Monday, January 18, 2010


Why am I awake at four fucking thirty in the morning?
This is bullshit, I have to go to work later.


  1. Anonymous5:40 AM

    It SUCKS when that happens man, I hate that. I get bouts of insomnia every coupla months and its the pits man. The easiest go to sleep TV site is CSPAN that I know of.

  2. Well I was up at five fucking thirty, and I don't even have to work today. Plus I'm getting a fucking cold...

  3. I'm up at four fucking thirty at least two days a week when I have to be at work at 7 for teleconferences. And no, I don't get out early, either.

  4. ... awake at four fucking thirty in the morning?

    Welcome to my world, homeboy.

  5. Babydoll, that's when I start getting ready to GO to bed. I worked the dog shift most of my life, it's just my body clock. Plus, the sun is not my friennnnd. Fry like a dead frog on a hot sidewalk.

    Decaf herbal tea with mugwort and/or valerian root always helps, and failing that, take a 3 mg pill of melatonin. It's cheap, natural, and harmless. And your whole body will relax better and you will get WAY more REM sleep than tossing & turning. Used to recommend benadryls, until my tolerance got so high that I was taking the MAXIMUM "recommended dosage" of that shit, and I started having facial/brain seizures.

    NOT FUN, very embarrassing. So fuck teh benadryls. Stick with the natural. But avoid generic "herbal blend" shit with valerian root, just get the STRAIGHT valerian, 'cause they put speed & unnecessary shit into those "blends," but most of all, I recommend the melatonin. It's the chemical that your brain produces anyway when it's beddy-bye time, so you're just reinforcing your brain's ability to invoke natural sleep.

    Enough "I'm not a doctor but I've never played one on TV" advice: yer in teh birfday post that's about to go up on M.O.B., so come by and see if ya like it.

    Ranty Aunty Annti

  6. I don't even start sleeping good until six. I get up at seven, groggy as hell, get cleaned up, get out of the Weasel Den at seven twenty, haul ass to work with a quick stop for a Coke and still have enough time to check all of your Blogs.
    I am such a whiny bitch.

  7. Then you need to follow your body clock or retrain it. I was born @ 12:12P, I was BORN a NIGHT PERSON, and was NOT AMUSED at being DISTURBED that early in the damned day.

    Either find a night gig, work the graveyard/dogs, or get the melatonin, baby. You ain't no spring chicken anymore, hon, ya can't live on an hour of sleep anymore. Fuck, after I got the sarcoid and the permanent neurological damage of trying to chemically-alter my body clock with pseudephedrine (yup, meth minus the antifreeze & rat poison), I had to GIVE THE FUCK UP and let my body have what it wants.

    Most of the radio gigs had dried-up by then anyway, so I was grasping at whatever shit jobs I could snag, days, nights, whatever. Selling plasma, you name it. At one point, living in a squat with no hot water or electricity, working 2 different temp agencies during the week and 2 different stations on the weekends. OODLES of fun! Then I got my spine broken, then the sarcoidosis, and couldn't keep a gig for shit because NOBODY in this joke of a state gives a FUCK about the Americans With Disabilities Act WHATSOFUCKINGEVER. If you're an Amazon who's not blind or deaf or in a wheelchair, YOU'RE JUST LAAAZZZYYYYYY. Misogyny, abuse, sexism, fat-discrimination, you name it. And people wonder how I'm 39 with a 200-year-old body; and of course, my so-called "relatives" still say that I'm "faking" and a "hypochondriac" who has multiple spine surgeries FOR SHITS & GIGGLES. I shit you not.

    Anyway, to do all of the manual-labor gigs that I was NOT physically-equipped to do, it took an assload of trucker-speed, ginseng, B-complex, you fucking name it, and all that did was fuck-up every nerve ending in my body, and occasional predictions that THOSE drugs PLUS 12+ years of the fucking PAIN meds are going to wind me up in Richard Pryor territory, only without the brilliant accomplishments or batshit-crazy "adventures."

    So don't do the speed, honey, please. 1. You get vertigo and have to give up caffeine, nicotine and/or trucker-speed/ginseng/ginkgo biloba. 2. Your ears start to lose their mid-range, and not just from old KOSS headphones from the '70s, and then comes the vertigo. 3. Then the home-electric-chair-from-the-inside evil borderline-seizure shit starts, and it's all the fucking way downhill from there.

    My life has proven to serve very little purpose, but at least learn from my mistakes, willya? SLEEP, GAWDLESSDAMMIT!!!!!! You HAVE to fucking SLEEP!!!!!!

    When I was 23 and pulling 18-hour shifts @ my first radio station, I said, "I'll sleep when I'm dead," like THAT'S original --- and now I'm paying for all of that wasted effort, love, work, elbow grease, technique, artistry, skill and marriage to the medium that was ALL taken AWAY FROM ME. Got nothing to show for the sacrifice but the scars, the crippleness, and the pain.

    Yeah, you gotta work to live, but you gotta SLEEP to live, too, dammit!!! (cont'd)

  8. (Cont'd)

    I wouldn't nag if I didn't care.

    Melatonin. Reasonable bedtime with a good Terry Pratchett book, one melatonin, but don't chase it with TOO much whisky (unless you're drinking bourbon, THAT'S how it's spelled!). PLEASE. Srsly. One good shot/highball on the rocks, but NOT A FULL HIGHBALL. You'll sleep longer than you'd ever imagined, and not in a good way. As I said, melatonin is safe, natural and harmless, but you don't mix ANY sleep aid with copious amounts of alcohol, 'cause it'll depress your breathing ability and you can just stop breathing. That's why they call alcohol a DEPRESSANT, not just 'cause it bums you out when you're heartbroken and missing the one who done you wrong.

    And if your ex can't handle being towed properly, can she even change a tire? Did she burn-out her brake shoes altogether or what?

    But if you wanna bail somebody out, baby, I WANNA JUMP THE LINE!!!!!! I have ten dollars to my name, one pack of cigarettes, (no, this ain't 'The Blues Brothers'!!!) and I need another 10 bucks to feed the semi-ferals outside here for the rest of the month, 'cause they're eating MY cats' food now, and that ain't kosher. And you gotta help me find a home for that feral clan, too, so when I *do* find a place to live, the Landskanky can't have them all murdered, as she has "disappeared" five of my other babies, especially my little tamed angels that I hand-raised from infancy, the fucking MASS-MURDERING WHORE.

    So if you're fiscally-liquid and feeling generous, you know damned well that I ain't too proud to beg. Can't put out anymore, but I could write you some porn for your own entertainment, if need be. Yes, WRITTEN porn, where the pictures are all in your HEAD (the one on your neck, with the allegedly bigger brain), and it's BETTER that way, anyway.

    A girl will do damned near anything for cigarettes and cat food.


    And come by and see your birfday post, y'heard me?