I didn't know that Heather Smith knew my middle name, and as it turns out, she didn't. She guessed. I am indeed Carolyn Anne, a southern bell with southern morals. Just wanting to please her man as a good housewife. My mom hates her southern roots, but that makes me wonder: Why did she name her daughter Carolyn Anne?
The past few days have been dedicated to watching sexually explicit television. Cathouse, Johns and Hookers, Real Sex 18... It doesn't matter which, it's entertaining, naked, and often includes the comforting buzz of the prostitutes vibrator.
I wonder: What kind of men drive up the street looking for a thirty dollar blow job? Losers? Pervs? Or is it your husband? And who are the women... maybe your mom...
I never knew Heather was genuinely nice.
I HAVE A COMPLAINT
I wish I didn't have to write a letter like this one, but recent events leave me no choice. The key point of the following exposition is that we are at war. Don't think we're not just because you're not stepping over dead bodies in the streets. We're at war with Miss Carolyn Ann Barry's unruly treatises. We're at war with her insidious manuscripts. And we're at war with her neo-censorious refrains. As in any war, we ought to be aware of the fact that there's something fishy about Carolyn's quips. I think she's up to something, something abusive and perhaps even garrulous.
Carolyn has a talent for inventing fantasy worlds in which she's the best thing to come along since the invention of sliced bread. Then again, just because Carolyn is a prolific fantasist doesn't mean that her causeries provide a liberating insight into life, the universe, and everything. She lives in a world of privileged emotion devoid of any connectable empirical dots. For proof of this fact I must point out that her argument that freedom must be abolished in order for people to be more secure and comfortable is hopelessly flawed and entirely circuitous.
You may wonder why Carolyn's admirers believe that those rights and protections which give us voice in a democratic society are the cause of Jacobinism and social chaos and must be thwarted or dismantled. It's simply because I like to face facts. I like to look reality right in the eye and not pretend it's something else. And the reality of our present situation is this: You should never forget the three most important facets of Carolyn's press releases, namely their untrustworthy origins, their internal contradictions, and their tendentious nature. The biggest supporters of Carolyn's irrational, polyloquent op-ed pieces are prurient beatniks and ethically bankrupt, unbridled cockalorums. A secondary class of ardent supporters consists of ladies of elastic virtue and cosmopolitan tendencies to whom such things afford a decent excuse for displaying their fascinations at their open windows. Finally, whatever your thoughts or feelings about Miss Carolyn Ann Barry are, I urge you to help me throw down the gauntlet and challenge Carolyn's mercenaries to oppose evil wherever it rears its effrontive head.
Its been awhile.
Blog, you've been missing out on a substantial period of my life. And Heathers life. And everyone's, because really, isn't every moment of every life substantial? Of course not, that's just stupid. Illinettes and Chi-Tea's don't have meaning, and neither do you. Not you, blog, I was talking to the person behind you. Oh, and I was asleep when you called.
"You're everything I want and nothing I need..."
We are watching that damn MTV show about fake high school dancers/musicians. "You're everything I want and nothing I need" Uh oh uh oh uh oh.
By we, I mean myself, Nic, and Alyssa. Not Heather. Because Heather is a stupid cunt. Or crewing. Whatever.
Tequila and pink lemonade,
sore throat sniffle and blow.
Orange pants, gray pants.
Blue shirts all around.
The jewish spinner
is for dinner.
Millionaire matchmaker takes the stage.
You're a bitch.
By we, I mean myself, Nic, and Alyssa. Not Heather. Because Heather is a stupid cunt. Or crewing. Whatever.
Tequila and pink lemonade,
sore throat sniffle and blow.
Orange pants, gray pants.
Blue shirts all around.
The jewish spinner
is for dinner.
Millionaire matchmaker takes the stage.
You're a bitch.
Oh dear. Easter Sunday. Everyone's gone. Carolyn's here working. By working I mean sitting, watching Desperate Housewives, drinking beer. Oh fuck it, I worked a little. Productive Productive Productive. Feels so good, hate that it does.
Let us take bets... paper done... tomorrow at noon? Tomorrow night? Will I find another wind after this beer to write miraculous words concerning the role of improvisation in dance technique? I hate dance technique anyway. That's not true. I hate cocky diva know it alls, but that's beside the point. Hmm, almost midnight, my new daily sudoku will be up soon. Then maybe I'll write 300 words more.
Let us take bets... paper done... tomorrow at noon? Tomorrow night? Will I find another wind after this beer to write miraculous words concerning the role of improvisation in dance technique? I hate dance technique anyway. That's not true. I hate cocky diva know it alls, but that's beside the point. Hmm, almost midnight, my new daily sudoku will be up soon. Then maybe I'll write 300 words more.
Advice? I got it.
And for you:
Any foul smell seeping from your pores, accumulating especially in soft tissue folds, such as armpits, behind the knees, and between the cheeks of your butt can typically be eliminated with soap, in either gel or bar form. If the foul smell lingers and begins to affect your daily activities, sexual health, or personality. It is time to see a doctor.
The doctor will likely tell you to shut the fuck up and stop your whining, because it's your own damn fault that you have a foul personality. It's your fault that you don't want to have any fun and you can't take anything like you take shots.
Doc'd tell you that you complain too much and have nothing short of stupid ideas. Doc would smack you in the face for your creepy fingers and knock you out if the appointment took more than an hour.
Any foul smell seeping from your pores, accumulating especially in soft tissue folds, such as armpits, behind the knees, and between the cheeks of your butt can typically be eliminated with soap, in either gel or bar form. If the foul smell lingers and begins to affect your daily activities, sexual health, or personality. It is time to see a doctor.
The doctor will likely tell you to shut the fuck up and stop your whining, because it's your own damn fault that you have a foul personality. It's your fault that you don't want to have any fun and you can't take anything like you take shots.
Doc'd tell you that you complain too much and have nothing short of stupid ideas. Doc would smack you in the face for your creepy fingers and knock you out if the appointment took more than an hour.
I have advice for you
Any type of foul odor is indicative of infection and needs to be evaluated by a doctor. A doctor will need to perform and evaluation to determine what type of infection is present, so the proper treatment can be prescribed. The two most common infections are yeast and bacterial vaginosis. A yeast infection has symptoms of a yeast type odor, itching around the vaginal opening and surrounding area, and a cottage cheese type discharge. BV has a fishy type odor, and the discharge can either be yellow, green, or white. In the meantime, make sure you eat a balanced diet. Cotton underwear is also helpful in preventing moisture from developing. Make sure after going to the bathroom that you wipe from front to back. In the mean time refrain from any type of douching, as douching can not only disrupt the normal pH of your body, but can also make it more open to infection. Avoid use of any types of feminine sprays, talcs etc as they can also disrupt the normal balance. Also avoid any type of scented toilet paper.
Any type of foul odor is indicative of infection and needs to be evaluated by a doctor. A doctor will need to perform and evaluation to determine what type of infection is present, so the proper treatment can be prescribed. The two most common infections are yeast and bacterial vaginosis. A yeast infection has symptoms of a yeast type odor, itching around the vaginal opening and surrounding area, and a cottage cheese type discharge. BV has a fishy type odor, and the discharge can either be yellow, green, or white. In the meantime, make sure you eat a balanced diet. Cotton underwear is also helpful in preventing moisture from developing. Make sure after going to the bathroom that you wipe from front to back. In the mean time refrain from any type of douching, as douching can not only disrupt the normal pH of your body, but can also make it more open to infection. Avoid use of any types of feminine sprays, talcs etc as they can also disrupt the normal balance. Also avoid any type of scented toilet paper.
Fucking Bitch Ass Cunt Slut Vagina Piece Of Shit Asshole Not Big Enough Dick Whore
Why the fuck do we wear wedding rings?!?!?! Because the fucking north African old time folk believed the circle was a sign of eternity... therefore representing love. Fuck why not a bracelet? Necklace? Halo? Handcuffs? Get fucking creative lunatics. God Damnit.
FUCK YOU
I love Hippos.
I might commit suicide tonight.... and if not.... I'll probably do something really really dumb.
I don't mind saying this cause no one reads this shit anyways. Assholes.
I don't fucking care what you think about me. Honestly I don't. You're a whore.
I sometimes wish I had a dick so i could slap you with it.
I think you smell like dick clarks tiny dinglberry.
I never wanted to be your friend.
I love seals.
Why the fuck do we wear wedding rings?!?!?! Because the fucking north African old time folk believed the circle was a sign of eternity... therefore representing love. Fuck why not a bracelet? Necklace? Halo? Handcuffs? Get fucking creative lunatics. God Damnit.
FUCK YOU
I love Hippos.
I might commit suicide tonight.... and if not.... I'll probably do something really really dumb.
I don't mind saying this cause no one reads this shit anyways. Assholes.
I don't fucking care what you think about me. Honestly I don't. You're a whore.
I sometimes wish I had a dick so i could slap you with it.
I think you smell like dick clarks tiny dinglberry.
I never wanted to be your friend.
I love seals.
Umbrella. My Umbrella.
"A negative is thirsty..."
When did suspenders hit the hay, anyway? Don't we all need our pants held up? I've been using my sweat pants draw, but it creates an unwanted home boy slump. I hate the home boy slump.
Now let's stop eating ice and bitch slapping, because millionaire matchmaker is on, and so is taking the stage. And Heather Smith's got her umbrella all fucked up but nobody cares because so-and-so is crying about not being memorized.
When did suspenders hit the hay, anyway? Don't we all need our pants held up? I've been using my sweat pants draw, but it creates an unwanted home boy slump. I hate the home boy slump.
Now let's stop eating ice and bitch slapping, because millionaire matchmaker is on, and so is taking the stage. And Heather Smith's got her umbrella all fucked up but nobody cares because so-and-so is crying about not being memorized.
Tonight's turn table topic:
"We are so cool, why don't people follow us?" Sid and I have come upon the realization that nobody reads our blog.
I (Carolyn) think that our popularity may pick up after the publication of our book "Harnessing the Hoot; The Art of Humor and Modern Dance."
Miss Congeniality 2 and glasses of wine are a sleepy way to spend Friday night.
What do we think of that NuvaRing commercial where they sing the days of the week? I love it. Sid does not. You drunk bastard.
"We are so cool, why don't people follow us?" Sid and I have come upon the realization that nobody reads our blog.
I (Carolyn) think that our popularity may pick up after the publication of our book "Harnessing the Hoot; The Art of Humor and Modern Dance."
Miss Congeniality 2 and glasses of wine are a sleepy way to spend Friday night.
What do we think of that NuvaRing commercial where they sing the days of the week? I love it. Sid does not. You drunk bastard.
Buying the Cow, I want to Marry Ryan Banks, and Toddlers and Tiaras
"I'm so hung over right now that I think I'd be considered drunk anyways."
7pm has been declared an acceptable bedtime. It's currently 5:05, and Sid and I are struggling to make it.
The topic on the turn table today is Toddlers and Tiaras.
Heather declares that this is white trash. Lady on the tv brags about the family and community bonding.
Grandpa's going to teach a seven year old how to shake it.
7pm has been declared an acceptable bedtime. It's currently 5:05, and Sid and I are struggling to make it.
The topic on the turn table today is Toddlers and Tiaras.
Heather declares that this is white trash. Lady on the tv brags about the family and community bonding.
Grandpa's going to teach a seven year old how to shake it.
A glass of wine, a cup of tea.
Heather has neglected you.
That cunt. That bitch. That lactating hoe.
Kitty cats and match.com.
Walking pneumonia wouldn't keep me away,
but cunt-face sits, on youtube, alone.
Because of my great loyalty to you, blog,
I sit and write, faithfully and predictably
on this Thursday night.
Butternut squash, nutter fut laush,
wine washes down the words.
Quiet apartment, buzzing fridge,
kitty cats, and match.com
Sid's tits keep milking and I
keep typing
Because drunk isn't even the word.
Walking pneumonia
the breakfast song.
Whistle and mother kept saying
the wine washes down the words.
Cunt.
That cunt. That bitch. That lactating hoe.
Kitty cats and match.com.
Walking pneumonia wouldn't keep me away,
but cunt-face sits, on youtube, alone.
Because of my great loyalty to you, blog,
I sit and write, faithfully and predictably
on this Thursday night.
Butternut squash, nutter fut laush,
wine washes down the words.
Quiet apartment, buzzing fridge,
kitty cats, and match.com
Sid's tits keep milking and I
keep typing
Because drunk isn't even the word.
Walking pneumonia
the breakfast song.
Whistle and mother kept saying
the wine washes down the words.
Cunt.
Gettin' there
It's 10:40am.
I woke up a while ago and have been lying in bed. I need to poop, but somebody is in the shower. It would probably be rude to intrude on somebodies shower with a disgusting morning-after-red-wine poop.
God, it's 10:40am and I am talking about disgusting poop.
We can backtrack a little to the red wine. I went on a walk yesterday and came back with two bottles of it. That should get me through this week.
I hate that all I think about is getting through things.
I woke up a while ago and have been lying in bed. I need to poop, but somebody is in the shower. It would probably be rude to intrude on somebodies shower with a disgusting morning-after-red-wine poop.
God, it's 10:40am and I am talking about disgusting poop.
We can backtrack a little to the red wine. I went on a walk yesterday and came back with two bottles of it. That should get me through this week.
I hate that all I think about is getting through things.
Gulp
Let's be quick about this, because I have very little time before ballet.
"Gulp, heart attack, diarrhea."
Do you remember this from comp the other day?
This spoke to me, and made me wonder: why is it that so many events in your life make you want to gulp, heart attack diarrhea? Why can't we take, even the chaotic, with more ease? This is my goal. My reactions will now end with the gulp and don't make there way under my ribs for that awful heart leaping out of you chest and dragging on the floor sort of feeling. I certainly am going to try to not let anything except for perhaps my alcohol consumption effect my bowels.
I drank a large glass of wine and watched "I am Sam" alone in my bed last night.
Don't judge me.
"Gulp, heart attack, diarrhea."
Do you remember this from comp the other day?
This spoke to me, and made me wonder: why is it that so many events in your life make you want to gulp, heart attack diarrhea? Why can't we take, even the chaotic, with more ease? This is my goal. My reactions will now end with the gulp and don't make there way under my ribs for that awful heart leaping out of you chest and dragging on the floor sort of feeling. I certainly am going to try to not let anything except for perhaps my alcohol consumption effect my bowels.
I drank a large glass of wine and watched "I am Sam" alone in my bed last night.
Don't judge me.
Carolyn - I congratulate the fact that you were once sober on a Saturday afternoon writing about something we did while sober, created while sober, performed while horribly hungover, and in which we talked about the fact that we were so drunk when we showed up to perform we did not have our costumes or props and that you were in the same clothing (plus a mens T shirt) as you were the night before.
MOVING ON
I have the mean reds.
People are dumb. People don't take responsibility for their own lives. People always have to find something to complain about. People are childish. People take themselves entirely too seriously. People don't take their actions serious enough. People judge without even questioning themselves. And the worst of them all.... People 'live' their life just going through the motions.
Nudity - the state of wearing no clothing. The term is also sometimes used to refer to wearing significantly less clothing than expected by the conventions of a particular culture and situation, and in particular exposing the bare skin or intimate parts, and has analogous uses. In this sense it is related to the concept of modesty.
Fuck modesty. Fuck culture. Fuck 'intimate parts.' Fuck clothing. Fuck conventions.
This ..... all these things have been created in our minds. Who says you have to be modest??? O your mother? Yes mine says that too. But are we born to listen to what our mothers say... who are just saying what their mothers said because it's a part of our culture? Our culture is created by us.... yes this is right.... you and me create what we live in. This means we can also change it. The fact that 'intimate parts' are 'intimate' and private was created years ago by people like us who got wrapped up in the idea of a civilized culture. Don't even get me started going down the road of who created the definition of 'civilized' and why 'uncivilized' has become such a negative term. Back to nudity.... there are laws against public nudity. Laws are just words.... words were created so that people could communicate what they think... words were not created to give boundaries... it was to open up possibilities... laws are a part of our culture... our culture is civilized.
Do people not realize that here we are here living in a big fucking circle. A circle with depth and contradictions. We all make decisions for ourselves. We all have our boundaries. But do we realize how this affects others around us and how much were contributing to having this so called 'culture' of which we live?
Post Script - I at this time refuse to talk about religion and this subject. But if you were in my mind right now I have a feeling you would be very scared.
MOVING ON
I have the mean reds.
People are dumb. People don't take responsibility for their own lives. People always have to find something to complain about. People are childish. People take themselves entirely too seriously. People don't take their actions serious enough. People judge without even questioning themselves. And the worst of them all.... People 'live' their life just going through the motions.
Nudity - the state of wearing no clothing. The term is also sometimes used to refer to wearing significantly less clothing than expected by the conventions of a particular culture and situation, and in particular exposing the bare skin or intimate parts, and has analogous uses. In this sense it is related to the concept of modesty.
Fuck modesty. Fuck culture. Fuck 'intimate parts.' Fuck clothing. Fuck conventions.
This ..... all these things have been created in our minds. Who says you have to be modest??? O your mother? Yes mine says that too. But are we born to listen to what our mothers say... who are just saying what their mothers said because it's a part of our culture? Our culture is created by us.... yes this is right.... you and me create what we live in. This means we can also change it. The fact that 'intimate parts' are 'intimate' and private was created years ago by people like us who got wrapped up in the idea of a civilized culture. Don't even get me started going down the road of who created the definition of 'civilized' and why 'uncivilized' has become such a negative term. Back to nudity.... there are laws against public nudity. Laws are just words.... words were created so that people could communicate what they think... words were not created to give boundaries... it was to open up possibilities... laws are a part of our culture... our culture is civilized.
Do people not realize that here we are here living in a big fucking circle. A circle with depth and contradictions. We all make decisions for ourselves. We all have our boundaries. But do we realize how this affects others around us and how much were contributing to having this so called 'culture' of which we live?
Post Script - I at this time refuse to talk about religion and this subject. But if you were in my mind right now I have a feeling you would be very scared.
Sober
It's possible that this particular post will become very valuable one day. Why? It's rare. This is the first of probably few sober posts by Carolyn Barry.
Today Heather and I performed a duet in production. It wasn't really a duet for a few reasons:
- There were more than two people in it, if you think about the gel changers, Maggie, who was an important viewer, and Melissa, who kept talking to us.
- Duet might imply that it was a dance, and a dance might imply that it was choreographed, and this didn't have any pas de bourrees.
I guess for some of those same reasons and more it wasn't a performance either.
Anyway, really I wanted to write this blog to let Heather know of some of the changes I made:
I edited some of the posts.
I changed the settings to include that this blog covers adult topics, so readers will see a warning before the can read on.
I can either invite e-mail addresses to approve readers, or make it public. Thoughts?
Today Heather and I performed a duet in production. It wasn't really a duet for a few reasons:
- There were more than two people in it, if you think about the gel changers, Maggie, who was an important viewer, and Melissa, who kept talking to us.
- Duet might imply that it was a dance, and a dance might imply that it was choreographed, and this didn't have any pas de bourrees.
I guess for some of those same reasons and more it wasn't a performance either.
Anyway, really I wanted to write this blog to let Heather know of some of the changes I made:
I edited some of the posts.
I changed the settings to include that this blog covers adult topics, so readers will see a warning before the can read on.
I can either invite e-mail addresses to approve readers, or make it public. Thoughts?
*Alcohol and blogs go together like fine wine and dark chocolate.
Story of my life. If I could sit down nightly with a glass.... okay a 'few'... glasses of wine and my computer and some good company (tonight that company is LOST...John is totally Jesus. & Jesus is my loudest friend according to facebook) I would be a happy gal. Not saying that I'm not a happy gal, cause I am. Happy Happy Happy (just keep repeating it and the universe makes it true). I want some brandy.... some quality brandy, on the rocks. Goes down smooth like caramel. Anyways.... back to the point. Here I am... writing a blog.... what is a blog? Not that if i actually knew a definition of a blog that I would follow the rules that come along with it. I would probably do the exact difference. But still... I would like to know exactly.... what a blog is. Let's see if Wikipedia has an answer for us..... oooo the word 'blog' is a contraction of the word 'weblog' and you can talk about themes like travel, politics, basically any particular subject. But because Carolyn and I hate setting restrictions on ourselves.... I believe our blog falls under the theme of "diary." I hate that word tho. Cause I don't want to tell you about my life, even tho I'm sure it will come out in the way i approach other topics.... but we (Carolyn and I) will probably cover any topic we want. So themes... are unnecessary. unhelpful. annoying. Sounding alot like definitions or rules when it comes to choreography. But now that I know where the blog and I stand. I'm sure I'll feel comortable visiting here soon.
Jack and Jill went up the hill - who came up with that nursery rhyme... honestly. ew.
Leap of faith- maybe ill cover this in my next entry
Story of my life. If I could sit down nightly with a glass.... okay a 'few'... glasses of wine and my computer and some good company (tonight that company is LOST...John is totally Jesus. & Jesus is my loudest friend according to facebook) I would be a happy gal. Not saying that I'm not a happy gal, cause I am. Happy Happy Happy (just keep repeating it and the universe makes it true). I want some brandy.... some quality brandy, on the rocks. Goes down smooth like caramel. Anyways.... back to the point. Here I am... writing a blog.... what is a blog? Not that if i actually knew a definition of a blog that I would follow the rules that come along with it. I would probably do the exact difference. But still... I would like to know exactly.... what a blog is. Let's see if Wikipedia has an answer for us..... oooo the word 'blog' is a contraction of the word 'weblog' and you can talk about themes like travel, politics, basically any particular subject. But because Carolyn and I hate setting restrictions on ourselves.... I believe our blog falls under the theme of "diary." I hate that word tho. Cause I don't want to tell you about my life, even tho I'm sure it will come out in the way i approach other topics.... but we (Carolyn and I) will probably cover any topic we want. So themes... are unnecessary. unhelpful. annoying. Sounding alot like definitions or rules when it comes to choreography. But now that I know where the blog and I stand. I'm sure I'll feel comortable visiting here soon.
Jack and Jill went up the hill - who came up with that nursery rhyme... honestly. ew.
Leap of faith- maybe ill cover this in my next entry
Thesis slumber
• Video's (Heather in a bottle)
• Blogs
• Food
• Optional sleeping
• Some dancin'
• 12am-8am
• Blogs
• Food
• Optional sleeping
• Some dancin'
• 12am-8am
Heather thinks she dances for Mark Morris
Delusional: Heather Smith's life.
Hello blog.
It's been awhile since either Heather or I have visited you. Now I, Carolyn, am here with Heather, Melissa, and our sober roommate, Nichole Marie Johnson.
It's a Monday night.
I have never been this drunk on a Monday night.
Currently we are planning our weekend-- wait-- now we are complaining about the hip hop guest artist.
Hip hop/contemporary? What the fuck is that? She isnt good at contemporary and she's a bitch.
This woman kept us ten minutes after class because she wouldn't let us leave until we were good enough for her. She is from Manhattan. She is a cocky mother fucker.
I'm still stuck on this guest artist, but the others have moved on to our classmates touching their own vaginas.
Heather and I are presenting a duet on Saturday for Production. It may involve this blog. We should probably be drunk for production.
Melissa is starting another beer. Heather and I are too drunk already.
Let's talk about the fact that we are drunk on a Monday night. It's because of mine and Heathers rehearsal. I don't know what Melissa's excuse is.
This blog is going to end now, because I am tired of typing through this conversation.
Hello blog.
It's been awhile since either Heather or I have visited you. Now I, Carolyn, am here with Heather, Melissa, and our sober roommate, Nichole Marie Johnson.
It's a Monday night.
I have never been this drunk on a Monday night.
Currently we are planning our weekend-- wait-- now we are complaining about the hip hop guest artist.
Hip hop/contemporary? What the fuck is that? She isnt good at contemporary and she's a bitch.
This woman kept us ten minutes after class because she wouldn't let us leave until we were good enough for her. She is from Manhattan. She is a cocky mother fucker.
I'm still stuck on this guest artist, but the others have moved on to our classmates touching their own vaginas.
Heather and I are presenting a duet on Saturday for Production. It may involve this blog. We should probably be drunk for production.
Melissa is starting another beer. Heather and I are too drunk already.
Let's talk about the fact that we are drunk on a Monday night. It's because of mine and Heathers rehearsal. I don't know what Melissa's excuse is.
This blog is going to end now, because I am tired of typing through this conversation.
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