Oh shit.

I am not particularly required to inform you bastards about my mysterious sickness that has been bothering the shit out of me, what with all the nausea and all. Let's just say that the most important point is that I had to pool the money I "legally" earned with that of my significant other for reasons both monetary and "other" reasons.

Fucking twins, what the fuck. Karen Sylvia Plath and Alix Kymberleigh Petra and all of a sudden money money money. Christ I'm going to have to get a second job. Also at least I have a second reason to get married to my fiancee; it is more convenient for me! I love my babies but I ain't going to quit my job at the bank. It's the perfect job, and when I'm not swindling rich white fucks, I have some Access.

Speaking of Access, however, my boyfriend is working on a science-fiction game with MS Access and Visual Basic. His game is more advanced than mine; a Space Mafia is more interesting than a bunch of Black people killing each other with weapons that I create and load myself, eh? Pfft but his Blacks have spacecraft, much more advanced than those from Gayniggers From Outer Space.

I currently am designing a space shuttle to take me to the moon so that I may bring back to Earth some moon rocks and possibly some extinct Lunar life my Love speaks of. Karen and Alix shall be the first infants on Luna, I'll tell you what.

But seriously between my job at the bank, another job which shall not be mentioned, and my Blythe's job with some temporary Alaskan bastards and his other job that needs not be mentioned for the sake of our currency. But still though we have two beautiful liabilities and a DID-affected fiance whose asshole leaks thousands of dollars a month of which half goes towards crack and brandy. Christ I don't think I've ever drank this much brandy in months due to the pain that the MS Contin does not totally fix.

Oh, and by the way, neither Alix nor Karen are crack babies. They'll discover it when they do. In the meantime I must keep all I have to myself and not even tell Blythe about all of it.

-@llison J. Fairweather: Former Child [Pornography] Star (who by the way did not choose those motherfuckingly terrible names for the Kids - that was me obviously).

PS. Yes I do have some pictures from several years ago; if you're lucky you'll see Hottie Allison in all her beauty. No nudity though, unless you subscribe to me by requesting my email address and subscribe to the pale, white ass that calls itself mine. If you want to have sex with me, however, I would have to add some increasingly-ridiculous stipulations.

For the record my Love is reading all that I am currently typing and finds it hilarious. I no longer like the concept of myself sleeping alone or even passing out alone drunk to wake up without Him.

I'm SUCH a girl! No wonder me and Blythe's children are TOTALLY IMMACULATE. My life will become even better later this month from selling a dozen puppies and some money and a box full of emeralds or some other green stones. In addition to exploiting them in order ensure marriage, a Black guy (SHOCKER!) attempted to steal several bars of gold that I've been collecting since Barack Obama seized power. Think of what you are doing! Do you guys think that your STUPID IDEA of ASSASSINATING THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES WILL FIX ANYTHING?

Congratulations; you've just elected the Diabolical Trinity: the Biden/Obama, the Antichrist/Nancy Pelosi, and the False Prophet; Obama again/also Hilary "Whoops I Married an Adulterer" Clinton and Tipper "OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE?" Gore.

Not the kind I want done to me, but hell, even if my Love died of syphilis, emphysema, asthma, gunshot wound, or "accidentally" taking too many sleeping pills. My Love recommends a mixture of vodka, quetiapine, and alprazolam. Hydromorphone is also recommended. Other than nuking oneself from orbit, this is the only way to be sure.

Rapists and murderers and Democrats aside, it's five-thirty in the morning and my girls need to go to bed. So do I; as a studious intellectual four-day-long study binges are necessary. In fact apart from the seizures they can cause, I highly recommend such kinds of drugs. Desoxyn apparently makes me even more wonderful than usual. I must put my daughters to bed because if I don't accomplish a task it never gets done since Blythe is constantly busy. So am I though, but I work fewer hours. I still don't like working here because of all the Mexicans. I painted my very own "NO TRESPASSING ON MY PROPERTY UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE" after my old sign was stolen by some Mexicans. I almost want to move to Arizona for its anti-Mexican laws...almost. Arizona is not much better than this sewer drain full of illegal immigrants stealing my electricity.

This shit's gonna kill me someday, but eh. Life goes on.

Oh, wait...

-@llison J. Fairweather