Yesterday Was Amazing!

I got to touch the hottest weapon EVER! It weighs about 6 to 8lbs. I AM IN LOVE!Look at it! Sigh. SO pretty! The guy at the gun store though I was nuts.

DETAILS:
Each titanium gold Desert Eagle .50AE pistol with the tiger stripes is different. With no two the exact same, since each ones finish is hand completed.

With the type of mask that is used to complete this finish, we can only offer it on the .50AE pistols. The .44 and .357 pistols have flutes on either side of the barrels. With the flutes the mask does not adhere properly and does not give a clean finish. (It would look more like fish striping than tiger striping!)

Random Shite

I can't sleep. Instead I'm going to post pictures.

I need a hair cut and I'm bored. I was looking through old pics and I must say,

I kind of miss the emover.

So ambiguous...or maybe just emo and boyish, whatever. I don't think any of these photos really capture the full glory that is: THE EMOVER.



So I was thinking about smallerizing my boobies. BEFORE YOU FREAK OUT, GUY FREINDS...Keep in mind that it is 4am, I can't sleep, and my knee and back hurt too bad to let me sleep right now, it's probably just the sleep talking. Plus, we all know if I had no boobs and ever fell on hard times, I'd just end up poor and titless. Sounds pretty lose-lose to me.

Just for hilarity, I figured I'd post some of my favorite silly pics.
This was taken at the petstore where I used to work (and yes, I did wear the tiara to work for no reason aside for me liking it because it was shiny). I am having a Fish Fight with myself. (What do you mean you can tell I was an only child?)

Then there is this:
This is hands down the best photo I have ever been in, IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!

The Employment Problem

It seems I am in a bit of a "situation". A very non-comedic situation, at that which I will have to say is rather a shame. A luck would have it, I am somewhat "under-employed", meaning I am still written on the shedule at work (in name only) they however will not actually give me any shifts to waitress or bar tend. That really sucks because I just spent $350 on re-newing my permit and I haven't even gotten the chance to make it back. BUT GET THIS: It is being justified as my not being fired, because I am still welcome to come in and "work" whenever I want. Yeah, thanks...AND YOU GUYS ARE STILL WELCOME TO KISS MY FUCKING ASS! That being said (and my mourning phase over losing the perfect job being not close to finished), I must promptly seek employment elsewhere or otherwise forget about going to the city anymore because it s far too expensive ($60) to be traveling round-trip without being compensated monetarily. And to make matters worse SG has rejected my last 2 sets. I mean, geeze! Give a poor girl a break will ya?!? BLAH!
Thus far I have this (as far as places to apply):
1.) Book Store
2.) Pet Store
3.) Vet
4.) Shooting Range
5.) Gun Store

I am open to suggestions.

WoW,

I hated high school so much!

I HEART HAND GUNS!

This gun makes me want to cream myself. LOOK AT IT!!! I need a gun, just like this one....or possibly like this one:
OR, OR, OR, THIS ONE:
Damn, I think I just had a multiple orgasm!

Ore-Oh NO!

Yeah, so oreos and soy milk...not the same.

OH MY F*CKING G-D!!!

EXPLICTIVES!!!!! I FORGOT, THIS REALLY SUCKS!

And after all that, I just went and had it out with my bag without wrapping my hands first and I now have 4 open knuckles. Oh, the fucking masochism!

I feel like I'm being censored all the time because there's so much I want to say and do and I can't. So instead I just am.

And I Just Can't Hide It...

Sometimes I wake up and I'm really fucking excited. I don't know why. Today was one of those days, which was somewhat suprising seeing as how I woke up alone. When I get in these moods I somewhat resemble a cheerleader who's been smoking crack and drinking coffee all day. I can't sit still, and I just want to fucking scream, and I want to scream at really high frequencies. Usually I can just grab a pillow and scream inot it, or close my mouth and do this little high pitched thing that's like screaming with your mouth closed. However, sometimes it just isn't enough. In that case, I usually opt to go and run around with my Great Dane Puppy Marley. So out I run and skip and hop in all my excitement, I jump around MArley, throw a toy for her to go get, and what response do I get? Marley lazily lifts her head and gives me a condesending look that says, "What is your problem? You really want me to go get that? Cause I'm laying here and there is no way I am getting up, Lady." I mean come on dog! You are my dog and are therefore obligated to certain things, such as loveing me and fucking plaing when I want to play. I defeatedly walk in the house and find the box of milk bones. I walk back outside and I'm excitedly greeted by Marley. "Oh, I see...I have the treats. Who's excited now bitch?"

Oh....

Dear Blog,
I'm sorry you are so ignored. And you understand that tonight I am only posting this much because 1.) I am sexually frustrated and 2.) Bored as fuck. XOXO.
-Miranda

So people on SG leave me crazy little poems and shit. It kinda freaks me out almost as much as people hugging me, but not quite. "Ally" just called me wanting to have some crazy girl party. And by party...I mean sex. I turned her down because I am not in town, I am studying alone while nursing a glass of vodka and Hi-C. "Molly" wanted to make a movie Wednesday night, but I turned her down for school work as well. WTF!?! I want to punch myself in the face right now, or go jump off a library. This is just ridiculous....

Ok, it is ridiculous. I must admit. But why doesn't this happen when I'm in the ATL? I mean seriously? It's only this excessive when I'm not there.

I'm done for now.

This Shit Just Kills Me:

I was trading pick-up lines with a buddy, so I said:
"Hey baby, does this smell like chloroform to you?"

And He came back with:
"your father must be a thief, because i saw him stealing from wal-mart"

It was so funny I spit the water I was drinking all over my keyboard. Mind you, this is also the friend who has a running bet about whether or not he can get a girl to call him "Gingus Kahn" during sex. I said, "If you're fucking her from behind and yell "MARCO" and she yells, "POLO" back, she's a keeper." We joke like that. Maybe it's funnier because he's Persian. And by Persian...I mean, a terrorist.

Apparently Andy likes this photo because it makes me seem endearing and almost human.

I Love It When...

People ask you questions, just so you have to ask them one back and then they can talk abotu themselves forever.

Sweet G-d!

It is 1:30 in the AM and I still can't fall asleep. I got a whole hour and a half since Monday. WTF!?! I actally passed up sex for studying today. It's official, I'm a loser. I hope me and my straight "A"s = No ass policy are happy. Fuck, I'm going to be some crazy teacher with a bunch of cats because I became abstinent in college in order to perfect my grades! No, no, I'm panicing. I must sleep.

My L.I.T. is Currently Teasing me Mecilessly......

For those of you that don't know what L.I.T. means, it stands for Lesbian in Training. Apparently she was a bit jealous that the last time we went out to a bar, I bought drinks for all the girls there, not just her. I responded to this by saying in my smoothest and most pimpette-type manner, "Look, baby. I'm not a player. I just crush a lot." Now I am sitting here writing about the conversation on my blog....Oh yeah, I got skillz. You Can't touch my game!

I had This Conversation today:

REX:If I ever meet David Blaine, I will give him the business like no other.
MOX: WTF?
REX: It means I want to do him. I thought you would find it humorous.
MOX: I understood that, but why? I prefer anglo ambiguous athiest hairdressers.
REX: DAVID BLAINE IS FUCKING MAGIC FOR CHRIST SAKE!!!

You Know how people always talk about...

things like putting on their "Nice" jeans? You know, you're going to a party and you're all, "Well what do I wear?" and they reply, "Wear like, a pair of nice jeans and a cute shirt."

I officially want a pair of "Mean" jeans.

I Just Came to a very Sudden and Emo Realiztion.

While doing homework and listening to the Postal Service's "Recycled Air". Could I be more Emo? Yes, actually I could go sit under a weeping willow tree and cry silently into my journal and then draw little broken hearts with my tear splatters on the pages. SO THERE!

My realization is this: I don't feel whole unless My heart is breaking. I need to be in pain the way I need oxygen. I don't know why. Maybe it is because I feel guilty for being completely happy, or maybe it's because I never talk about what's really going on, or maybe it's because my doctor gave me an anti-depressant and since I have a panic disorder and not depression anti-depressants make me sad as fuck. I am so emo! JESUS! I want to sit and cry, only I can't cry because I haven't gotten a "B" or a 4/5 on a class assignment in the last 5 days.

My Dad doesn't love me and I have no Mom. Today, I told a friend that I was going to write a book about my life and call it, "Sob-Story #151: BOO-FUCKIN-HOO". Fucking Prozac.I hate shrinks.