Well, it's happened. I'm offically old. I have so many damn medications to take, (vitimins included, so that doesn't make me feel too bad) that I had to go out and buy a pillbox. The little flip top plastic Monday through Sunday kind designed for the elderly so that they don't forget the exact dose of their medications, potentially forget them, then take them twice or three times as day, threrefore overdosing like the good old King of pop. Oh yeah I went there. Too soon? Too presumptive?

Not that I didn't like Michael's songs in high school and sometime afterward, Smooth criminal being one of my favorites ...but unfortunately I think we all know that's how he went out. I have a feeling his personal physician is gonna be in some boiling hot water. Prescription drugs are simply way too easy to acquire. Especially in Hollywood. I know first hand about this ease as I once had a 'friend' who literally washed down her cocktails with about fifteen to twenty vicodin a day.

But if you really think about it, did the majority of people want to see Michael Jackson lose his 'eternal youth' by living to an ancient age, melting into a puddle of botched plastic surgery goo? Like Kurt Cobain once noted,courtesy of James Taylor ( I believe?) 'It's better to burn out than fade away.' I completely agree. I just wish Michael didn't pay off the two families of the kids he allegedly molested. Yeah, I'm going there too. All I know is if I were innocent of those charges, I would fight tooth and nail in court to prove my innocence, not hand over money to shut the accusers up. Love them or not, you just don't touch kids in that way. Many classic pedophiles only identify with children, prefering their company to that of adults as they believe that they too, are children inside. Ouch, sound familiar? Anyway, when he died, I happened to flash upon Disneyland, and the Captain EO 3-d movie that he starred in there. That was eons ago, and at the time was one of the coolest things I had seen.

Back to the aged, my father at 83, is the epitome of 'old guy'. He's pretty crotchedy, forgetful and untrustful now. Pops is convinced that everytime something breaks in his apartment, my husband or I must have been the culprets. Yesterday while cleaning his bathroom I noticed that the faucet in his sink was so loose that it was ready to come off in my hand. When asking about it, I get the old 'It wasn't like that this morning.' Gahh. His computer mysteriously turns itself on during the night, not because he forgot to turn it off, but because I sneak over to his place to use it at 2:00 Am. I'm throwing away food from his refrigerator now and it drives him up the wall. That package of lunch meat is still good! Dad, it's dated March 11th. He uses Purell hand cleaner as soap, keeps EVERY bit of junk mail he recieves, buys box after box of cereal though he always has a dozen in his pantry. I got a good deal on it! He says proudly. I found ice cream in the fridge, and bananas in the freezer, and my dear father, bless his heart, sleeps with a bar of soap tucked under the sheets at the foot of his bed to ward off leg cramps. It's a old fashioned remedy you see. Who knows, maybe it works. I'm not one to argue old fashioned remidies, though I tease him mercilessly. My father doesn't really believe in depression or any other such mental illness. People need to just buck up, or grow up, or whatever. He is convinced that I should of had children. They would have taken care of all my problems, because motherhood would have given me something to make me truly happy. *Bangs head on wall.* As much as he drives me apeshit, I love the old guy. He's pretty cool. He has a girfriend, still plays golf, and enjoys his two drinks of whisky and water every night. I dig the big band music he plays on his jukebox styled cd player, even though it confuses him when I say that I have heard half of those songs before on old Warner bros. cartoons. He's as generous as the day is long, and when he sees that I am truly sad, tries his best to comfort me.

I don't want to lose him. It's starting to become a constant worry for me. I thought that after my mother died I would be able to handle anything that life threw at me in the future. Not so sure now..

Back to writing, and drawing, and losing thoughts.



bone love!



kaleesh love






It's better to have crumbs in peace than a banquet with strife.