camera shy…on saturday night

damn thing won't defuzz...whatever....

kiss kiss
**deAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

dude, looks like someone punched that bitch in the lip

repierced my lip. again. though the pain was less intense, or i was more numb than the last time...i had to take it out for a spindly job at a sport's bar. then hacked a mini dot in my nostril for the balance...and though the living room is a far better place for the computer, my back is lame and killing me.

i got some lame runway show to do on Friday, which should be interesting since I tower over the other girls by at least 5 inches naturally (which is kind of signifigant in platforms). fewcha plans include:
# get a new job, or improve present circumstances. ie raise!
# work on portfolio for school
# finish 98 taxes
# fafsa my poor ass to the government
# get to cali in april, perhaps for the weddding
# get to miami in may
# plan for europe in fall
# think about bar buying proposal
# diss all the nasty little rats who follow me around like a bad fan club.
# work on my guitar playing like the rockstar I really am.
# make myself stop writing impossible lists that no one really cares about.

rock out slick pimps
~deanna

boys oys gonna give me an ache yea

guys. trash. boogers.

brian said he would let me use the upper floors of his hotel/appartment so that i could paint. and the tattoo apprenticeship that got sucked into the drunken pools of vomit at my bar is still gonna happen goddamnit.
i'm quitting. not appreciated. not givin a fuck.

iam has become sort of a last resort for me. i love my in person boys and girls. they seem not to have so much fruitcake bullshit to hand out.
i bought girlscout cookies. everyone at them.
barbara's comin so sooooooon.
love me.