her silence proceeds her..

au revoir.

jamisue — Tue, 14 Mar 2006 18:35:28 GMT

i think i have outgrown Livejournal.

if you need to or want to be in touch with me, you can:

a) email me at briiiiantmistake@aol.com
b) email me at jamisue@gmail.com
c) call me. 1-304-288-9396 (please leave a message if you call and i dont answer)
d) get in touch with me over at MySpace (eventho i dont do myspace very often, either)
e) instant message me at the above aol address or at wh0abag@hotmail.com

take care of yourselves...and happy journaling.

♥

i am...

jamisue — Mon, 06 Feb 2006 02:38:36 GMT

drinking iron city and shaking my pompoms.

go steelers!

_______________

crossposted to: http://www.myspace.com/wh0abag

What are your thoughts?

jamisue — Sat, 14 Jan 2006 16:25:36 GMT

a person is defined by the amount of space that he owns.

go!

*cross-posted to my space. http://blog.myspace.com/wh0abag

jamisue — Fri, 06 Jan 2006 13:13:12 GMT

i love men who dance.....whether they are good at it or not.

jamisue — Sun, 01 Jan 2006 18:10:29 GMT

i wish i were happy. i hope you all are.

happy new years.

To my LJ friends...

jamisue — Sun, 25 Dec 2005 23:51:08 GMT

Happy Holidays to all.

To.....you.....i miss you, too. Merry Christmas!

jamisue — Wed, 21 Dec 2005 11:36:28 GMT

ljCuss - 20 Public Entry Version

Stolen from jephimykes !

damn	8
fuck	7
ass	3
shit	2
bitch	1
cock	1
piss	1
screw	1
hell	1
whore	1
porn	1

Jul	18
Nov	4
Jun	3
Dec	2

How dirty is your LJ?

Created by g0thm0g!

jamisue — Mon, 19 Dec 2005 16:48:49 GMT

What does your handwriting say about YOU?

completely slapdash

jamisue — Thu, 15 Dec 2005 12:50:44 GMT

Have you ever just not wanted to hear from someone?

Why do clowns today look more like trannies and less like the clowns I remember from my childhood?

How come I absolutely love organization of mass inventory?

I have been posting my LJ entries as "public".

ganked from weswilson

jamisue — Tue, 06 Dec 2005 14:17:55 GMT

Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

Last Thursday I caught a purse-snatcher who stole hk23's purse (30 points). Last Sunday I helped cock_star hide a body (-173 points). Last Wednesday I saved a busload of nuns in Angola (326 points). In August on a flight to LA, I stole the emergency flight information card (-40 points). In April I bought porn for freakypotato (-10 points).

Overall, I've been nice (133 points). For Christmas I deserve an Easy-Bake Oven!

Sincerely,
jamisue

jamisue — Fri, 02 Dec 2005 12:44:36 GMT

Your Hidden Talent

You have the power to persuade and influence others.
You're the type of person who can turn a whole room around.
The potential for great leadership is there, as long as you don't abuse it.
Always remember, you have a lot more power over people than you might think!

What's Your Hidden Talent?

I went to church on my birthday.

jamisue — Wed, 30 Nov 2005 14:24:23 GMT

As some of you know, I like to think I am "agnostic". Since having my son, I have been trying to absorb as much "religious" education as I possibly can (without wanting to rip my own head off) so that I am able to answer, to the best of my ability, some of the questions regarding religion that Seth may have as he gets older.

Sunday was my birthday and I woke up with a very distinctive desire to attend church services. I dressed in my Sunday best and I drove my happy ass to services at Zoar, House of Prayer.

I chose this particular church because "non-denominational" appealed to my sense of not wanting to pick any certain persuasion but rather, learn about God in a general sense of the experience.

I knew nobody at this church and I wont lie...I was very apprehensive but I walked in with my head held high and found the perfect seat in the very last pew.

You have to understand that this particular church sits in the mountains on a very "backwoods" road. The attendence on Sunday was a whopping 17 people. Every one of the other 16 people who were in that church walked up to me, introduced themselves and shook my hand. Some of them even hugged me, men and women alike.

The services started by a woman named MaryAnne. She played both the piano and guitar (not at the same time, obviously) and led the congregation in hymns. It was rather unsettling for me at first because I didnt want to stand and sing and be noticed even further. I decided to just jump in and sing like nobody was watching. It felt really good.

After about 4-5 songs, the junior pastor, a woman, began her sunday school sermon. Then after about 40 minutes, Pastor Meyers began his formal sermon. Christian people do not believe in coincidence so much as they believe in the way God works. Wouldnt you know that that days sermon was about people putting their own personal feelings to the side and accepting Jesus Christ as their personal savior? Not being a christian, I found that to be completely coincidental.

During the sermon the pastor asked that everyone come to the altar and pray. I didnt rush to the altar and drop to my knees and humble myself to the Lord, I did however, watch as everyone else did...except MaryAnne. She closed her eyes and gently strummed her guitar. I watched her intently. For whatever reason, I was totally enthralled by her. As everyone was praying outwardly but quietly, I continued watching this woman play her music as she swayed back and forth and was apparently praying inside her head. All of the sudden, she stopped strumming and her eyes opened and she immediately looked directly into my eyes. She sat her guitar down and she started walking towards me. There was absolutely no emotion on her face or in her eyes and this petrified me. I had this idea that she was going to grab my hand and take me to the front of the church and embarrass me in some way or another. That is not at all what happened.

The other 15 people in the church continued praying. I tried to concentrate more on them now so that maybe there would be a chance that MaryAnne would walk past me and on to the church's office or restrooms. I heard whispers of people praying for our troops, praying for their families, praying for the homeless and praying for the unholy. Just as the people knelt were wrapping up, it got quiet and MaryAnne was now standing directly in front of me. She leaned over the pew in front of me and she looked me dead in my eyes and said, "God loves you. This is the first step in your path to being a warrior for Him."

Well....this didnt faze me, really. It was such a general statement and I just assumed she felt the need to make me feel like I was welcome and wanted in this small church's family. She turned and walked back up to the front of the church as the rest of the congregation had started finding their way back to their seats. For a brief moment, Pastor Meyers and MaryAnne spoke to one another with their backs turned and then, he too, found a seat. I was oblivious as to what was going on next. I remember thinking that this must be the time when they pass the offering plate. I was wrong.

MaryAnne began playing the piano. At that same time, I felt a rush of cold chills run throughout my entire body. I also felt an incredible urge to stand up but I fought it off, again, because i didnt want to draw any more attention to myself than I had already.

As I sat watching her play the piano, fighting back the need i felt to stand, and for no reason clear to me, tears began streaming down my face. It was then that I realized that something larger than me was controlling my body. Pastor Meyers stood and walked back to me. He knelt before me and began thanking me!!! Now...if any of you people have any sense of who I am or what I am about, you have to know I was freaking out in my own mind. I wanted to run out of the church, get into my car and drive like I had stolen that fucker. But, I couldnt. I was paralyzed. I sat there and tried to consume what was happening but I truly just did not understand.

Just then, the pastor walked back up to the alter and finished his sermon as if the past 15 minutes just never happened. While he was finishing his preaching and they got to their offering prayer, my sense of being controlled by something other than myself had faded and I thought this the best time to hit the road...and fast!

I stood up while everyone had their heads bowed and I snuck out the back, got in my car and sped off like I was Dale Earnhardt Jr on meth. I wanted to forget about the past 2 hours of my life so I turned my radio on and realized it was going to take more than my simple desire to flee the events of that service. I always keep my car stereo on WCLG 100.1 FM. But...when I turned the radio on there was not only christian music playing but it was the same damn song that MaryAnne was playing while the pastor was knelt before me, "Oh, What a Mighty God We Serve". My car stereo had somehow been changed from WCLG FM to WAJR AM!

The rest of my day was spent celebrating my birthday, kind of. But the events of my experience in church that morning never left my mind for more than minutes at a time, if that. I havent been able to stop thinking about it since.

I wish I knew what it all meant. I wish I hadnt recently decided I should fear God.

Things sure are going to be more complicated for me now. Is that a bad statement?

Is it wrong that I am more comfortable living as a heathen than I am when I think about possibly changing my life to be less of one?

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

jamisue — Tue, 22 Nov 2005 13:06:33 GMT

i would almost delete this journal but there are too many memories of .you. here

jamisue — Mon, 24 Oct 2005 21:12:41 GMT

its snowing.

Fuck Wanda. Fuck her in her stupid ass!

jamisue — Mon, 11 Jul 2005 14:24:16 GMT

Before my mom died i remember her always saying..."If i die, i dont want any flowers at my services or put on my headstone or plot. If people dont want to give me flowers when i am alive then i dont want them to give me flowers after ive died."

Nine days before she passed away she asked me privately to make sure everyone knew she didnt want any flowers in the funeral home where she would be and to not put flowers on her space at East Oak Grove cemetary.

I did make it clear to all of her family and all of my dads family...and to most of her closest friends. It didnt really matter as people still ordered and had delivered flowers, to both the funeral home and the cemetary.

I asked the funeral director about having all of the flowers removed and he told me that he couldnt give me permission and that if i took them anyway...i could be arrested for stealing.

I apologized to my dead mother for not being able to hold up my end of the deal but that i would make it up to her by making sure her small plot in the cemetary would be kept clear of all flowers.

For the past six years i have gone to her headstone and always cleared it of any flowers that someone might have left. Of course i get cussed at and shit on over it but i intend to keep my promise to my mother.

Now this is the point of my story that almost got my ass thrown in jail last night. I went to my moms plot and noticed that for about the 9th or 10th week in a row someone has left a bouquet of yellow carnations laying at the base of my moms headstone.

Well....anyone who knew my mother at all would know that she hated carnations....especially yellow ones. I took the flowers and threw them in the garbage. I sat around wondering who the hell would do that. I wasnt coming up with any answers in my head so i called my dad.

While talking with him i realized it was his new wife who was putting the carnations on my mothers grave. I asked him to put her on the phone but she said she was too busy to talk. I had questions i wanted answered and i had shit i wanted to say so i put my shoes on and walked down to my dads house.

Wanda, my dads wife, was sitting in the front lawn with some of her family. As soon as she saw me coming she turned her head and tried to look like she was in a deep conversation with one of her kids. I walked up to her and asked that we go talk in private, she told me that she had nothing to say about it and that she didnt want dragged away from her visitors.

She doesnt know me too well or im guessing she would have opted to talk privately. But thats okay because i had no problem saying what i needed to say right in front of everyone. I only asked to go talk privately because i had plans of tearing her a new asshole and was trying to spare her embarrassment, anyway.

I asked her why she would put those flowers on my mothers grave....didnt she know that my mom didnt want them on there? She said she hadnt been told not to put flowers there. I asked her why yellow carnations, specifically. She said that they are pretty and she liked them.

I went off. Of course she knew she wasnt supposed to put flowers on my moms grave because i had been bitching about it the entire time she has known my dad. Also...i couldnt prove it really but i know that her picking yellow carnations was her way of being a smartass because it just doesnt fit that she would choose the only flower that my mother deemed ugly.

As i stood there with my finger in her face threatening to absolutely kill her if i found flowers at the cemetary again, her sister had run in and called the police. Wanda told me to get off of her property before the cops showed up and she would forget the whole thing. What the fuck is that?!?

That house and property does not belong to her. My mother worked 16 hour days helping build that house and clearing off that property. She merely lives there. I made that clear [again!]...and i also mentioned that i knew she was only with my dad because of his money.

She didnt take that comment too well and thought she would slap me. I dont even recall feeling her open hand hit my cheek but i do remember it pissing me right the fuck off. I drew my fist back and i hit her so hard i swear i could hear her brain slam into her skull. That felt so good that i did it again.

She crawled about four feet and then got up on her feet and was trying to run to my father when a county deputy pulled up into the drive way. She turned and ran to the cop car screaming that i had just hit her for no reason. I just stood there and smiled, watching her family gasp and panic.

Fuck it...if it takes me going to jail to make it clear to Wanda how serious i am about her fucking with my deceased mother...then thats what i will do. If she and my dad wanna play house and whatever...thats fine...but she doesnt even wanna fuck with my mother, whether she is dead or not.

I sat at the edge of the driveway as the cop asked me to. I could hear Wanda telling her side of the story and damn near everything out of her mouth was a lie. Now it was my turn...the deputy walked over to me and asked me to stand and then he told me to go on with my side of what happened.

I told him that i had walked down to talk to Wanda about the flowers and that the discussion took a turn she didnt like and she slapped me. Then i punched her in her G'damn head! He chuckled and said..."Thats all?!?" I said..."Besides me threatening to kill her...yep, thats all that happened."

It was getting kind of dark so he flashed his light in my face but couldnt see where she had slapped me...he took me by the arm and walked me up to the garage where there were more lights. He said he could see that my face was barely blush but that she admitted to slapping me so he knew i wasnt lying.

Meanwhile...my dad is standing around with his thumb up his ass trying to not get involved. The cop asked my dad what he felt should be done about the situation and he replied with..."I just wish they would go their separate ways and cool down and talk about it another time."

The cop asked both me and Wanda if we would just drop it if i went back home and she went back to entertaining her guests. She immediately agreed but i wanted her to agree not to put flowers on my mothers grave, since thats why i was there in the first damn place.

The cop finally got us to agree that if i only went on my dads property after being invited...and that Wanda would keep her distance from my mothers grave, that he would make up a report but not charge either of us for anything. Worked for me, so i walked back home.

If there are flowers, yellow carnations specifically, on my mothers headstone next weekend.....i will have an updated mug shot to share with yall.

Kenworth Kandi

jamisue — Wed, 29 Jun 2005 18:51:06 GMT

her name is Kandi...she's not a religious girl.
she hops into Kenworths to give fucking a whirl.

once in the cab she pulls up her skirt
for $2 more she will take off her shirt.

her eye makeup running and her lip gloss wiped clean
giving head in a big rig can make pretty girls mean.

her skin like old leather her breath of stale smoke,
alot of her peers think her life is a joke.

$10 for blow jobs...25 for a screw
Billy Joe Hollister didnt have to pay back in high school.

the daylight comes and the trucks are all gone..
Kandis boyfriends are hauling on.

rinsing her panties in the bathroom sink,
she looks in the mirror and gives a wink.

her name is Kenworth Kandi and she is a whore
tonight she will work the lot on Route 104.

jamisue — Thu, 16 Jun 2005 21:19:33 GMT

I read chrishaas because he knows that i love him. (and because i do as i am instructed, sometimes.)

do you dare to be bare?

jamisue — Thu, 16 Jun 2005 16:27:55 GMT

View Poll: Your Decision...GO!

jamisue — Wed, 08 Dec 2004 13:42:59 GMT