sad flavor of today.

From now on I'm not going to tell you whether or not I'm lying. My writing is going to get exponentially more brutal as I start losing interest in formality. Suck it up. I'm not here to write you an MLA style essay, I'm telling you a story with interruptions, pratfalls, bad grammar and even worse vulgarity. My vocabulary is pretty stellar but I'm going to sound like a three year old when I feel like it. It's my GREENsoftdrink and I'll spill it if I want to.

Quick disclaimer. NSFW unless you are blessed with one of those radly alternative ones; most of what I post will probably include if not entirely be written about a sexcapade of mine. I've enjoyed polygamy as much as I've enjoyed multiple orgasms. I am currently in a relationship, and as far as those go, I've never been a big fan. However, I find this one to be more than satisfactory. ( I am in love and I like writing about it. Another suck it up or stop reading disclaimer. )

When I said that I have a softporn life, I was only kidding inasmuch as it's only softporn when I'm wearing clothes. The rest of it is pretty XXX, Gossip Girl meets Friends, Girl Interrupted and Alfie for an orgy. And they invite their friends too.

But I'm not going to tell you a debauchery story right off the bat. I'm going to have a good complain first. Why? Because my boyfriend is taking a six month photo-journalistic trip with two old men to Argentina. He left Oct. 12th. Almost exactly a month ago. And is currently in Sacramento rebuilding his GS 500. I'm so fucking lonely/horny/sad/alcoholic. I haven't gone a single weekend without having an alcohol induced happy time. I've had mad fun at all the parties I've gone to. And then I get to come home and sleep by myself in a queen sized bed with two pillows. I hate it. Its the shittiest thing, I've discovered, waking up with the warm body of your significant other beside you for (almost) a year now, and then suddenly not for 6 months. I'm going to call my significant other Jared Green.
Since he's been gone I've had one websex chat with him, masturbated 3 times and wanted to rape several random but attractive men/boys at the various parties I've attended. I'm in nympho hell. A monogamous long distance relationship.
Shoot me now.
And now, for something completely different.

lies and green soft drink.

Listen carefully because the things I'm about to tell you are the largest compilation of lies and true stories about my life (and some other lives) that you're ever going to read. Why are you going to read this? Because taking a break from your life is going to make you realize how fanfuckingtastic it is. Especially when you read some of the shitty things I've been through and done in my glorified softporn of a life. 

I realized, if not early on enough, that your whole life should be written down. Not word for word, God no. Lie. Tell horrible, terrible, brilliant, heartwarming, catastrophic lies. Why and how can you do that? The only person that lived your life is you. The people in your life have not lived your life, they have lived their lives around yours. Your life is the most interesting, expensive thing that you have. It is also the most manipulatable, malleable thing you have (unless your female, then men and dicks take a really friggen close second). 

I'm gonna make you trust me first. I'm gonna tell you some truths. 

I'm a girl/woman/lady person. Double X chromo and all the bullshit hormones that come with it. I was blessed with a pretty face, almond eyes, a questionable nose and a pretty friggen great body (on a good day). My hair was short for a reason, but I'm not going to tell you that story yet.  My wardrobe is pretty boring nowadays, but I've never been what people would call a boring person. Unless you know, they were lying, in which case I'm lying too. 

You're eventually going to get why lying is so necessary in life. And I'm not going to say that honesty is overrated because its not, its great. Another truth, I work at a shoe store, and I fucking hate lying to people about the shitty shoes I sell them. I'm quitting my job. Because I like being honest. Honesty and lies, good and bad. Concepts. Things that would not exist without each other. We classify things by a process of elimination. By what something is not. We need things to check off the list. I'm not going to get philosophical because I'll make my head hurt and I'm still hungover. Ah, another little truth. I'm at an art university in British Columbia, Canada. Yeah, I'm a 'starving artist'; desperate, needy little mofucker. And never food, no, for ATTENTION. Good God are all these kids rich. I digress. This is the story of my life, as I see it, as I want you to see it, and as you will invariably see it.
I drink, fuck, sleep, take photo's and write papers. I work, piss, cry, read and make a mess. Among other things. you're WELCOME.