Log in

patty hitler's Journal
[Most Recent Entries] [Calendar View] [Friends]

Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in patty hitler's LiveJournal:

[ << Previous 20 ]
Saturday, January 11th, 2003
3:04 am
little bom bom for your bum bum
Alright, I'd like to bring it down for a sec and let a little poem out for all you LJers that love to do their thang...Silence please

So hard and stiff.
Rub it around
On my

Storm trooper
with a purple helmet.
Throbbing like a heart
gonna make me fart.

Royal penis
i bow to you.
Your majesty
Can it be?
Prince Dick
Of Insanity

bom bom ahhhhhh yeah, that was tight, can i getta whu whu! Say wha? The beat....the beat...the beat
2:51 am
Youz a hoe
Youz a hoe
You doin ho activities
With ho tendencies
Hos are your friends, hoes are your enemies
With ho energy to do whacha do
Blew whacha blew
Screw whacha screw

Yall professional like DJ Clue, pullin on my coat tail
an why do you think you take a ho to a hotel?
Hotel everybody, even the mayor
Reach up in tha sky for tha hozone laya
Come on playa once a ho always a ho
And hos never close they open like hallways
An heres a ho cake for you whole ho crew
an everybody wants some cuz hoes gotta eat too

Cant turn a ho into a housewife
Hos dont act right
Theres hos on a mission, an hoes on a crackpipe
Hey ho how ya doin?
Prolly doin ho stuff cuz there you ho again
Its a ho wide world, that we livin in
feline, feminine, fantastical, women
Not all, just some
You ho who you are
Theres hoes in tha room, theres hoes in tha car
theres hoes on stage, theres hoes by tha bar
hos by near, an hos by far
Ho! (But can i getta ride?!)
NO! (Cmon, nigga why?!)
Cuz youza

You gotta run in your pantyhos
Even your daddy knows
that you suckin down chocolate like daddy-o's
You hos are horrible, horrendous
On taxes ya'll writin off hos as dependents
I see tha ho risin
it aint surprisin
its just a hoasis
with ugly chicks faces
but hos dont feel so sad and blue
cuz most of us niggaz is hos too

Muthafuckas im so tiired of yall niggaz always talkin
bout hos this, hos that, you tha muthafuckin ho nigga
I wasnt no ho last night

Ho, bring yo ass!
Saturday, January 4th, 2003
2:01 pm
Last one
Blow on the Jug
Everybody come on blow on a jug
Be like me and blow on a jug
I want you to blow on a jug
Everybody dig it blow on the jug tonight
If you are blowin' on the jug you are the jug love
oh yeah heh heh oh yeah heh heh

so ooooo yeah, im leaving my friends house again tonight and going back to austin. i love that freakin town. the other night this bum asked me id i wanted to go with him to one of his camps "where tha moonshiners are" i didnt go cause my buddy thought the guys were creepy. i dont think they would have done anything. whatevs..anyhoozile. so im gonna go back tonight and stay for awhile then maybe n a week or so ill start the drive back to hell, my home. i talked to my dad yestereday and he said i bettter et my ass home. i think he was drunk cause when i left he told me to stay as long as i want. i think ma told him when school started so hes pissed. I think my bud here might come back with me. since they wont like that he might just sleep at the Y or something til we run away again. hes so HOT. hes got long shaggy hair and he skateboards too. so fucking hot. i just want to rip his clothes off when i think of him yummmmmm
Friday, January 3rd, 2003
2:07 pm
Exretion Manifesto
Ok, the title may sound trivial to you but this IS, no joking matter. There is a proper method to safely survive the horrible act of shitting when not in ones humble abode. Anyone that's lived out of their vehicle will whole-heartedly understand these basic procedures, from the anticipation of #2 to the preparation of the facilities and last but not least, the safety procedures involved in the clean-up.

Let us begin with the anticipation of your dump. You must always be aware of when you last took a dump. If you took one yesterday morning, well then you better take one again before you leave your spot.

THE SPOT: this is the most comfortable, 24 hour restaurant you can find with a lock on the door. There's nothing worse than the stalls where people open up the door to come in and they, and everyone else standing in line to order a taco, can see you through the crack in the door. Of course, they probably don't see you, but you see them and it's quite un-nerving and makes it hard to drop-and-go, which is the goal you're striving for. If you don't "drop-and-go," you risk the bad, BAAAAD experience of having another person take a shit next to you. There IS nothing worse than the added discomfort of anothers' smell and the sound...well the sound is just no bueno when you got some 200 pound trucker droppin off his chili dog and nachos in the bowl.

SO once you've found your SPOT, you must begin preparation of the seat. You have two options: 2 toilet seat covers if available---or 3 layers of toilet paper covering the seat entirely. I actually prefer the toilet paper option. Then you can place the paper in all the right places to avoid any contact with anyone else's ass. If you miss, and touch the toilet...well, I feel for ya. the reason i feel the seat covers are wrong is because of the fact that...that little deal you push down into the toilet-- it makes a really bad sound when your dump hits it. It sounds like the shit just hit the paper you're sitting on for god sakes! Each time you drop you chitlins off in the pool you gotta raise up in a fit of paranoia and check to make sure you didn't hit the paper underneath you! Seriously though! Do you want to accidently get your crap stuck on that paper and then hit your ass, NO! SO that is why the toilet paper is a much more sufficient way of preventing other people's asses from touching yours and keeping shit from tainting your ass

Next up is the act of "dropping off the kids." I'm not even going to go into the act of puking out your kids, that's something only the strong can survive. Again, I feel for this person. Moving on, to properly and quickly let loose of your digested food, you must take a deep breath and think about something pleasant. Maybe sheep jumpng over a fence or something. I prefer clowns juggling cats, but that's just me. Breathe...and release, only stopping if another walks in. If this happens, cease fire and have patience. If the person speaks to you, speak gobbly- goop back to them as if you dont speak english.
Once you have succsesfully rid your system, you must clean your cavity and the surrounding gates of cheek. This is a horrible act that only I will put an end to one day. No one should have to put their hands so close to shit on daily basis. I'm not a janitor and I don't work at a veterinary office so I should NOT have to clean shit. My hands are golden and I feel they shouldn't be treated with such disrespect. With that said, and my invention not yet banged out, you must clean yourself. Since I don't like the thought of it, I'll make it quick.---Get a lot of toilet paper, bundle it up and swipe. Do this until there's no more discoloration of the paper or the color turns to red. This means blood and that means abort mission. I've never gone that far but I can see it happening. No your limit when wiping. NOt to little, not too much.

once done cleansing you must sit up and barely touch the paper seat and brisk it into the seat. IF it doesn't go in, than too bad, you are not a janitor, remember. Raise up, pull your shit up and get the hell outta there.

It's these proper procedures that will keep you smellin' fresh and fruity in case you meet a boy that wants to take a lickin and keep on tickin, ya know. These methods will always make your life much easier while on the road or living somewhere without a home. Do not skimp on any one method or it could be tragic. Thank you and good day!
Sunday, December 29th, 2002
1:14 pm
time to get my ass popped
so me and my new "special friend"hehehhehehe made it to austin. i love it here. My right hand man knows a lot of folk down here so it should be a fun new years.DUECE DOUBLE OT TRES BIEEEATCH! hopefully they'll be some g-string poppin hehehhehhehhe. I'm gonna lick em and kick em and i sure as hell's gonna suck em and fuck em. anyhoozile, enough of my horny details..... there's a lot of mexicans down here, not that i care enough to mention it but... its worse than san clemente. Down here they call it tex-mex. well, i gotta go cause the persons house im staying at needs to use the phone. If my trucks a rockin, dont come a knockin!!! Mein boofenhauser gon schleimen on vu boob!!!!
Thursday, December 26th, 2002
2:15 am
passive yet morbid thougths from hell
Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we don't know how, and shouldn't wonder why. They gaze upon us, morose and gray. WOE to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in them....And WOE to the thinker that notices a rotten plant when it springs... And woe to the sonofabitch that whacks that rotten plant like a 14 yr. old boy and then carries on...Woeeeee-oooo-oooo-ooooo oo ooooooooooo- da-da-da-da-da-da daaaaa glooooooria. Peace in Bethla heemmm. yaddadadad daaaa. this song is playing in some religious cyber cafe im in. Fucking bible-belt wearin' bastards! They'z all lookin like a bunch of wrastlers showin' off their big-ol BELTS on their big-ol bellies. But they don't wanna step to The Pattyhitler! Fuck The Rock! Fuck The 700 club! Fuck Robert Tilton! I'm The Pattyhitler and from here on out, all you bible beaters will refer to me in third person...THE..PATTYHITLER SHALL ANNIHILATE YOU ALL...AHHHHHHHHH! -----Back on the road we go. Yo ho ho o, a pirates life for me. haYA
Wednesday, December 25th, 2002
11:11 pm
holy shmoley
so we made it to my grandparents this morning in time for grits. yum, we hadnt eaten shit on the trip. not very exciting besides all the funny racist jokes my grandaddy said. He told this one about...ah ask me later, i probably shouldnt say it. They gave me a book on the holocaust. its so fukkin cool. you should see all the dead people in here. then it made me feel really bad and that feeling soon led me to the corner of the room so my friend made a great suggestion. he said we should go downtown to the tard center and look at all the people there. it helped sooooo much. just seeing all those people not as capable as me made it all better
Tuesday, December 24th, 2002
7:17 pm
that pesky bird
Tüss Tüss opp'e Tün
Met d' Kaut en mien Foageltje brun
De Schnetje senn goa
Daut Wota es kloa
Von Somma en Freid senn' wie dün.

For you, not in the KNOW:
Home, home on the (picket) fence
With the cat and my tiny brown bird
The biscuits are done
The water is clear
From winter and joy we are drunk
6:24 pm
I'll pick your soul with an icepick
What is
The meaning of pain
The way that i want you to die

Immense Decay
Showers that clanse of your life
Forced In
Like Cattle you run
Stripped Of your Lifes Worth

Human Mice
FOod for the angel of DEATH
Four Hundred Thousand More To Die
Angel of DEATH
Monarch to the kingdom of the dead

I',m the surgeon of your demise
Destroying all
Without mercy and consciousness
Once again I will control

With no anesthesia
Feel the Knife Pierce Your side
No use to mankind

Strapped down
Screaming Out To Die
"Oh please, Oh please tell me
What have i done"

I'm the Infamous
The butcher
Pumped with fluid
I look inside your brain
The pressure in your skull begins to push
Out through your eyes
Comes your soul for all to see
Your soul is no news to me
3:06 am
Lucifer says: Von Hein Holidays ve Blodde
im at a library in paris. Paris, Texas that is, hehehhehehehe. As odd as it sounds, i met an old friend in albakercee that used to live next to me and he ended up coming along with me. I'm trying to keep my hole clamped but the long hours in the car make me "wetter'n uh slobberin dogs bowl" as the man at the gas station said today.hehehehheehe... :{D> I can feel the tension. Well, I better go before he sees this, I just snuck it in. I miss you gogo, jim, dave and yer daughter, chris, vladimir, pat, and most of all stanley. I'll see you later and ill get back with you at the next cafe
Saturday, December 21st, 2002
8:21 am
Outta he' foo
My friend Gulliver and I are travelling down south. Road TRIP REPRESENT!!Hopefully we'll have time to hit Baton Rouge. Fuck this place, if anything turns up worth two shits...I'M STAYIN' BIATCH! I just can't handle my dad's little "games" anymore. I'll be sure to stop in at the local web cafe's during my travels. ....SOmeone once said Travel hard and travel far, but whatever you do, don't drive a slow car....ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, December 18th, 2002
8:53 pm
Sorry I've been such a bitch lately. and no, gogo, it's not pms (pre menstrual...syndrome. it's what i like to call penis malfunction syndrome or as I like to call it in short, PMS. I know I've spoken about it before but...my dad's been up to his old "games" as he likes to call it. I heard ma and him talking last night about his "malfunction." Sure enough he always comes to me the next day (today) and looks for a "pick me up." I hate that bastard so much. I have to move away. I want to go to BOsnia or some place where there's no child abuse.
5:13 am
I just shit a brick.
It splashed on my ass.
I didn't like it.
Tuesday, December 17th, 2002
10:28 pm
Godzilla vs. White Trash
Life's a lot like Godzilla--it's big and ferocious, but yet sometimes, it can be so damn cute/nice. poor Godzilla...everyone gave him such a hard time but all he wanted was a little electricity. So he knocked down a few power supplies in Tokyo. Not to be Trent Lott or anything but the fucking bastards can spare a few. My dad says THEY are taking over. NOt sure if he means the monsters like Godzilla or the asian persuaions that own the business he works for. SOmetimes he says a lot of things I don;t understand but i'm still a little girl. When he's an asshole, I don't listen to a damn thing. His life can be rough though. He's been roofing houses for i don't know how long and he still gets 14 bones an hour--no 401K and "sure as shit don't get no bonus" as he always says. But still, when he's not running through the house in his disgusting tighty whities yelling, " this is my fukkin house, I'll do as I please" he's a good guy. Like I've said before, he lives with good intentions so he is allowed to yell at us. I think you can get away with anything if you have good intentions. Whatevs though...I can hear them bickering-about right now about moms Dodge. My door's locked and the bottle is popped so I'm away from it all. What a W.T. house I live in...W.T. REPRESENT
Monday, December 16th, 2002
2:55 pm
Jallopy Jim
a long time ago, I met a hobo named Jallopy Jim outside the Smogcutter in LA. Everytime I could get away and take the bus up there, I'd go see him. He was always there- sitting on that blue milk crate next to the bin with the stripper ads inside of it. I'd ask the same thing everytime I saw him, "Whatcha doin Jallopy Jim?" Every stinking time he'd reply, "Just hanging with my ladies." Then he'd laugh the laugh of a man with years and years of alcohol and cigarrettes under his belt.
One time he told me the name of a poem by Bukowski he thought of every day.Naturally, I asked him to tell me what it was about. He paused for a long time and then grumbled, "YOu know me well, Patty... so there's no need to tell you. It won't be news to you. Every time you sit with me you read this poem."
I went home and flipped through the Bukowski books I had looking for it, but to no avail. This morning though, I was thinking about him, cause I hadn't seen him in awhile, and finally remembered to looked it up on the internet. What it was--was a written form of the side of him I always loved. I knew it was there. It peeked through the cracks when no one else was looking. He used to tell me that I was the only one trying to look. Years of conditioning led him to not talk about this hidden side much but,to anyone that really wanted to see, it was always there. It was understood between us that I knew. There was never a need for him to tell me because...he knew that I understood. He knew I looked past his dirty grey beard and shirt that read, "I GOT SPUNK PUNK.. SO DON'T FRONT."
This morning when I read the poem, it made me miss him even more cause...it was just a good feeling to know that he and I could know so many things about each other just because we both spent the effort to actually look through the cracks. His comment," You're the only one trying to look " truely came to life this morning. My nostalgic memory turned to sadness though, because I no longer see him and it kills me to know that so many people passing him by will write him off as just some guy that yells, " Ahoy, local L..Aliens! GOTTA DOLLA?" These people will never know the true prize I won years ago, and still cherish to this day...he's the greatest person I've ever met. He's also the only person to say to me, " Hehe, yer lookin' mighty spiffy lil girl...GOT A DOLLA?"---
As the rain knocks at my window, I wonder how/what he's doing. I feel sorry for anyone that never understood him. They don't know what they missed. He changed my mind in so many good ways, opened so many locked doors, and let me know that I had something to offer. Now I know what he meant/and why he carried that poem around with him every day. Thanks Jallopy Jim! You Fucking Rule!

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
you want to blow my book sales in

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
Sunday, December 15th, 2002
2:16 am
This plank of life can be bouncy
As I walk the plank, I wonder- in a wondering way- what is this HELL I've been brought into?
As I step to the end of this plank, I ponder- as one would ponder- do i want this?
As I take a step back, I step backwards -as one would when gettin' ta steppin'-- shall i turn and walk forward off this plank?
As I walk forward back into this life, I wonder- in a post-suicide manner- isn't life a plank?
As I forsee my future, I gaze- as one would when gazing- this life...whether dead or alive...it's ALL ONE BIG PIRATE SHIP!
As I say "huh" to my last thought, I think- as one would after writing something so random - what the hell am i talking about?

And then....I realize, we are living on one big pirate ship full of young bushwackers. This so called "Life" as they say, is surrounded by men full of deceit. With every breath... you take a step closer to the edge of the plank. Behind you stand the hecklers heckling "ARRR.. step off the plank ya pussy"--"Arrrr... Cmon little girl, fuck that dick, I swear it's clean.. ARR Arr Arr ARRRRRR..." As they spit and google over my body and mind I yell, "Down Demons, DOWN.......!" But my cries fall upon deaf ears. Some of the pirates don't even have ears, or eyes for that matter. Where was I???...... Oh yeah, so....like...I don't know. Ho Ho HO HO a pirate's life for me...I picka da pop, a da da da, I picka da da da daaaa... How's it go??
Friday, December 13th, 2002
12:33 pm
serenity in chicken wings
pass the acid...inject it in my wounds...
Thursday, December 12th, 2002
1:48 pm
Serenity in Death
This driving compulsion
Brings morbid thoughts to mind
Sexual release buried deep inside
Complete control of a prized possession
To touch and fondle with no objection

Lonely souls and emptiness fullfilled
Physical pleasures and addictive thrill
An object of perverted reality
An obsession beyond your wildest dreams

Death loves final embrace
Your cool tenderness
Memories keep love alive
Memories will never die

The excitement of dissection is sweet
A lifeless object for my subjection
Primitive instinct a passion for flesh
Sadistic acts prove my love so true
Absorbingly masticating every part of you

I need a friend
Please be my companion
I don't want to be
Left alone with my sanity

Shades are drawn
No one can see
What I've done or
What's become of me
Here I stand
Above all that's been true
How I love
How I love to kill you
Monday, December 9th, 2002
8:06 pm
ya win some and lose some
Every once in awhile a rock falls off the side of a cliff. Maybe it will fall in the dirt below and become a nice, humble abode for a homeless scorpion. Maybe it will fall and hit some tree-huggin' hiker on the head and give him a new outlook on life. Or maybe it will give him his first concussion and open his eyes to the world of illusions without drugs. Or, possibly...it will land in the dirt and soil itself bringing about a new species of rock/dirt monster. Proably NOT, but as i said, it's just a possibility. The possibilities are infinite each and every time a rock loses its ground and falls downward. But, as I said, that rock must land somewhere, or shall we say, "land on its feet again." Of course, rocks don't LITERALLY have feet, but...metaphorically speaking, unless it falls into a black hole of sorts, it must "land on its feet." If I were in a class studying the effects of rocks falling over the edge, I'd probably ask a question or two. My question would probably sound something like this-- "Excuse me Mrs. Krovacapool, I have a question." "Yes Patty, knock yourself out." "Thank you, now that I have the floor, I'd like to use this forum to address the theory that states rocks falling off the edge of a cliff will land in the dirt, creek, grass or what have you below, and stay stagnant until moved by another object." You'd probably hear sounds like this in the classroom, "hmmm, huuummmm," or "oohh i never thought about any other possibilities" Basic mumblings people voice when someone brings a fairly rudimentary idea to their brains. Anyhoozile, "So when the rock falls and it lands face first in the dirt, how long would it take for "Mister Rock" to get sick of staring at the ground in hopes of another object coming along and moving him." Applause would raddle the room, being such an eye opening question and all. "Bare with me fellow pupils, for this question is not alone. I have but one more to bring to your attention. Perchance, the ground that the rock had previously rested on was quite a good place to spend its time. WHAT IF.. this Mister Rock really liked where he was cause this new spot is all new and frankly, it's just uncomfortable." Sympathetic Ahhh's would fill the room like a blue-collar shit at five o' clock. "Is there hope for Mister Rock when he looks up at his old spot to torture himself with fond memories, but to no avail due to a tree blocking his view? What then can he do? How long could he torture his little rock-brain thinking about the past knowing it's within "spittin distance," as they say. Or shall WE SAY, given the subject of the story...close enough he could throw a rock at it." As laughter fills the room and then subsides I'd raise my voice. "HOW MUCH IS ENOUGH? Can this rock really spend his days obsessing over something he can do nothing about, THAT OLD SITTIN' GROUND? WELL, can it survive these pointless thoughts? When his brain turns to push and shove , will he eventually say 'ENOUGH is ENOUGH I've had it'? I think so! But, I might ask, how might he go about when he has no motivation or means to move being a rock and all? Being that close doesn't make anything any easier. What if he even wondered, since his lack of movement has driven him to insanity- what if he began to wonder if that ol' spot even felt the same way anymore. 'What a loser I would be' he would say to himself. I know what you're thinking, 'yeah,yeah, we get the shameless metaphorical story and all the stupid questions but what is your point'? My point here is to say, this point of obsession would be the point where he says to himself, 'hahahha I am a jackass' as he said many times before." "So will he survive?" someone would yell from the back of the class. "Yes, he will! He has no other choice but to move on to another spot, or open his eyes and enjoy the new spot. Perhaps, to make it easier, he'll truely play the biggest trick on his mind ever and consider making bad things up about his old spot just to keep him from missing it. But he'll quickly realize he's retarded and just laugh at himself for the latter thought and the fact that he would spend his days wishing for something he can longer have. 'Ha ha ha' he would laugh outloud if he had a mouth. So see, my fellow classmates, i have solved nothing here today. But yet you will all walk away thinking that I actually answered the question put forth at the beginning of the class and you will walk away feeling like you re-learned something you forgot. Would the old idiom 'let sleeping dogs lie' apply here? Maybe not in its original sense but we aren't exactly speaking literally or with any sense today, now are we? So when you leave here, just remember that tomorrow may be your last day to live and next week may be your last day in town or shall we say, the last day on 'your ol' spot' . So live it up! Don't stink it up! Or how 'bout, when you shit don't sniff! No...after you shit, don't stick around smellin' it all night long. Eventually the smell will get to your brain and nothing will smell good anymore. Sorry about the shit reference but it's all i could think of. If it helps, I was referring to a nice solid vitamin-induced shit not one of those McDonald's combo meal shits i referenced to earlier as a 'blue-collar shit.'
SO class, I'm sure you all will leave here a tad bit dumber so...Ta-ta duders and dudettes
Friday, December 6th, 2002
9:46 pm
my new boyfriend named Eukodol
Those fucking GERMANS are at it again. I encountered some...substances recently that will put your face in the dirt. It's called Eukodol.It's like a combination of junk and cocaine.Fucking Germans, you can always count on them to concoct some really evil shit. It feels about 6 times stronger than codeine.
My friend has takin' a liking to it. I tried it in a special place where I can slip it in. It stays open like a red, festering mouth, or a swollen and obscene pussy. It's basically a chemical variation of codeine. I haven't haven't mainlined it but he said it goes straight to you head.. Through my opening though... it takes a bit longer. But when it hits, it's like electricity through my brain activating all my pleasure connections. Zap, Zap, Zap
These experiments are nothing more than an escape for me. EWHen I escape, it feels like static in the brain. Like the mutterings of a telephone off the hook. WHen the bugs crawl through my blood, my sexual libido is at 0. I doubt if shame can exist in the absence of my sexual libido... When I'm high, I regard my body impersonally--- as an instrument to absorb the medium I insert. I evaluate every thought and tissue in my body. As you shift to sleep without transition, you fall into the middle of a dream...

When it goes bad... I feel violent, electric convulsions that shake my bones loose. I feel like my skeleton is trying to climb out of my flesh and run in a straight line to the nearest cemetary.
It would probably sound like this as it was running away. "HEHEHEHEHEHEEEE, I'M NAKED! HEHEHEHHEHE!
When they walk in
Standing above your eyes
You say
I know what I'm doing
But they always know
They know where you lay
The know too much
You become tiresome
And give up
Back to dreams of death
[ << Previous 20 ]
cool site   About LiveJournal.com