drunkteenagebitch

desde la planta baja

2011-06-05T15:23:00.000-07:00

oh if only i was as socially calculated!
i will lament for eternity this single story mind.

on the other hand, watch those stairs...

looking up.

2010-11-08T16:25:00.000-08:00

there is nothing left. i'm pretty sure that i hate all of you.

2010-09-05T18:46:00.001-07:00

Dearest Friends, Today is the last day to submit to Not Enough! Use our handy Submission Form

summer nights

2010-09-01T13:08:00.001-07:00

yeah.

dead lovers

2010-08-30T14:35:00.000-07:00

there's a place in my mind
where you rape me
everynight.
you say
i'll kill you
i'll kill you
i'll kill you
i'll kill you
but i don't mind
because most of the time
i want to die
anyway.

PRIDE INC.

2010-05-29T13:08:00.001-07:00

Where are you likely to find a bunch of radical queers on a friday or saturday night? Planning a revolution? Starting a band? Guess again. Try gyrating to top 40, and slamming rails off of the nastiest toilet seat you've ever seen. Apparently, we have joined the ranks of our mainstream counterparts, but are unwilling to admit any correlation whatsoever. We congratulate ourselves for the nasty coke-laden sex we had in the aforementioned bathroom and bask in the glory of our queerness. Our dirty, nasty, authentic queerness. Surely there's nothing more REAL than fist-fucking each other at our favorite queer night? Dirty fingers reaching to undo a useless belt. The belt's the easy part; those tight ass pants pose the real obstacle. The smell of dirty hair, product hair, a clean shaven body, a hair body, leave my hat on, wait, lower, well that was cool, next.

Dear "Queers",

You're fucking boring. you're boring me to death.

Mechanical Pencil

2010-05-06T15:20:00.000-07:00

What a drag...

2010-05-03T11:54:00.000-07:00

I don't blame you for the fact that I wasted an entire hour of my life reading your pathetic ramblings. I don’t blame you for fancying yourself a destroyer of hearts, and I don't even blame you for the disgusting mess you made of your life, and how with tedious words, you continue to fabricate your own legend as if it mattered to anyone else in the world. All of this is forgivable and somewhat understandable. What I DO blame you for, you stupid little queen, are your revolting cries for attention. The seedy underbelly of rich kid night life is it? Gentlemen in their late 20s living profoundly on daddy's ticket while drinking famously in carefully tattered couture. A drunken slur so thick that syrup pools and collects itself to form a persona molded from the very streets outside your favorite dive bar far far away from where you actually live. Fashionable words, bitter words, cascade out of your mouth until they are as important to life as exhaled cigarette smoke. And trust me love, your diatribe is nothing more than that. You are a smoke screen; an amateur magician that couldn’t convince a child of his tricks. I know what it is you truly desire, and to what lengths you’ll go to get it. In time, those skinny legs will tire and bend until you become a compass pointing wretchedly toward a fate you always feared, but one that was always inevitable.

more realizations

2010-04-25T13:35:00.000-07:00

The realization that i am probably a ridiculous bitch is really hard to swallow.

lies and the lying liars who tell them

2010-04-24T14:05:00.000-07:00

enough said.

the road to enlightenment

2010-01-10T15:28:00.000-08:00

is a scary one. in fact, i'm terrified.

from the freedom cage

2009-12-10T12:01:00.000-08:00

school's over and done with for the moment. i get to enjoy TWO whole weeks of freedom. the wife's leaving tomorrow which is a drag. i wonder what kind of trouble i can get into...
going home for the holidays to 70 degree weather which will be a glorious change. this cold stuff is for the birds.
just finished a brief history of time(more to say on that later), and on to immanuel kant's critique of pure reason. it looks and feels like the fucking bible.
that's all.
for now...

realization #2 i have complete control of my destiny.

2009-10-01T14:06:00.001-07:00

there is something overhead. i can feel it, and i intend to find out what it is at any cost. there are some who would deny my intuition, but that is a foolish game. Intuition is stronger than god. i will be here, biding my time until it is my turn to strike.

2009-09-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

i wish i could describe the insufferable longing that accompanies the absolute absence of a dear friend. the words are never there, but the feeling is a constant scratching on my solar plexus. since last october, i have suspected this internal bleeding, but have successfully, until now that is, managed to ignore it. the last few days i have felt it pool in my lungs; an incessant drip that has become a flood. my reality has evolved to a place where only this flood exists. a reality where the blood of my wound spews out of me, replicates the face i see every night in my dreams, and becomes a waking nightmare. it is so final, and that is very hard to digest.

why do i do this to myself?

2009-06-01T11:00:00.001-07:00

it's so obvious, but i can't stand it. help. we do it for ourselves and no one else.

realization #1

2009-04-22T19:07:00.000-07:00

sometimes, there's nothing you can do.

The Log Lady

2009-04-17T19:54:00.001-07:00

the log lady introductions at the beginning of twin peaks are AMAZING. i couldn't find video footage of the one i wanted, but here is the transcript. it is relevant to an earlier post.

"Sometimes we want to hide from ourselves--we do not want to
be us--it is too difficult to be us. It is at these times that
we turn to drugs or alcohol or behavior to help us forget that
we are ourselves.

"This of course is only a temporary solution to a problem which
is going to keep returning, and sometimes these temporary
solutions are worse for us than the original problem.

"Yes, it is a dilemma. Is there an answer? Of course there is:
as a wise person said with a smile: 'The answer is within the
question.'"

i'm too old for this shit

2009-04-16T10:38:00.000-07:00

why i am fighting for myself? what is it, and why is it worth any amount of time, pain, or happiness? i am, essentially, just an idea: and a bad one at that. my physical self is real to you i'm sure. you can see that i have brown eyes, long hair, and a flannel shirt. you can smell that i maybe haven't showered in a while, or that my hair reeks of sleep. you can feel that i don't use lotion, and that my pants are polyester. you get the picture.
the matter of which this physical body is constructed is suspended in space for all with senses to experience.
BUT...
a long time ago when i realized this person, i made an emotional agreement to be myself. get rid of it. get rid of it. get rid of it.

2009-04-11T23:04:00.001-07:00

It’s been a difficult day. I woke up this morning with Jess' name on my lips. In my dream, my sister was hit by a bus and killed. When I opened my eyes, my body ached like I imagine an old lady’s would. I felt 100 years old. Did a bus hit me? No such luck. The wife and I drank coffee and talked about Jessica. Talking about her feels like being under water (which is bitterly ironic). It’s this really indecipherable thing. I now speak a language that almost no one understands, and it’s aging me faster than I initially realized. I go to bed every night with a broken heart. I wake up every morning an old woman.

an open letter to the moms of portland

2009-04-11T15:29:00.000-07:00

You in the green Subaru. Yes, I'm talking to you. You're a goddamn dirty bitch, and the most psychotic driver i have ever seen. cutting me off to make your 9:30 am yoga class is not fucking cool, so get a grip and stop having kids.

Francis Crick

2009-04-09T14:42:00.000-07:00

"Christianity may be OK between consenting adults in private, but should not be taught to young children."

there's only one way to find out

2009-03-29T12:28:00.000-07:00

i've been gone for way too long my dears, but i'm back. unemployed and living in portland, i have a decent amount of time on my glands to update this thing.

now, Forever has just finished a 2 week SXSW tour, and it was basically an excuse to go a little overboard on the drinking, get poison oak on my ass, and hang out with our new guitar player Bob(who fucking rulez in all wayz). there was no live tour blogging, but bob wrote a nice recap of all the debauchery
www.bobdserious.blogspot.com
join us next week when Forever goes to REHAB no no no

the dinner party.

2008-04-12T20:34:00.000-07:00

dude how righteous is judy chicago? the wife and i just saw the dinner party at the brooklyn museum of art.

i wear my heart on the internet

2007-05-22T22:53:00.000-07:00

and that's embarrassing.

updates, or holy shit?

2007-04-30T14:10:00.000-07:00

i've had a vacation. it was nice. now i am back. i forgot about my blog. thank you for the reminder.

updates are for pussies

2007-02-10T17:51:00.000-08:00

the yes list
1. i am very fond of the saying "i used to be a writer until i realized that i didn't have anything to say"(copy written, so don't copy me).
2. i am also fond of the gems that maximize the 16 picture option on their myspace profiles. where would we be without the fashion forward?
3. myspace trackers. bitch i know you obsessed with me, not that i blame you. i just wanted to know for sure.

dudes...seriously. this rules so hard.

2007-01-28T20:24:00.000-08:00

once and for all

2007-01-16T21:05:00.000-08:00

There seems to be some controversy surrounding my post on how to effectively discipline children. In order to settle this matter once and for all, i have decided to defer to the expert on the subject. this should lay it to rest.

instructional video one

instructional video two

i sent my application into town. did you hear they turned me down?

2007-01-14T18:00:00.001-08:00

how fucked up is this? Lydia's mom sent this to her because she thought she would "enjoy" it( which she wrote on the inside cover preventing lyd from taking it back to borders where it belongs). there was this other time she sent a clipping of an advertisement for pharmacy schools. on the back of the clipping there was a note that read " isn't this great? you love pharmacies". Apparently, on the family trip to brazil 2 weeks prior, lydia had commented on how convenient it was that brazil had 24 hour pharmacies.

note: both of these packages were shipped priority overnignt.

No Spanking: they call us hitters.

2007-01-11T02:12:00.000-08:00

Alright,
now everyone knows that i like the myspace. it's a great tool for your music, your art, and your ego. if you're savvy with photoshop you can make janet reno look attractive. if you're a creepy old man, you can make yourself a horny, 14 year old boy. you can be whoever you want to be within the confines of myspace profiling options. anyway, my point is that myspace is great for all kinds of things. HOWEVER, there is this profile called

No Spanking

that has tried to add me 3 times in the last 2 days. I can't figure out if it's a joke or what. Supposedly, they are launching a nationwide campaign to end spanking.

one question...

Are they insane? i honestly believe that the invention of childhood is the reason for widespread misery. 60 years ago do you think you would have seen a five year old child having a temper tantrum over a fucking cookie? Little Johnny would be too scared to speak, let alone have a conniption fit. furthermore, he wouldn't have had time to be thinking about cookies because his little ass hands were needed to churn some butter, or milk the fucking goat. i understand that there is a lot of money to be made aboard the baby boat, but if you wipe little johnny's ass for 18 years, he's going to start wondering why, at the age of 27, his ass is full of shit.

i'm not saying that people should fuck up their kids. excessive beatings should be reserved for when you're really pissed off. if and when those moments arise, don't be afraid to exercise a personal touch. when i lay into a kid, i like to use the end of a high heeled shoe. this method works for me, but it might not for others. if you're unsure about what to use, ask someone who believes in the art spanking. believe me, the fate of the world depends on the ability of parents to discipline their children correctly and efficiently.

look, all i'm saying is banning spanking is ridiculous. it's a time honored american tradition. i don't see any campaigns to ban football.

seasick, yet still docked

2006-12-30T21:25:00.000-08:00

where is the sluttiest sleaze of the seven seas? i have endlessly sailed the cellular waves for her, and do you know what i found? static. the sleaze is a very elusive creature. as soon as i think i've got her, she slips through my hands. i need a new plan. a new angle. maybe i'll write it on my blog.

close quarters

2006-12-28T16:05:00.000-08:00

this is my last resort...
i am mobile, free, and financed(sort of), but i cannot move. if it were possible to enjoy the sun like the pale, starving, san franciscans surrounding me, i feel like my life would be easier. but no, no, no, not drunkteenagebitch. i prefer to spend the winter of my depression lounged in a perfectly dank cave. could there be a better metaphor for this? where the state of yourself and the place of your person are the same thing? no need for embellishment or simile. just a freezing, dark, cave. usually there is a need amongst people of supposed wit to draw parallels, or better yet make complicated a very simple situation. i will do myself a favor and spare the boring details and just say that the cave of which i speak was born of the 101 freeway. safely nuzzled against its end. any sunlight that would be had, now inevitably blocked. but like i said before, i prefer it this way. it is situations like these that cause me to forget myself and what i was talking about. this was suppose to be a music blog. ok.
saboteurs are on tour right now. any of you southwest people that cannot live without good music should check their site for dates. any of you northwest people that are honest about the state of affairs in pnw for music should check their site for dates.

Saboteurs

in certain lights

2006-12-07T22:33:00.000-08:00

surely, it couldn't get any better than two therapy appointments in one day, but like all tedious nightmares, it always gets better. like maybe someone closed the door to the bathroom preventing the cat from getting to the litterbox. that someone was not me, but the bed that was shat on as a result of such carelessness was definitely mine.

and i've seriously been so nice to that cat lately. talking her up to my sister and matt. petting her when i didn't want to. loving her despite the curious inhabitants that have shacked up in her ass. that little motherfucker.

"she's trying to convey her unhappiness"

well, no shit.

i'm awake

2006-12-07T00:13:00.000-08:00

she's going away. what am i going to do?

This pussy has teeth: i kill with my cunt.

2006-11-18T18:36:00.002-08:00

clearly, there is an area of disconnect between good music, and what is deemed good music in this city. does god hate me, or are people just fucking with me?

"yeah dude, this shit is rad."

you've got to be joking. if i ever hear "dance beat" again I'm seriously going to have a seizure. though i have to say, that would be one hundred times more entertaining(and rhythmical) than 15 skinny hipsters gyrating to an updated blend of influences that should have stayed in the past. it's called the past for a reason...

The funniest thing about this dance craze is that all of these motherfuckers are absolutely serious. i went to this show/dance party at the echo when i was living down south, and in between bands these two bitches would get up on stage with crutches and neck braces and robot to like whatever peaches song that was popular at the time. i tried to gage a vibe from these aliens. were they joking? was the performance intended to inspire some feminist metaphor about women and how crippling it is to exist as such? what the fuck was going on?

then it occurred to me.

these people weren't trying to communicate some distress on the state of their existential dilemma through performance art. they weren't trying to poke fun at the post modernist attitude associated with electroclash. these fuckers were serious!! i could fully imagine the conversation that went down.

"oh my god amanda, wouldn't it be amazing if we put on our best a symmetrical shirts and totally go go dance with crutches?"

you know, one of those hypothetical hipster conversations turned reality. granted, this was at the height of electroclash popularity in los angeles, but don't think for one second that just because you "live in san francisco", and "LA hella sucks", that it doesn 't exist in the bay area. it has a different face. i've got two words for you: THE MISSION. look around. if you don't see some startling parallels then you're probably a shitty dj at one of those shitty clubs.
AND I BET YOU ASSHOLES NEVER SEEN LIQUID SKY.

this rant was off subject. i meant to say some nice shit about saboteurs. i will next post.

oh and p.s.

2006-11-09T01:28:00.000-08:00

i'm an idiot, and am attempting to learn how to get rid of these shitty dots.

this might be the end of my outside life, or do you work here?

2006-11-09T00:26:00.001-08:00

i got the new mac book pro yesterday. it was really stressful. large purchases always make me nervous. i went to the apple store downtown almost reluctantly. i was wearing a red sweatshirt. you may be wondering how my attire was in any way relevant to buying a 2500 dollar computer. well it was. sort of...
the new red ipod nano had just recently come out, so all of the apple employees were and are still currently wearing red t shirts. as soon as i enter the store i am assaulted by at least 10 assholes wanting to know how to turn on their ipods.

"um i don't work here".

"oh well it must be the red shirt".

i'm wearing a fucking sweatshirt. the employees are wearing t-shirts with white writing. of course i walk into a crowded store wearing something that might suggest that i work there. of course it's the fucking apple store. i swear to god the apple brand boasts such fanatics and wannabes.
so this "do you work here?" bullshit persists my entire stay( the stupid part is is that it never occurs to me to take the sweatshirt off), but like the champ that i am, i flag down probably the only employee in the whole store completely incapable of answering my question. not because he was a dumb guy, but because he was way more interested in talking to me about the electronic music he makes on his ibook.

"yeah man, i don't need an audio interface because i don't work with live drums".

well yeah dick but i do. such a boner. anyway, i somehow con him into giving me the student discount even though i'm not a student, and it seems like my hard work is finally paying off. so what if every douche in this store thinks i'm an employee. so what if i have to listen to the dude helping me talk about french house music. i'm buying a computer. it should be exciting shouldn't it?

"miss, your card was denied."

"i'm sorry, what?"

"um..your card's been denied..twice. there may be a limit to how much you can charge on your debit card"

well that's just fucking great.

"ok...i'll go get cash. i'll be right back"

not only do i have to walk four blocks back to the apple store with 2500 dollars cash in my pocket, but it's fucking hot outside and it still hasn't occured to me to take off the fucking sweatshirt.
i fight my way back through the "excuse me miss can i ask you a question?" and finally pay for my shit.
what ends up happening is simple: basically, i spend 6 hours straight on this bullshit, get really depressed, and my girlfriend finally forces me to go outside.

kindest regards,
drunk teenage bitch

Come on feel the noise.

2006-10-28T14:28:00.000-07:00

do you want me to review your band? please send me some shit.