bexx13

“Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, "hey girl, magenta!" and she's like, "oh, you mean purple!" and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, "no - I want magenta!"” -John Mayer

* The name of Rebecca creates a friendly, sociable, charming nature, but causes you to be too easily influenced by others.

* While you find it easy to meet and mix, and can appear agreeable and compromising in conversation, you can become unbending and forceful if pressed too far.

* Others learn that you cannot be told what to do and you seldom change your mind once it is made up.

* You prefer situations that allow a degree of independence, but are reluctant to take on a demanding work-load or responsibility.

* Although the name Rebecca creates the urge to understand and help others, we stress that it causes a blunt expression that alienates others.

* This name, when combined with the last name, can frustrate happiness, contentment, and success, as well as cause health weaknesses in the fluid systems, and tension or accidents to the head.


Interesting...

Just sayin'

What is with LJ sending me a message every time someone on my friends list receives a virtual gift?????? I DON'T FUCKING CARE.

I'm bored.

I've missed you LJ.

I'm not dead.

I'm driving home from work today and got into a yelling match with some dude. I have a 3-way stop sign intersection right at the entrance of my neighborhood. There was a huge van in front of me, so I couldn't really see the other cars. I go to make my right turn, and notice too late that the car opposite of me was turning as well. I completely cut him off. He beeped at me. I waved my hand to say "sorry." Instead of that being the end of it, the dude decided to rev his engine and come up right next to me as I'm driving. He yells in my window something about the stop sign. I yell back that I had said sorry. He then speeds up and cuts in front of me. Then proceeds to drive less than 5 miles an hour. I get pissed so I gave him the finger. He completely stopped and started yelling out his window at me. "Fuck you!" And some other things I couldn't make out. I yell back, "No, fuck YOU! I said sorry you fucking asshole!" He then yells some more. We go on like this, stopped in the middle of the road for a good 2 minutes. He then drives off still yelling in a fit of rage. I laugh and continue my 2 second drive home. I have to add also that all of this happened in a 15ft distance. I love road rage, don't you? I mean, it was a stop sign for god's sake. Get over it. Haha.

Tonight I'm sitting on the couch watching the new show, Vampire Diaries. (I read the books 3 years ago, thank. you. very. much.)



Anyway, I'm watching and I started thinking, "I wish vampires were real." Seriously. Why would you not want to stay young forever? Live forever. Never get hurt. Etc, etc. And why the fuck do all these bitches in movies/tv not want to be bitten by and become one? I'd be the first one to sign up for it. Being a vampire would be awesome.


On another note, I keep buying hats and I don't know why. None of them fucking look good on me. I have like a collection of hats that I've never worn. I need to stop buying them.

Tomorrow's Friday. Finally. Sorry for the lack of posting to anyone who actually reads this piece of shit. I've been lazy lately. It happens.

Watched the MTV Video Music Awards tonight. It keeps getting worse and worse every year! I only watched it because my bf Robert Pattinson was going to be there. And he looked fucking delicious. I should have dvr'd that shit though so I could have fast forwarded through all the bullshit. Kanye West is a fucking tool. And Lady Gaga scares me.

I brought fake mustache's to the bar last weekend. So serious.



The gray goatee looked way cooler as a tear.

Time for bed.

Bald is NOT beautiful.

It is what it is. Who/what is "it"? I'm not telling.

I like Pickles. So serious.

My daughter Autumn, I'm pretty sure, is the best kid in the world. I just walked by the bathroom and heard her singing between farts.

I'm being a nerd and taking Facebook quizzes.

So far I have found out that I am vibrant, creative and insane. My relationship with the world is very love/hate. I'm also temperamental, bizarre and intriguing. And my ideal position at Wal-Mart would be an overnight stocker because I must of  lost my job as a carnie and this is the only other time I've seen people like me since.

That is all for now.

<3 Becks


p.s. Robert Pattinson will be mine.

It better fucking allow me to be bathed and dressed by a robot. Also breakfast made by same robot, at the same time. Every morning.

Last night, went to a bar. Drank too much, but not enough for me to become belligerent. Damn it. There was a dude falling asleep at the bar though, I got so excited  and started pointing when I saw him that you'd think I just noticed Rob Pattinson standing there naked. Here's a picture of said sleeping dude, and the assholes behind him are my friends:



My friends and I have had some crazy fucking drunk stories.

Like that time I walked into what I thought to be a friend of a friend's house, only to come back outside (after peeing in their toilet) to find out that the friend of a friend's house was the one next to the house I went pee in. Who's house did I go in? Who knows. Why was their door unlocked? Who knows. How did I know where the bathroom was? I walked around until I found it. Yep. I walked around someone's house, in the dark. I could have been shot. But I made it out alive, and at least I didn't take a dump in their toilet.

I have many puke stories as well, which I won't go into detail. But many friends have had to clean my vomit off of the outside of their cars and porches.

Or the worst night ever when I got really drunk on 50 cent vodka and cranberry drinks at the most ghetto bar in NJ. Fell. Broke my wrist so bad that I needed surgery to fix it.

However, none of these stories even come close to any that Tucker Max has written. I want to hang out with him at least once. He doesn't even need to talk to me, or include me in his conversations of the night. He will be in Philadelphia on Sept 1st for the premiere of his new movie. Tickets are already sold out, but I think I may go bar hopping in the city that night in hopes to run into him. I wouldn't even say anything to him, because he would probably just make fun of me anyway. I just want to witness one of his crazy nights out first hand.

www.textsfromlastnight.com

I love this website.

It reminds me of the time when I woke up with grass in my bed, in my hair, as well as finding it all over my bathroom floor.

I saw this show for the first time today. The episode I saw was some fat bitch that told her bridemaids they must be over 200lbs in order to be in her wedding. Because no one could look better than her on her wedding day. All the girls were overweight, the smallest one being 226lbs. And even at 226lbs the bride-to-be told her she's barely making it. What the fuck?! How about instead of making your friends feel like shit (the one girl's weight wouldn't even register on the scale.) (Yes she made them all stand on a scale, in front of everyone, and say their weight out loud.) you GET OFF YOUR FAT ASS AND LOSE SOME WEIGHT. Did I mention she also had a whistle on her wedding day, so that she didn't have to get up and could just whistle when she needed something. And then, after her wedding she said that it wasn't how she pictured her dream wedding. I feel bad for the dude that married that whale, and for her friends. That is all.

I need single friends who will go out with me every weekend. I'm so bored.

Soooooooooooo, Michael Jackson died.

Is it sad? Sure. Did he deserve it? No way. Do I care? Not really.

I find it ridiculous and stupid that no one cared about the man yesterday but suddenly everyone is saying how much they love him because he is dead. I bet 80% of you don't even own anything MJ recorded. And the only time you hear his songs are when the cover band at the bar you go to plays it. its annoying, so shuddup.


I watched the new Friday the 13th tonight. (I know I'm late.) I got to say I love that Redbox thing at the food store. $1 a movie?! I mean, seriously a dollar now-a-days is equivalant to the penny back in 1930. (I don't know how accurate that is, but you know what I'm sayin'!) Anyway, after i watched it I was closing my living room window, its the kind where it open/closes like a door and you have to crank the handle, I was half expecting Jason to be standing behind me when my reflection came into view in the window. Sadly, he was not there. Perhaps it is because I was not naked, having sex, nor do I have huge fake boobies. Oh well. All in all a good night. Blood, guts, sex and Jared Padalecki. I mean what more could a girl ask for?

So the love letters from Craigslist have been flowing in. But only a few make the cut to repost. Read my post before this one to see the ad I wrote.

The first is from ATT. I named him that because he sent it from his cell phone. I now have his number as well. Which he probably doesn't realize. ::evil laugh:: Just kidding. I don't want any crazies getting my phone number.

Stay there, dont move, the nice men with the white jackets are coming, very, very soon, and will place you in a very comfortable, well-padded room.   Dont move now, the noisy chatteryou hear in whats left of your mind is almost over young lady.

Next is from Brian. I el oh el'd. But I'm not sure if he is being serious...or funny.

Yesterday my horoscope said I would be receiving a love letter via email. Well, its today and still nothing. Where's my fucking love letter?! So I will be accepting love letters today. You can send them to Rebecca at bexxhexx@gmail.com, the funnier the better. I think I'm going to post an ad on Craigslist as well. Just for amusement. I was on there last night and found a real gem. "If your butt was a candybar it'd be 100grand. Cause that's how much I'd pay to eait it." Oh yea, can you feel the love?

EDIT: I posted that ad. I can't wait for the replies. I'll keep you posted. Read it!

So I want you all to know that I do try and read your journal entries, but some of them are just too fucking long and then I get bored.

I'm an asshole.

I need a new computer so I can play Sims 3. Buy me one please, thanks.

Robert Pattinson should probably leave NYC and come here and stick it in my ass. I think we would both benefit tremendously.

Winchester boys rule! I've been watching season 1 on DVD of Supernatural for the past 2 days. It was on sale for $30. I know, be jealous. I wish Dean was a real person and would come over and sing Metalica to me. I don't even like Metalica. They blow. But Dean doesn't.

My Mr. Coffee coffee pot told me not to hold it over people with burning hot coffee in it. FUCK! There goes my plans for tonight.

How many times can I say "coffee" in one sentence? Apparently 3.