and i forget its the devil, i think im fucking something up.

two hot chicks followed me home from the store tonight.

one was invited, a sweet little el salvadorian number from the ninety nine cents store.

i forget her name but there was an x in there somewhere near the middle.

shaved eyebrows with a tattoo eyebrow making the most unnatural curve.

unbelieveable spanglish, long fingernails, tight body, and a turbo saab that her last boyfriend gave her before he found out that she was a cashier at the ninety nine cent store.

i was feeling a little depressed after work today because it seemed like i had been in a fight with every damn one and i wasnt even honking at the grocery store strikers and raising my fist any more.

went up to the smelliest fucked up homeless woman tonight with four ones rolled up and out and asked her if she had eaten dinner and she said, no thanks im doing something here and turned back at the pigpen-dirty wheelchair that she had been sitting in and readjusted the blanket that i believe she was pissing on while standing up

and somehow satan had convinced me that i shouldnt go to the tsar show tonight, reminding me that i hadnt written my five pages to my novel yet, how i hadnt written five yesterday neither and how only i would refuse the company of a big titted hotchick who had been giving in every way to i could remain pent up so i could write said novel but then not write but four pages and then peter off

like a bitch.

say what you want about the president of the united states but he never let the devil talk him out of doing something, even if he shouldnt be doing it at all under any circumstance.

god i hate the president of the united states.

there always has to be an asshole in the mix. doesnt there.

my true love called me today.

thats how you fight the devil.

my true love called and told me the most wonderful things.

this other girl at work she told me the most romantic story. a tale about a young black woman and the man shes in love with, a pakistani man whose parents want him to marry a pakistani woman.

my work has me On like thirty percent more than before.

i have almost no free time.

the type of crime we fight is so widespread right now that its like an infestation.

of course i need to go see tsar.

if only just for an hour.

then back to you.

then back to the book about hot sex between kick ass people.

one who works at a ninety nine cent store in hollywood california

and one who is so fucked up

its never boring.

<3 kristin <3