guess who's over at la casa de fernandez.

Sven: Hey, you know the TV show where they teach women to love their bodies?
Me: I want to have a tv show like that. I will say, “STOP BEING FAT” and whenever the women try to eat, I will zap them with a cattle prod. When they are a size 6, they’ll thank me.
*
My mom: So, Sven, where are you from?
Sven: My parents are Russian, but we lived in Philadelphia for fifteen years.
Me: Killadelphia.
Naz: Hey, you know what's the capital of Killadelphia? Shitsburgh.
*
Nick: This gathering is gayer than Elton John fisting Lance Bass while YMCA plays.
*
Nick: Bikini waxes hurt a lot, or so I've heard.
Naz: I have a VAG OF STEEL!
*
Me: I hate alarm clocks. I can't ever get up.
Sven: Sucks to be you. When I hear the alarm, I think, ‘YAY, SEX!’ and then, ‘YAY, COFFEE!’. I love mornings!
*
Nick: Chicks are a hassle. If I were a lesbian I’d just throw the chick a vibrator and an economy size pack of batteries and tell her to have at it while I went shopping. Wait, that sounds like the perfect relationship!
*
Sven: *checks his iTouch*
Nick: You and your robotic boyfriend... I'm so glad that doesn't have a penis.
Sven: Maybe there's an app for that.

Giggles from this afternoon.

Sven: Hey, do you think the neighbors heard us last night?
Nick: We were pretty loud, huh?
Sven: Maybe we ought to tone it down a little.
Nick: Fuck the neighbors. If I have to listen to them play Lady Antebellum, they can listen to me getting nailed.

*

Steph: I'll never know what it's like to be a man. And I don't want to.

Sven: No problem. Next time you have sex, just spray whoever you're doing in the face with one of those spray bottle thingies.

*

Steph: Geez, sorry I'm such a jackass.

Naz: Oh, babes, you're an asshole sometimes, but never a fucktard.

*

Sven: I like McDonald's nuggets in Russia better.

Me: They have McD's in Russia? And why not?

Sven: Because ours are made of chicken, and yours are made of... I don't know. Illegal immigrants. Or something.

*

Naz: You know, Sven and Nick, y'all always say how much you like fat chicks. It's probably because you don't have to fuck 'em.

*

Me: So then, I forgot if it was nPr or nCr.

Nick: NEVER FORGET OR THE TERRORISTS WIN!

*

Nick: I love him. *points to sexy black male model*

Sven: He looks like he talks too much.

*

Naz: You should just sneak up on her and jump her. Remember, it's not rape if you yell, "SURPRISE!"

*

Nick: Steph, I don't know how people read your handwriting.

Naz: They probably don't; they just think some Arab was really angry.

*
Sven: All lions are males
Steph: Where do baby lions come from then?
Sven: Then what are tigers?
Steph: Stripey
Sven: No, there's no such thing as a female lion. Thats why they call them the King of the jungle. Not the Queen of the jungle.

*

Steph: I want a tattoo.

Naz: I don’t like coloured tattoos. If you want a coloured tattoo, just get it done in black outlines and then you can colour it in with markers every day. That way you don’t have to worry about it fading.

*

Sven: I miss Michael Jackson.

Steph: Let me tell you my Michael Jackson story! This one time, I listened to a Michael Jackson album but I don’t remember which one now he is dead I am sad. The End!

*

Naz: Dolly Parton sure loved getting her tits out. Can't say I blame her.
Steph: Remember, it was the 80's. She was probably high the whole time.
Naz: I don't need to be high to get my tits out. I'm just high on the fact I have such awesome tits!

*

Naz: Look, a rainbow! That means people are having gay sex. Hope it’s two hot chicks.

*

Naz: *eats nuggets*

Me: I love watching you eat. You’re so cute. Like a monkey playing with Lego.

Five-picture post and update.

I went to sleep last night, at about 4:00 in the morning, because of these:

Lisbeth Salander is my fictional girlfriend.

And, well, Sexbox (my iPod), is... Sexbox, I guess?

Embarrassing confession: I was listening to Show Me Love by Robyn.

*blushes*

*

And then, at about 6:00 am, my dad decides it's funny to come into my room and take pictures of me when I'm sleeping, to try and wake me up for church.

(Epic fail, by the way, the second coming couldn't wake me.)

That is, till I woke up and whined so much that my mom came in and chased him away.

Ladies and gentlemen, my parents.

But he did manage to get this shot, though.

Look at how long and thick my eyelashes are here!!! :D

*

When I finally woke up, I realized I have exams tomorrow.

So I decided to do something that would calm me down.

What calms me down?

BRANDI CARLILE, OF COURSE!

I listened to her "Give Up the Ghost" album on repeat.

And that's my tired face.

Now, I kind of have "Oh Dear" stuck in my head.

It's this amazing song that she does almost all in falsetto.

Aaaaah, Brandi. :)

*dirty thoughts*

*

Then I decided that I kind of love Sexbox, so I took a picture of my legs with her.

For some reason, I keep thinking Sexbox is a girl.

Probably cause of the Marina and the Diamond lyrics;

"Look like a girl but I think like a guy."

I don't even know if that makes sense, so jyeah.

Sexbox's earphone wires didn't go the way I wanted them to, so I just left it.
I guess that's my influence.
In response, I became like my mother, and left that alone, and just took the picture.
(Apparently, taking baby pictures of me about seventeen years ago was hell on earth for her.)

*

Later, about dinnertime, we went for dinner at the Palace of the Golden Horses, because Aunty Mary and Aunty Beth were here, with Felicia.

Dont't.

Provoke.

The.

Fucking.

Unicorn.

(As you can see, I got my eye poked out).

.snippets from ani difranco's "shy"

the heat is so great,
it plays tricks with the eye,
it turns the road to water,
and then from water to sky.

*

i've got a dream of your face,

that scares me awake,

i put too much on my table,

and now i got too much a stake.

*

and i might let you off easy,

yeah i might lead you on,

i might wait for you to look for me,

and then i might be gone,

where i come from and where i'm going,

and i'm lost in between,

i might go up to that phone booth,

and leave a veiled invitation on you machine.

*

and you'll stop me, won't you,

if you've heard this one before,

the one where i surprise you,

by showing up at your front door,

saying 'let's not ask what's next,

or how, or why'

i am leaving in the morning,

so let's not be shy

*

and i roll over and taste the pillow with my grin,

well, the sheets are twisted and tangled,

and the heat is so great,

and i swear i can feel the mattress,

sinking underneath your weight,

oh sleep is like a fever,

and I'm glad when it ends,

and the road flows like a river,

and pulls me around every bend

*

and there's a crack in the concrete floor,

and it starts at the sink,

there's a bathroom in a gas station,

and i've locked myself in it to think.

I love it when you smell nice.

Your scent arouses me along with the way you walk, talk, the way you dress, the way you speak, and the way you look at me. Your lips are entrancing, I wish to touch them with softness, gentleness, and along with that embrace you whole with sensuality. I wish to be closer to you. I have the urge, all the time to touch your hand, to hold your arm, to wrap myself around you and smell your neck and kiss your jawline. In the mist of it all, I get nervous and hesitate to make the first move.

Dear Miss Fernandez:

This is your blog writing. Yes, I can write, and yes, I have a mind of my own. Never ever doubt it, and if the thought should cross your mind that this is Helen writing, you should banish it, because you would be dead wrong. This is me, your blog.

It has come to my attention that you have recently experienced a change of heart, effectively transferring your affections to a close friend of mind and thus abandoning me. It seems unfair that after all the time we have spent together enriching what lies between us, you have so quickly abandoned me and all we have shared over the years. I must ask that you return, if not permanently, then at least periodically, to continue to let me know what’s going on in your life. I understand that your last visit was not too long ago; however, I fear that our once-prosperous relationship is deteriorating at an alarmingly fast rate.

Yours truly,

Your Blog.