misstrish's Diaries
Print Story Fucking Kitty Pride
By MissTrish (Sat Feb 04, 2012 at 12:54:47 AM EST) WHERE BE MY FUCKIN CENTIPEDES (all tags)
Yes, she hates Weezer. Why am I hanging out with these people? because they are awesome. Also, because they are 256 and e. the two may be synonymous.

(15 comments, 85 words in story) Full Story

Print Story It's a brand new day
By MissTrish (Fri Oct 07, 2011 at 09:27:08 AM EST) last call, breakfast, i'm going back to bed now (all tags)
Transition from drunk to hungover.

Rated 14+ for language and references to mature situations.

(10 comments, 590 words in story) Full Story

Print Story Eating her curds and whey
By MissTrish (Sun Feb 15, 2009 at 08:43:02 AM EST) yoghurt, cheese, zomnomnomnom (all tags)
Adventures in cheesemaking, vol. 1
I like cheese.

(30 comments, 993 words in story) Full Story

Print Story I heart my home town
By MissTrish (Fri Aug 08, 2008 at 12:43:27 PM EST) travel, vandalism, ribs, sludge (all tags)
Ontario's Feel Good Town
Gem of Lake Ontario

(31 comments, 676 words in story) Full Story

Print Story It's been awhile
By MissTrish (Sat Jun 16, 2007 at 06:28:20 AM EST) depression, anxiety, bitchiness, cacti (all tags)
In which I wake up. And see cacti.

(47 comments, 650 words in story) Full Story

Print Story Smells like something
I think I need a shower.

(15 comments, 356 words in story) Full Story

Print Story Early Consumer-mas
By MissTrish (Thu Dec 21, 2006 at 04:37:11 PM EST) (all tags)
Chapter 1: Forgiveness can be tried on in a size 7 1/2.
Chapter 2: Drinking and shopping.
Chapter 3: Bad play on words that is only funny to me.
Epilogue and notes.

(10 comments, 686 words in story) Full Story

Print Story Saturday Morning Drinkin'
Gin and tonic? Walk like an Egyptian? Awake before noon?


(27 comments, 567 words in story) Full Story

Print Story Won't slow down just for me
Time insists on moving forward in steady second-length increments. Cursing.

(25 comments, 546 words in story) Full Story

Print Story Where do we go now?
By MissTrish (Sat Sep 23, 2006 at 09:47:10 AM EST) mrrrrrrrr, g'way, sleeping (all tags)
It's one of those quiet Saturday mornings after.

(31 comments, 341 words in story) Full Story

Print Story From the belly of the Beast
By MissTrish (Wed Sep 06, 2006 at 02:40:29 PM EST) just jamming the brains back in (all tags)
There have been many events that I have glossed over recently in an attempt to discard them as inconsequential. Now that they are becoming less stressful, further from my control or need to control, I think I can let it out a little.

But just a little.

(23 comments, 610 words in story) Full Story

Print Story Fragmented
By MissTrish (Thu Aug 31, 2006 at 04:26:23 PM EST) i'm not sure, wfc, wtf? (all tags)
My knuckle is swollen. It's the second one, the big lump where my middle finger connects with my hand.  I am a little disappointed with myself; the third knuckle, the ring finger, is swollen too. This means that I have been punching wrong. That even though the drywall gave an encouraging buckle under my fist, and there is a strange little dent in the wall where my ring tore off a bit of the paint, I hit wrong. My wrist wasn't lined up. I am pretty sure the first two shots were aligned, so that leaves the third, the angriest, as the punch I slipped on and couldn't even hit right. Especially in moments of extreme anger, a girl should be punching properly. Also, it would also seem that I am incapable of writing a coherent diary. edited

(29 comments, 440 words in story) Full Story

Print Story The potentially confusing MnFC! (we're already confused over here)
Disclaimer: The water in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia (that's New Scotland), Canada (pronounce it like looks like except with a K) must have something incredibly potent in it. I have been unable to determine whether it is a hallucinogen, carcinogenic (but who really cares, everyone smokes out here anyway - 'cept for ni the pink lunged pussy), tiny leprechauns sent from Ireland to fuck with us for messing with their alcoholic schtick (but that may just be an argument for the hallucinogens) or if some smart-ass programmer kid working on a philosophy degree (don't worry, I laughed at him too) re-routed our tap water to the brewery in Halifax (but honestly, I don't think he would be able to manage the menial labour, he probably hired some poor Newfie [no I take it back, no Newfie deserves an adjective] for him) for the always patriotic (not like those traitor Molson fucks, just like you deserve theantix) Alexander Keiths Pale Ale (which is far more refreshing than ni's idea of a double gin and tonic, which in reality is just a glass full of gin that in it he spit [take that Winston, try and out drink us.])

Also, I registered earlier my professional opinion that I should have been restrained as soon as I got here (dropped the ball on the handcuffs, didn't you ni?)

(11 comments, 577 words in story) Full Story

Print Story "Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be just like you."
By MissTrish (Thu Jul 20, 2006 at 05:42:43 PM EST) girls like dolphins (all tags)
A quick and unintentionally rambling look at my ambition.

(17 comments, 981 words in story) Full Story