There was an error in this gadget

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Shit Sucks Then You Die

Basically nothing is going right. I haven't gotten into college unlike everyone else. The sister is home. That sucks. What will be known as the "College Intervention" really made me feel like shit. As if it was supposed to make me feel better. Also, Georgia never blogs anymore. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I'm the lone wolf on a path to no where. If someone could give me a road map to my future that would be awesome. thanks.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

WE MADE IT TO 100 POSTS


fuck yes ladies and germs, we made it to 100 posts.

You know that feeling when you are so comfortable with someone you can sing in front of them, badly in the car? Oh and the feeling gets even better when they tell you that you are good? I just needed to brag that I hit that landmine. Yay me.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Midnight in the Morgue

It smells like death. It's dark. I feel like i have been here before but I'm not quite sure. The place is mostly used storage. My boyfriend works in the Fridge. That's what we call it, in the back of the morgue where they put the bodies in cold drawers. I hang out with him after hours. the whole death thing doesn't bother us. Sometimes we open the drawers and look at all the serene faces. The people just look fake. It's weird being the only one alive in a crowd.
It must be weird to switch religions daily. One day Catholic, the next day non denominational. Funeral homes are so ironic when you think about them. First of all, they are not really homes. Second of all they dress up dead people to look "alive". They look like manikins to me. Fucked up manikins. "When I die just bury my as I am. On the top of a hill." He looked up from his news paper. "Ok." Back to the sports section. He didn't like to get too philosophical. He said it made him depressed. I looked at him for a second and asked if he wanted a cigarette. Again he just looked up, "No thanks." Back down, reading.
I never thought my life would come to this. Funeral Home at 2 AM, inhale, exhale. Rings float up and disappear. The funeral home is up by the mountains. Weird shit happens in mountains. A guy on a horse just rode by. The first thing that came to mind was "Do you think this guy is a pedophile?". Dropped the end, made a wish, put it out. I make a wish every time I put a cigarette out. Weird habits keep your character alive. I turned to go back inside, walked into a massive spider web. I'm an arachniphobe. Sobbing and hyperventilating i made it back into his office. He was still reading the paper. The paper went down and he got up. I walked up to him and collapsed into his arms.
The next day, he walked me to the car. It was about 9 AM. His shift was over.
"Do you want me to drive you back home?" He looked at me for a good ten seconds, searching for an answer. He finally said "No, I'm going to walk." I pulled out of the parking lot. My back hurt from sleeping on the cot in the middle of the room. He just finished reading the paper when I crashed on the make shift bed. I remember him saying goodnight. He doesn't talk much and I thought it was sweet, almost an "I love you" in a weird way.
Driving home took a long 5 minutes. I turned the radio on. "NO I AM NOT LOOKING FOR A DIVORCE LAWYER!" I turned it off. I parked in the driveway, locked the doors and went in. Just how I left it. "Hey house". I turned on the TV. Flipped the channels. Nothing worth wasting my time on. I moved from room to room almost gracefully, then turned on the shower. I undressed and got in. The front door opened. I paused. Turned the shower off. "Hello?"
"Hey!"
"Give me a second. I'll be right out..."
"Oh you don't need to rush I just wanted to shovel your food in my face."
"God damn it. Why did I give you a key?"
"Fuck you. You need to go to the Trader Joe's down the block, get some real food."
"Not all of us are living off our parent's inheritance..."
"It's a hard job."

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Friends?

I thought I could be friends with the past. It worked for a little while I guess. Still, it was nothing special. We talked almost everyday, the past and I. We laughed like we used to. It felt ok. Everything is all fun and games until someone starts thinking too much. I'm a genuine party pooper. The paranoia took over my brain for a good two days. It wasn't even paranoia, I don't even know how to describe it. (how can you be paranoid about something that already happened?) It was weird.

End of the story, I abandoned ship. I hope I made the "right" decision...

Monday, October 3, 2011

what happens when you google google??

This happens. You get slutty pictures of a search engine. That's what happens when you google anything. Slutty pictures and ugly people. Sad. I have writer's block. It's kind of a big deal to be living with this sickness for too long. I feel fried, totally and completely brain dead. I guess that's what shit does to you.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The Lost Paper



I lost you when you went back home. I remember watching you walk down the street, away from me. It was already dark and i got one too many bug bites on each leg. I remember that much. You said something like "if I don't leave, then I cant come back." Somehow I feel like you lied or you were never there to start. I probably imagine our friendship more than anything. Maybe I made you up too.

You said you cared about me and you said all the things that anyone would want to hear. In the end, you make me really really sad. Atleast I'm happy for a good 20 minutes when you come around.. Or atleast until the high wears off.

In short, I always wanted more out of our friendship. Nothing crazy or intimate, mostly just a phone call or a "hey happy birthday!" text. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wish we were friends.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Who's That WOMAN?!

hello bloggees.
Both members of the garden are present, aren't we George?
That's right Georgia! we are here today, researching LETHAL LADIES~
Such as Lucrezia Borgia and Elizabeth Bathory. I like the idea of becoming one of these women in the near future.
Good thing i'm not a virgin. STOP FARTING!
Ladies and gentlemen, the chair is farting, not I.
Georgia, why don't you tell these fine readers what Elizabeth Bathory is famous for?
She was one of the most beautiful women in the world. She was terrified of aging, and killed 650 beautiful virgins to get their blood and bathe in it in the hopes of gaining youth.
Fantastic, thanks Georgia.

Followers

About Me

My photo
Georgia and George Ficus have a long history together. We would like to share our lives with the world of bloggers. ENJOY WORLD. Love, George and Georgia Ficus