FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

If you want, I can post on here why exactly you have impacted my life. If you aren’t on the list, I can still tell you something pretty awesome about yourself. Well… I can try but I’ve only got so much to work with, you know?

1.       Darla Blackmon

2.       Penny Bays

3.       Stevie Bays

4.       Terry Wallis

5.       Dreama Scott

6.       Morganna Marks

7.       Brittany Hawk

8.       Beau Jackson

9.       Rebecca Burch

10.   Eddie Flint

11.   Danielle Moore

12.   Lindsey Thomas

13.   Ariana Laster

14.   Sarah (Salli, Cat, etc.) Quinnelly

15.   Jeremy Schrader

16.   Aleah Walker

17.   Joscelyne Atkinson

18.   Jason Lilly

19.   Christine Weirick

Quote of the year, courtesy of a very good friend who’s going through some shit with a person she thought was a very good friend. (A curse upon that whore for making her cry):Swallowing your pride never hurt anyone, but it does leave a bad taste in your mouth.

An umbrella that I really, really, really need (10 Princess Points if you know what it says without looking it up): http://www.raindropsto.com/product/Adult_Umbrellas/Unique_and_Novelty/MIP_umbrella.html

“I don’t want to die anymore.” She whispers, looking up at me and feeling for the bullet hole in her shoulder. I can see white fragments in the pool of blood I’m sitting in and I think the bullet must have shattered Leslie’s collar bone.

Why does blood turn fabric brown, when on the ground in such great vast seas of it, it looks black? It seems blacker than the night sky looming overhead with the big white moon useless to aid my friend.

I shake my head. I disgust myself. She’s dying and I’m thinking about how to get blood stains out of my pants. I smooth her perfect almond-skin hair back from her china skin and smile at her. “It’s ok, kiddo. Just be still. No one is dying here tonight.”

I’m such a liar. Such a good, fucking liar.

She’s gasping now, touching the newborn baby pink  of the skin around the black hole that is her demise. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die anymore.”

“What do you mean ‘anymore’?” I ask. Will talking keep her alive of kill her? Is she going to pas out from blood loss or the effort of talking? Too late. Always too late, ‘cause now she’s whispering, loud enough for me to hear but not loud enough to be considered talking.

“I’ve been dead before. So dead, so before this. I’m dead right now. I’m going to be dead in few minutes,” I start to shake my head but she swallows hard and rasps a little and I shut my mouth. “Same old shit, you know? I can’t break the monotony. I can’t –‘scuse me, couldn’t– get out of that trap. All my mom’s pathetic attempts to make my dad love her while she makes excuses for his drinking problems and his abusive hands that fall on her. She conveniently forgets about his affairs, and while she’s forgetting about that, she forgets about me and Bry. That, paired with my stupid, sinking grades and all my stupid boyfriends. All the lovers I had, and not one that I loved half as much as Lee; is that irony or isn’t it. He’s the only one that didn’t deserve to kill himself,” She has this little moment of a hacking cough before continuing. “His death. Mom. Dad. School. Everything. Does it seem like everyone’s dying this summer, to you? I wanted to die, ‘cause I was so down. But not now. Not anymore.”

She blinks a lot after this. Like she didn’t expect to finish what she was saying. I’m a little surprised myself.

“I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. God! It hurts!” she says, clutching her hand over the wound and looking at me with wide, doe-like eyes. “Am I going to Heaven? I haven’t been too bad have I?”

“No.” I whisper, softly combing her hair and smiling even though I want to rip the drive-by shooters to shreds. Smile, even though I want to kill the paramedics who won’t get here in time. I comb her hair and whisper, “No. You’ve been so good. I know you’ll go to Heaven.  You’ve been too good, at least. You changed me, kiddo. Not many people have that on their resume. Not many people could pull that off.”

“I’m tired.” She says, her eyes closing slowly, trapping the fading light behind alabaster lids.

“It’s ok,” I say. “Go on to sleep, kid. I love you. See ya’ later.”

And her eyes close, and she falls just the tiniest bit off my lap before I clench her shoulders tightly and hoist her back up so that she’s leaning against my arm. Bleeding through the wound onto my sweater. I close my eyes and let the tears slide down my cheeks, wetting her hair, as the wail of an ambulance fills the parking lot where we lie.

So… apparently Rachael Ray signed a contract that allows her to appear in ads and marketing for Dunkin’ Donuts. (Can I just say its doughnuts not donuts, because otherwise it would be pronouced ‘do nuts’… which just sounds really filthy, doesn’t it?)

Does this seem evil to anyone else? I hate Rachael Ray! I hate her with a passion hotter than hell!! She is a stupid little twit who can’t cook and has one of those pill-head smiles. The kind of smile where you know she snorts Prozac, and that’s the only reason she’s smiling.                                             

I know that doughnuts are the most wonderful, soft, tasty, and warm invention that anyone has ever stumbled upon, but it’s not the doughnuts I’m worried about. It’s everything else on their menu. Out of morbid curiosity, I went to their website and after poking about for about five seconds, found the nutrition section. I was horrified, shocked, appalled, sickened, disgusted, stunned, and any other synonyms of the aforementioned words.       

The ingredients listed for the “Bacon Egg Cheese Croissant Sandwich” is, not only obnoxiously long, but is also hard to pronounce. What is Disodium Dihydrogen Pyrophosphate? I googled it, and guess what? In leather treatment, it can be used to remove iron stains on hides during processing! How handy. My main concern however, is what kind of iron stains do you have on a croissant that need removing in the first place? I’m utterly surprised that I didn’t find ‘crank’ stuck onto the list for good measure or something.       

The fact that Rachael Ray who, let’s face it, does have a loyal fan-base and who is trying to be a role model for kids, is going to be in commercials for Dunkin’ Donuts, basically telling children to eat foods that will stop their hearts faster than if Julia Child poured butter into an IV drip connected to their little chubby arms, seems morally unjust somehow.       

See, I have nothing against eating unhealthily and all that jazz, its just that I think you could make better, less heart attack inducing decisions – even fucking McDonald’s is better than Dunkin’ Donuts. I mean, in Dunkin’ Donuts “Supreme Omelet on a Croissant” (They seem to be found of them, don’t they? What the hell ever happened to biscuits?) there are 530 calories. In a BigMac, there are 540. Sure, as far as the words ‘disgusting’ and ‘ohmygodwhywouldyoueatthat???’ go, they’re equal… however, if you’re talking about the word ‘filling’, I’d probably eat the 10 extra calories, to get 30% more a meal.        

So, go ahead. Eat your Big Bacon Classics, your Filet-O-Fishes, your Classic Whoppers, but for the sake of Jesus Christ’s pogo-stick, do NOT eat fucking Dunkin’ Donuts. LEATHER TREATMENT, PEOPLE, LEATHER TREATMENT!!!     

Of course, maybe I’m a little biased, because I’m a Krispy Kreme girl, after all…