on bro--that shit is so Emo.


Since moving to San Francisco, I can't handle all of this overly sentimental crap in large doses--I've replaced it with tons and tons of driving guitar and balls-to-the-wall lyricism that I have, just yesterday decided, prevents me from hearing what's going on in my own head.

Meaning? Meaning that an Against Me! live album or a Buzzcocks comp disc keeps my mind from running when I don't have time for it to.

No, this doesn't make sense. But it will.

As soon as NaNoWriMo is over, I'll explain in detail.


p.s.--The Psychiatrist's party is tomorrow. Need to catch up on my word count before then.

p.p.s.--Sup Hunts. I'm totally eating out of a bowl right now. A Sadness Bowl.


Worst. Sex. Ever.

Many have asked about the TSG blow-up, so here's what happened.

I went over to his apartment one night, he was acting like an asshole and I told him to stop. He asked me if I was on my period or something. I replied that no, I wasn't, and that he was just being an asshole. Then we had the most perfunctory sex I've ever had to the point where I was comparing it to the other worst sex I had ever had in my life while it was happening. Then I got dressed and left his apartment in the middle of the night. It's really that simple.

Since then, I have had some similarly bad sex. Not quite that bad, but bad, and I'm beginning to think that the only comon denominator is me. Maybe I'm just bored. Maybe I'm dissatisfied. Maybe I'm insatiable.
I don't know. Let's recap.

Nico--Oct. 27th

Miguel's friend Nico was visiting from Texas. Before he got here, Erica talked him up all like "Oh my god he's covered in tats and he's hit like every girl in Dallas and every girl is always talking about how awesome he is in bed..." Blah, blah, blah. What actually happened? He wrapped his hands around my neck, shoved me against a wall and put his tounge down my throat. Then, he said he couldn't fuck me because he had a girl back home, but changed his mind sometime around the time his fucking dick got hard. Unfortunately it turned out to be a self fulfilling prophecy--he could barely stay hard and proceeded to fuck me for a grand total of 25 seconds. That's a liberal estimate.

I'll give Nico a C-, but most points are awarded for him shamefully sleeping on the couch after he knew he fucked up and left me completely fucking frustrated. Bonus points are awarded for the following night when we went out and actually had a good time together without him trying to show off.

Mike--Oct. 29th
The sex was allright that night; in fact, from what I can remember, it was pretty good. I was completely hammered however, as it was my birthday. Let's revisit that one.

Woody--Nov. 5th
After a sexually fruitless week in the Pac-NW, I decided my last night there should be spent at my ex's house, so I booty called him at one in the morning. When I arrived, I was so fucking exhausted, I could do little more than curl up in his bed, and fall asleep. In the morning, he fucked me for about five minutes.

I'll give Woody an even C, but I should also note that morning sex has never been a forte of mine. To date I've only been really into the morning thing with one person, and that was Math. Bonus points in this case are awarded for getting me an extra blanket, putting on Trailer Park Boys (to which I am addicted now) before I went to sleep, and hitting the snooze button enough times to let me sleep in. Oh, and for actually caring for me. Yup guys, it's true. There's at least one of them out there.

So what happened with Mike? Oh fuck. I've told this story a hundred times today, and every time it makes less and less sense--

Let's just skip to the end.

"Well, can't you just blow me a little bit?"


"What? Miranda?"

"Get out of my apartment right now."

Yeah, he get's an F. No points were awarded for asking me on his way out: "What are you doing tomorrow?"

You guys, I just need to be fucked. Hard. Long. All fucking night long. I need some no-holds-barred-crazy-fucking-animal-style-fucking, I need some good old-fashioned deep-dicking, some marathon fucking insane not-enough-ciggarettes-in-the-world-can-calm-me-down-after-that-fucking-fucking-we-just-did type sexcapade. I'm totally serious. I need this to reset my clock, you know? Wipe the slate clean, start over.

The worst part is, I can remember the last time I was fucked like this, and in the morning when he got in the shower, I ran back upstairs in my PJ's with a bruised cervix, slammed my door and slid my back down the inside of it until my head rest upon my knees.

I hated myself in the morning for doing it, but now all I can think is that I hate myself for not enjoying it at the time.

Can one be so fortunate to feel unhappy for having amazingly good sex?

Apparently I once thought it was a luxury I could afford.


p.s.--I'm behind about 1000 words on NaNoWriMo right now. Boo. On the upside, Lisa and I are going to a party at the Psychiatrists house on Saturday. Stories and pics on Sunday.


Forever Puppy: How one's hometown can make 27 feel like 17.


1. Spent a few days in Portland. Hung out with Mary and met Jenna. Who is awesome.
2. On Halloween, we hung out in my old neighborhood and went a'drinkin'. If you're wondering about my big, round belly in the previous pics, it's because my costume was "pregnant".
3. Friday night we got to Seattle. Crystal was already drunk by the time we got to The Duck. In an attempt not to drink until 8:30 like our previous first night in Seattle, we totally quit by 6.
4. Went to hidden beach.
5. Morning found us at Gavin's talking about how we should run upstairs and brush our vagina's with Jeremaiah's toothbrush.
6. Ahh...the Five Spot. Bloody Mary's and Benny's. Sweet.
7. Off to Crystal's house to shower and change. That took till 8 that night.
8. The Nitelight. That might be my last time there before Pearl Jam tears it and the rest of the block down. Fucktards.
9. Smitty and A-A-Ron's house. Drank 'till the realatively reasonable hour of four. By four, I mean daylight saving's four. Kind of like five.
10. Breakfast at Charlie's on Broadway in the back bar. More bloody Mary's.
11. Picked up my reantal car and helped put Amanda's show up in Ravenna.
12. Back to Crystal's to shower and change.
13. PBR's with RCU on the Ave. One of the most perfect evenings I've had in some time.
14. Cruised up to Kenmore for a beer at Smitty's bar.
15. Finally made it all the way back down South to Woody's for some Trailer Park Boys and sleepy time.
16. Back to Crystal's to eat, shower, and change.
17. Picked up my Niece at school.
18. Hugged and kisses her for dear life, then left to get on my plane.
19. Nearly missed my flight--this is the closest call I've ever had. They literally closed the door behind me when I got on.
20. Got home just in time for a text from Crystal: "Get that foot away from my Vagina!"

Dedicated to Mary Starr, Crystal Wren, Amanda Michelle Dellinger, Mark William Huntsman, Peter "Big Ass Tree" Smith, Alexis Woody Lopez, Alexis Myricks, Aaron Gerking, Kyle Eberle, and the venerable Gavin Roberts--

Because I fucking love you guys.

Even Kyle.