Black Betty – Ram Jam
So 70s, makes me think of the people who babysat us. They were serious white trash. These guys would have been considered the coolest of cool.
K and his friend A came in and went out. Came in again and went out. I was screaming about the bacon because the oven heats unevenly and the bacon was burning. If there’s a next time I’ll bake it on a much lower temperature. No wonder most of my dishes came out of that oven messed up. I thought that it was just a guessing game with the temperature dial which is so old it’s worn off.
F^ck you. Go play with your buddy. Yeah I’m not young and dumb and full of c0me like L used to say. I really wouldn’t want to be anyway no sour grapes here seriously. I don’t have the energy to relive those moments.
I have to admit I am annoyed because that skin condition came back. I want to rip a hole in my epidermis and cut the bubbly surface away like a bad fx job. My tongue has canker sores on it on both freaking sides because one side is not torturous enough. My finger nails are long enough for me to rip off a layer of my skin. Do I want impetigo again? No. Add to all this that throaty cough that comes and seizes me until I almost pass out. It’s almost like getting high and in some twisted way I’m not getting it treated because it’s the only rush I get lately. I almost feel proud of myself.
I saw the Kingsmen today with my sister at a Matinee. I actually liked the movie which surprised me. Many movies lately seem to be copies of better movies done poorly with bigger special FX budgets. It’s insulting to watch them for as much as a ticket is worth. I know that within 6 months they’ll be out on cable and I’ll catch they’re better counterparts on the boobtube before they hit that screen anyway. I hate it when I see the obvious screen formula of noble hero comes as underdog and from suffering but beats all odds to stand above evil. You can see where the screen writer adds (insert emotional heart string tugger here,) or (forbidden love scene stage left,) every thing is so obvious and trite.
All of this. It has all been said over and over in my head and I am too lazy to keep track of when I’ve written it down.
Wait. Does he have one friend over or more? He’s talking about his Grandmother and something that she has. You have to be careful here. People think that because of where we live we’ve got money. This house, full of junk can be perceived as full of treasure. Hell my father thought so but he was a hoarding bastard.
I don’t know they seem to all be talking about CNA jobs.
I just checked it out. It’s only K and A. I think I am paying too much attention to everything outside of my head expecting something hostile to happen. I think I’m seeing signs and counting omens. I’m going to go to bed. I have to work in the morning. I’m looking forward to the steaks marinating in chimichurri for tomorrow’s dinner.
I’d really like to tell my sister how much it crumples me inside that Mom pretty much favored her. I don’t envy her like I used to and I don’t hate her because of it. It just makes me feel invalid as an individual and i wonder if I really am that warped that Mom would see me as lacking as a human being. Needy. Disabled and broken. Is that really me? Am I lying to myself? Is my scream the cry of a disowned child and not the charge of a woman done wrong? What do I do? Do I wear the family motto of “Denial Does Us Best” proudly on my sleeve and slog on through my life? What is the alternative? Admitting I’m f^cked and just giving up? Is there something else here I’m not seeing?