radio-christiane

i need help

fuck me raw bitch

which!

okay
random brazilians or
random street performers
or
LUKE FROM THE KOOKS
which would you choose?

i'm dangerous

so
saw hitchcock's vertigo on the big screen on rose wharf tonight
it was spantiffic
i'm also
REALLY BORED
i was so bored yesterday that i played with some kitchen knives
it was actually kind of fun
i've also decided what i want to be when i grow up:
A CURATOR AT A MODERN ART MUSEUM!!!!!!!
i love love love art.
if you love art then we are meant to be.
if you want to make me some art, well then YEEHAW please.
if you want to make some art of me...well i'd be flattered. :)

READ

I wake up, the familiar headache of a hangover squeezes around my brain and won't let go. I groan and feel around for my glasses.They are hideous. They are awful green, square things. I put them on and look at the clock, it reads 10:23 am. I groan some more for good measure and flop belly up onto my unmade bed that reaks of teenage angst.
This is how most saturday mornings are. I wake up after a night of illegal drugs, underage drinking and non-consensual sex with a splitting headache and botched memories of the previous night. My parents pretend not to know what's going on, but they do, they too were law-breakers and hooligans at the tender age of 17. They think that it would hypocritical if they told me to stop the shrooms and the beer. The one rule is that I must always make it home. No matter how late, I must wake up in my own bed. This sometimes proves difficult, but from a recent attempt to break the cardinal house rule, (I was grounded for a MONTH) I know that they are serious and
failure to comply will result in total social doom.
I can't afford too much social doom. After falling off the face of high school for a month, things change, and most of the time they don't change in your favor. When I was in sixth grade, I went on vacation to Bermuda and had to take a few days off from school. When I returned a week later, my best friend had forgotten me and moved on to the pink haired girl in my language arts class. If you've spent a week without a best friend you will understand my pain. Ever since I have been at every party, mixer, mosh pit and bonfire that has ever been organized by my circle of friends. I suppose we are somewhat important.On the social scale of 0 to 10 we are probably an 8, because we've got guys. Total plus.
The social scale decides who goes where, like who can go to which parties and bonfires and beach parties etcetera. See, if you are part of a group that is rated like a 6, you can only to go to gatherings thrown by groups rated 6 or below, unless you are invited. So like those uber popular jerk-offs rated 10 can do whatever they damn well please. The fucked up thing is, THEY ARE THE CREATERS. I mean, the ratings aren't written down anywhere, its just known I suppose. It sucks. It fluxuates. It's high school.
I roll around in my bed somemore. I yawn and then curl into the fetal position. I hate hangovers. My mother knocks on the door. Good morning, she says in her sugary southern accent. My mother grew up in New Orleans. My mother is beauitful. My father comes out from behind the door. His gray hairs are much more visible now. He looks old, weathered, like a tarp. Ladies and gentlemen meet My FAther the Tarp. You can tell my father used to be a handsome man. He is a thorough bred New England prepster. Geez. How many polos can one man own? I swear to Yawah, he has a whole closet devoted to these THINGS. I have sworn to only wear them for my Nana Rose. My mother and father met at a college mixer. My mother went to Radcliffe and my father a Harvard boy. Back then, the schools were still gender segragated. My mother was a pretty political science major, my father a handsome business student. A match made in heaven. Exactly nine months after the wedding, my older brother Jack was born. Jack is my best friend. He gave me my first drink. I go to college parties because of him. Not to mention, he is incredibly smart. He's kind of an asshole, but his popularity in high school secured my status. And the fact that he was a senior when I was a freshman helped. He was able to influence a lot of people. Thanks Jack, I owe ya one. Anyway, I look up at my mother, in her frosting pink pajamas and gargle something in audible. I am not ready to face the world. Last night seems as if it never happened. It is not until later that I realize I had my first black out.

:(

life sucks
deal

poo

I HATE MS HEBRA
SHE'S A BITCHY WOMAN WITH A CHIP ON HER SHOULDER BECAUSE SHE WORKS AT A BOARDINGN SCHOOL WITH OVERPRIVLEDGED JERKOFFS.
I'M THROUGH WITH THAT SCHOOL
they kicked me out anyway
thanks bitch

yummy

okay
got most of them back


you know i love you so make me feel special and leave all those yummy comments

yummy yummmy

xx

ugh poo

okay
i'm having some problems

BOLT DELETED ALL MY PHOTOS

bare with me while i attempt to reupload them all

this could take a while

i was thinking about weeding out bad ones anyways
once they are all up, you can go and leave all those yummy comments for me again
so that i can feel special

xx

WHA?

I LOVE LIFE


MEHAHAHAHAHAH

i woke up in a bathtub this morning
with a boy
uhhhh ooops?

i had a bruise on my hip and a few on my knees and elbows.
WHAT DID I DO LAST NIGHT?

boysssssssssssssss

boys are sucky
a poem by sarah

i don't like boys right now
they suck
and they make me sad
and then
they think its funnny when they pin me to a wall
and spill their beers on me
its not funnny
dickwad


thank you for listening we will now return to your regularly scheduled broadcast