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Tex Commando

I'm not angry, just outspoken

Tag Archives: dream

Ok, so I know how to take turns. Brandi writes. Then I write, then she writes again. Not to give too much information (like, really? Me? TMI?), but art should imitate life.

B knows what I mean.

So, I’ll write ONE decent post to your….UMMMMMM…. eight.

Deal? Deal.

You have seven more to go before it’s my turn again. Art. Imitating. Life.


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It’s also not shutting up.

Does that ever happen to you? You keep having the same recurring thought when you don’t want to. Don’t you hate that? I hate when I start thinking about something I don’t want to think about  but can’t make myself not think about it. Then, when I realize that I’m not thinking about that thing, I feel satisfied at my ability to not think about that thing. Unfortunately, that feeling of self-satisfaction is immediately erased by self-loathing because once again, I am thinking about the very thing that I wanted to NOT think about.

I wonder what is triggering these thoughts. I guess it’s time for some brainwork to figure out what the trigger is so I can stop it.

What thoughts do you have that torment you?


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I’m not usually the kind of person who does a lot of categorizing and listing. I also don’t do resolutions. Since it’s  a new year and all I thought, “Fuckit. I’ll do both and check in weekly.”

I know you mofos are already tuning out and picking at your nails. I know that my follow-through sucks. I know. I’m hanging my head in shame. But this time it’s going to be different. (That’s what HE said.)

So, here are some of my resolutions or goals or desires or hopes or whatever the hell you want to call it.

  1. Get myself out there more. To me, this means to expand my circle beyond the one or two friends I communicate with. I have become somewhat of a recluse over the past few months. It’s pretty depressing, and I am tired of it. I need more friends.
  2. Make myself do things even if I don’t want to. Refer to the top. I am a bit depressed. As a result, I haven’t had much (any) motivation to do anything extra. Like the things I love to do. Like cook. And exercise. And socialize. I need to make myself do these things. I know I will be happier if I just get off my ass.
  3. Challenge my creativity. This year, I plan to take it to the next level. You all know I knit, but this time I’m going to knit something difficult and beautiful. No more scarves and mittens. I used to cook all the time. I was passionate about food. It’s time to get some of that fire back into my belly. And, something different. I don’t know what it will be, but I will do something else. I have always wanted to learn how to throw pottery. I might try that.
  4. Have more orgasms. You know how it is with depression- lack of interest in sex. Not only do I have little or no interest in sex with my sexy husband, I don’t even want to have sex with myself. Lame. That’s going to change.

Wish me luck. I’ll get back to you mofos in a week with what I did on the list.

What are YOUR resolutions/goals/desires/hopes for the upcoming year?

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So, I’ve been sitting here next to Brandi for the past 15 minutes trying to post something in this blog about the amazing time we are having here in the den of inequity. But, I haven’t been able to think of anything because that bitch won’t shut up!! My goodness. She hasn’t stopped talking long enough for me to string two thoughts together. I mean, really! Shut up already!

Know that the fucked up thing is? Everyone that is here reads this blog. So I can’t talk shit about ANYONE. And, there’s some good shit to talk about. Like, really good shit. I think that I might piss sum bitches off and I don’t want to have to get in any fights.

It’s also fucked up that I haven’t really had much of a chance to blow away my family’s life savings yet. I have really been looking forward to becoming addicted to gambling. We played the slot machines once, and I got a 1,500% return on my FIRST TIME EVER. I mean, damn!! I’m a lucky motherfuckin bitch. I have the potential to become a damn millionaire. So tonight after our stripper certification class, I’m going to hit it big.

Well, I gotta go get my poolside manicure now. I have to get myself lookin’ hot for when I hit it big and they take my picture to post on the inside of the casino. I can’t be lookin’ all fucked up.

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Everybody is writing about their dreams. And by everybody, I mean Cognitive Dissenter, Foxy Pink Cheetah, and Eliza R. Snitch. I have felt pretty left out, because I hardly remember my dreams. I am sure that I do dream. Everyone does, right? I never remember them. Last night/this morning I had one that woke me up. It’s been more than 8 hours since I woke up from that dream, and it’s still as vivid now as it was then. I guess I should write it down. Here goes:

I’m in a public restroom. I’m sitting on the toilet, but the toilet is out in the open. Several women are in the restroom too, and we are chatting about nothing in particular. Aside from me being out in the open trying to take a shit, it’s a pretty normal scene. Then a creepy dude walks in. He crosses the entire room as if he’s checking it out to see how it’s laid out. All of the women are looking at each other in shock like we can’t believe what’s happening. I speak up. I tell him to get the hell out of the women’s bathroom. He looks at me like I’m speaking to someone else. I say, “Yeah, I’m fucking talking to you. Don’t you see that you don’t belong in here? This is a LADIES ROOM. You’re a dude. Get the fuck out of here!” He doesn’t say anything, but walks toward the door. I notice that he’s wearing two plastic headbands in his curly hair like the ones my little girls wear. When he gets to the door, he attempts to lock it from the inside as if to lock us in with him in there too. A store employee (man) pushes it open because he heard me yelling, and tells the dude that he can’t lock the door. The guy doesn’t leave, but tries to lock the door again. The employee pushes his head in the door again, and I yell at him to get security. Them another creepy dude comes in and locks the door. They circle the bathroom looking at all of the women in there, trying to decide which one they want to ‘have’ first and where they want to have her. I am still on the toilet, but decide that  I’m not going to be able to poop. I pull my pants up without anyone being able to notice, but I’m still on the pot. I’m still yelling at the assholes to unlock the door and get the hell out of the bathroom. The guys come over to me and decide  that they’ll have me. Just when I was getting ready to kick them in the ‘nads, I woke up.

Here are some things that bother me about this dream:

  • I’m sitting on the toilet out in the open in a public bathroom. Now that I am writing this down, I realize that this is a recurring theme. As long as I can remember, I have  had dreams about open public bathrooms.
  • Why am I the only one to speak up? I am the most vulnerable one of the bunch, sitting on the crapper. Everyone else is dressed and washing their hands or checking the mirror.
  • I keep running my mouth, thereby drawing more attention to myself.
  • None of the other bitches in the bathroom did anything to back my ass up. No one else said anything. Why didn’t anyone try to help me?
  • Why didn’t the store employee get security?

Ok. That’s my crazy fucked up dream. I want to know what this shit means. Now, I’m afraid to go to a public restroom. When I was in Kohl’s today, I almost pissed my pants. I had to check to make sure there wasn’t a bolt lock on the inside of the door of the bathroom.

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