Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Fun with Pip and Facebook

Today, as I crossed the street, I noticed a guy in a reddish rusty truck that looked like a friend of mine, Pip Sampson, who lives in England and is the drummer for Al. B. Damned. The driver made a weird face at me and drove off.
I posted a status and here is the ensuing conversation:

Kody Thomas: Thought i saw Pip Sampson in a truck today. o.O
Pip: I drive a red truck
Pip: It looks like a firetruck
Pip: but it's not
Pip: it's made of cheese
Pip: It's a cheese truck
Pip: I call it Boris
It was a red truck I did you get to Denver?
Pip: It's a friendly truck
Pip: it flies
Pip: I flew it to Denver
Pip: i'm back in England now
Pip: I had a nice time
Kody: you made a weird face at me and I got worried
Kody: that's good
Pip: Now I'm going to bed because I'm really quite drunk and it's 7.30 AM ///// ARGH!!!
Bree: WOW! Kylie...I fucking love you
(1 person likes this ((pip likes this)))

So pip is crazy. And besides Joe Crow, who isn't in ABD , he is the only one that talks to me. ^^

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Without You..

What you don't understand is
I'd catch a grenade for ya
Throw my hand on the blade for ya
I'd jump in front of a train for ya
You know I'd do anything for ya...
I would go through all this pain, take a bullet straight through my brain
Yes, I would die for you baby..
But you won't do the same....
-Bruno Mars, Grenade

But I die...
Without You...
-Mimi, RENT

Why does this hurt so much? Why, when I look at you and her does my heart stop in anguish like you just tore it out of my chest. And I'm sick of it.
It wasn't enough to dump me for her, an online girl. No, you had to talk about her, knowing how much it hurt me.
You now have to shove this new girl in my face. You kiss her, cuddle her next to me. You know it hurts me, but that's what you enjoy, am I right? You love my tears, you love how I crumple into a shell of my self before your eyes.
I saw you, after rehearsal. You didn't know, but I cried today. I sobbed during rehearsal. Because of Without You. I couldn't focus or work during my big last practice before it, because of you kissing her.
You didn't know...or did you?
You looked back at me, knowing I was watching, and you kissed her. 3 times you did this.
You heard my sobs, how could you not? How couldn't you hear my tearful call to my grandmother, practically wailing in my utter anguish.
You know what you do. If it was a play, I'd give you a standing ovation. If this was a movie, I'd watch it over and over. But it's not, it's my life and I can only fall to the floor and whimper as you and her laugh.

Leave me alone. Stop flirting with me when she's not there. Enough of your abuse...I can't take it...

This once red heart I drained for you
Is empty, cold and black!
-Al. B. Damned, Hate To Love You

If my body was on fire
You'd watch me burn down in flames
You said you loved me, you're a liar cause you
never ever did baby...
-Bruno Mars, Grenade

Today for you!

So, a basic update of recent events.
I got chorus in the play RENT, a huge Broadway hit musical. I got picked, which is exciting mainly because 3/4ths of people got cut. So at least I got a part!
I sob everytime I even listen to Without You or I'll Cover You (reprise) It's so emotional...

I got the secxond main role in my theatre classes The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Meaning I got mother. Yes, a mother. I'll let you absorb that.

I've been watching Food Network a lot. Food...mmm....

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Everything Can Burn (Inspired by Al B Damned)

*The premise of this story is largely based off of the song Everything Can Burn by Al B Damned. You can find lyrics at

Grey and Black. Grey and black.
Grey sky, black house. Grey ash, black skeletal frame.
Grey and black.
I stare at the charred skeleton of my old house. So dark. It used to be this beautiful two story house, out in the country, surrounded by woods.
The blaze is over. Now that house is just rubble and ash.
I can imagine how it is inside...but I need to see. I need to somehow justify these actions. Clenching my fist around the pack of patches, I make my numb way forward.
The door falls open at my touch, black as my shoulder length hair. That's something all of us hair.
The floorboards groan under my weight- my underfed frame seemingly too much- punctuated with the crunch of former windowpane shards under my feet. I look up. The roof is gone. Just beams, cracked and charred. That's interesting...
I continue my morbid journey, to my sisters room. The dollhouse kind of survived. I mean, it's still there, just a much darker version. The teddy bear is a pile of ash and formerly shiny black buttons. A pair, of course, for the eyes.
So I...leave. I don't need to stare any longer at the now anorexic looking bed frame. Don't need to touch the melted plastic fibers of the synthetic carpet.
Continue the journey. Parents room next. I push open the door, which falls open at my touch, just like the front door. This door is more grey though. Maybe 'cause I started everything here.
The smokey haze drifts towards me. I wave it away, looking for an image I can engrave into my mind. Look towards the dresser. Broken perfume bottles, shards of the elaborate gilt-framed mirror. Bed's next. A glint of sparkling diamond, a flash of platinum bands. The four poster is skeletal looking as well.
No need to dwell, this is enough. My actions did this. My hand and a pack of cheap matches.
But is it justified?
I don't look at my room, I already know it's gone, ruined. But...
I look up the staircase. It isn't so bad there, the ebony banister, covered in a polished veneer, protected parts of the wall. And there's a picture of us. I come closer. Yeah, a portrait. Like the ones you get from Sears, staged with a blue background. Two parents, looking like a 50's era mom-and-pop. A little girl in a ruffled dress like a doll, 7, 8, I don't remember how old she was. Ever so cute, little pigtails, a missing front tooth; you can see it in her huge grin. And reluctantly, my eyes stray to the son. Me. 18. A freak in this normalcy of the portrait. Shoulder length black hair, pale, wearing a Misfits shirt.
The rest of them are looking at a fixed spot up and away from the camera. The son- me- looks directly at it. Challenging it, stubbornly engaging the lens in a staring contest I'm sure to win. No smile on my face either. A straight, grim line.
And how long ago was it taken before they threw me out? Turned my sister, my light, my joy, my very reason for life, against me? How long before they threw me into a wall, shoved me down the stairs, all while beating me with a belt? To convert me to Christianity, of course. How long befiore they watched me lying crumpled and broken at the foot of the stairs, shuddering and fighting back tears...and handed my sister the belt?
How long?
I can't bear to look anymore. She just looked at me, said 'You're bad,' and hit me in the face...
Am I bad?
I know this answer. Stumbling down the stairs, I hold my face, covering my eyes. Need to get outside...away from my light and joy...and my parents...
I burst out into the light, turning towards the hulking frame. "You betrayed me!" I scream. "I couldn't EVER be what you wanted, why!?" Fall to my knees, beating the dead shriveled grass. "You rejected me! I was your son!" I scream wordlessly after this defiant declaration, throwing handfuls of dirt at the house I destroyed. Me. I caused this...cremation.
I throw another handful. "But everything can burn!" I wail. "Everything can burn!"
The tears inch down my face, stinging my reddened eyes. Ash settles on me.
"You're bad."
I stand, swallowing back my wail of frustration. Swallowing back my tears, my pain. Turn back towards the trees. A stump, a hanging rope fashioned into a noose. Prepared for this moment, the moment I realize she was right.
I stumble towards ti, my feet catching and dragging on the uneven ground.
Onto the stump. "Everything can burn." I say, quietly, slipping the noose around my neck and tightening it. "Everything can burn..." I whisper...
And kick the stump away.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

America's Next Top Anorexic

Is it just me, or do almost all models look like sickly anorexic girls? This is what's hot now; a waist so small you can put your hands around it.
Gone are the days of less than 20 years ago, when models were curvy, and had hips. Remember Marilyn Monroe? Pam Anderson? In those days, these women were the epitome of sexiness. Nowadays, models look like sticks. Unless you're genetically predisposed to it, it's damn near impossible to be 5'10" and weigh 100 pounds. These women are flat. They look like boards. And everytime I watch a modeling show I feel like a fatty because I have hips, a butt and boobs. My boobs are size B. Not so big, but in the modeling industry, those are huge.

Did you know? In the modeling industry I'd be considered a 'plus size' model? I'm 119lbs, I have a slight curve, but I'd be considered plus sized.
Anyone remember that one episode? This girl, 116lbs soaking wet, was told to model. They were doing African animals. This girl, because of a tiny pooch in her stomach, was cast as an elephant. The other girls were gazelles, cheetahs, skinny lithe animals. Because of a tiny extra 2 pounds, and because she ate a bit more than other girls, this model was humiliated, and essentially called fat.

How many guys do you think are into the flat chested sickly looking girls? Not many, I'd bet. Girls are putting themselves through hell to acheive this 'perfect body', and most guys DO NOT find that attractive!

I for one, am sick of feeling fat because I have hips and a tiny stomach pooch. Enough is enough.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Drama Drama Drama

Save it for your mother, my dears.

These past two weeks have rather drama filled. Like, to the point of me taking my pills like candy. (Slight exaggeration)
It all started with a boy (don't they all?) named...Justin. We'll call him J so I don't get sued. J and I have a love hate relationship, us being exes and all that. Many days I wish that it was legal to use my INSANE fingernails to make him...hush?
So, me and the boy are already hugging eachother, yet ready to stab if threatened.
And let me JUST SAY, I had enough on my plate. My then boyfriend and I had been, let's say strained. We made plans to hang out on Halloween, this did not happen. How disastrous....ok yeah, I'm mad.
Then I refuse to speak to him. Yeah, I don't like being scorned.
It got worse on Sunday. My cat, Jason, has an eye infection. 5 different papers are due. I'm way behind on everything. Then me and J start screaming at eachother on Monday. I cannot divulge the full extent of- oh who am I kidding, he called me a bitch and cussed like a sailor. Then he threw some hot chocolate in my friends face.
That day, a friend of mine informs me that I am now single. Yippee Skippee.
I confront my now ex about this. He tells me that he was hearing things I said. Namely, from friends whom I DO NOT HANG OUT WITH.
I informed him that those same friends told me he was cheating on me.
He told me who. I went into a blind rage. Because these 'friends' were making things UP. My 'friend' Sora told Alex I was hitting on him, and I was still obsessed with J. A guy who wants to gt in my pants and a girl who wants to get into my exes pants told him I was calling him a whore. A guy who I've been fueding with ALSO told him bullshizzle.
And I was done. Sora knew NOTHING, NOTHING about how I felt about Justin. And he said I was hitting on him because I HUGGED HIM. I HUG EVERYBODY!!!!
Then, the dear friend? Who informed me I was single? She volunteered to do my ex's dirty work. She volunteered to dump me, for him.

Drama drama..

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Morgue than Words

Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by life that I want to just scream.
I want it all to stop for just a moment. Like school.
3 teachers assigned homework over Fall Break. Because I'm really going to remember to do that.
Then I moved downstairs. Meaning all my crap was tossed in my new closet. So after digging for an hour to find my makeup and junk I want, I wanted to just cry. It was SO EFFING MUCH.
And 3 weeks ago, we were made to go to a school play. Only problem is, I had made plans long before the time and dates were up. So, there was no way I could go.
I have a crappy grade in that class, I'm sure.


Life goes too fast

Monday, October 25, 2010

Thespians UNITE!!

So, I am in a theater class. High school Intro, but still, I'm in it. And single handedly THE BEST ACTRESS IN THERE.
I revel in it. It is my drug...kidding. But I love being on the stage.
Whenever we're asked to do a project that involves writing a script, and acting with a group, I am the first in demand. please, I had 3 characters ready to go. Before starting the class.
As we speak, I'm writing 2 plays. One inspired by Mr. Sixx, and the other about an insane guy trapped in a hospital with poor treatment, stuck in his own mind. Oh yeah, I'm slick. My teacher read the latter and said it broke her heart. very deep and so on.
So we were asked to do full makeup for our character, any character, like The Joker, then go onstage and do a scene. Mine was from the play I described. So I ratted my hair and made shadows. I get up there, do my impression of a stark raving lunatic, and finish...
Besides the Oompa-loompas who did very well, I was THE BEST. I say that with no false pretenses...I'm like the Raul Julia of our school. Quirky, yet able to BE the character.
I got one of the leads in the class's play. I'm the only one besides the Oompa's who remembers deadlines.
Man I'm good.


I'll say it. Boys suck. They really do. Boys are like strawberry pudding. No good.

I give you my exhibit A. tyler. The last word in clingy guy. I suppose if you're all into guys who walk you to class and never let you go, then he's great. You know, the training wheel high school boyfriend. But I'm sorry, celebrating week anniversaries? Not so much.

Exhibit B. The last word in FREAKING SCARY. Justin. oh Justin. So sweet and kind...yeah, no. Besides pretending he was possesed by a freaking DEMON. (Yes kids, demon) he is back with his ex. Online. You know. Not so good for my little ego.

Exhibit C. RJ. Yeah...I know he reads this, so I'll be kind. Still into me. Man, it's akward...

Exhibit D. Sora. Kisora-san. THE MOST INSENSITIVE GUY I KNOW. Give him a complicated female problem, like, monthly anger, and he'll say 'don't be angry.' yeah no.

I hate boys.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

B-day list!


Itunes Giftcards
Hot Topic Giftards
Sephora GiftCards
Best Buy Giftcards
Barnes&Noble/Amazon Giftcards from....


Friday, September 3, 2010


Sooooo...I joined intro to Dance this year, cause I'm cool like that.
I figured MAYBE there would be 4 of us. For 120$ each, I mean, the class could have stayed afloat.

HA! Try um, 30.
But there are 10 of us there for dance and not the credit!!!
So, if you read my mother's blog, or you have me on Facebook, you've seen the fruits of this class.
Yeah, that's all you're getting. I a never allowing filming of my dances AGAIN.

I look white. Very white. Nerdy white. And lord I try not too, but it's HARD.
These dances are not meant for those with no arses or anything resembling a size A chest.
I cannot shimmy. I can hip bump, but that's because I took belly dancing with my mom. I have the most flexible hips in my damn school.
But shimmying my shoulders, AKA boobs? It's not going to happen.

And again, I look rather white. Try dancing hip hop when you do not possess that coordination. It's not fun.
And we are dancing to Jason Derulo, of "Jaaaasoooon Derrrruuuuuuuulo!" fame. Yeah, you've heard it, don't play dumb with me.
And Sean Kingston. Yes, mr. Shawty. He says it an awful lot..
And Taio Cruz! Cause I wasn't flustered enough!!!

Homecoming? I'm not even attempting those moves. Hips, you are back in action! Get to bumping!

My Dark Place Alone

Sick, Am I sick?
And for these last five years I've been stuck up in here.
Inside this brain that drains into society, injected in your veins.
Give me hand grenades, give me razor blades,
give me anything to make the pain go away
Cause these pills don't work, Sometimes they make it worse...
--Murderdolls, My Dark Place Alone

I put my faith in a bottle of pills
Cause it's the only thing that makes me feel...
Like I connect with the human race...
-- Gunfire 76, Something for The Suffering

This month, in a word, sucked.
I'll start by saying that this is NO ONES fault, this is just a combo of my meds failing, and my inherited manic depression.

So, this just kind of starts from about 2 weeks ago? Got a boyfriend. Normal, sweet, had plans, polite...
But I just started high school, serious relationships are not my goal. This guy...oh my god when you start planning out when a kiss is going to happen, do not be surprised if I BAIL.
Then I have homecoming coming up...and I asked the guy I had a crush on, which got crazy confusing and I somehow got a guilt trip...a girl I kind of know...not the most gorgeous girl out there, kind of an outcast...was about to ask him...
And I felt so insanely bad...

On Thursday in health class...we were asked to write down goals. Ok I admit I could have faked this assignment with 'go to college!' 'be a psychologist!' but instead I wrote
dont hurt myself
dont kill myself

It's true, but that creeps out people...
And when you're batshite insane and you get to sit there and hear about the illnesses you get a bit flustered...
And I can't get 3 FEET OF SPACE, can't talk without a flucking INTERRUPTION, people do not just SHUT THE HELL UP...I'm in a class where maybe 4 of us are in there FOR. THE. CLASS. The rest are goof offs who figure EASY A!
Then they ask obvious questions...ASININE, if I may...
Then me and my mom had a fight...and she tells me I cause all the drama in the house...kind of a downer, I'll be honest.

I've been wanting to hurt myself for the past 24, 25 hours? All the guilt I feel over everything will not GO AWAY...and I can't even put into words the shite that is happening!
I'm at the point where I actually want to check out Children's AGAIN....just to know I can have help...and I HATED IT THERE.
Imagine having no contact with people...and all you need is a flucking hug...
That's how it was there.

So, I don't know. It's ok now but what about tomorrow?????

The lights are on, but no ones home...

So this month, the new Murderdolls cd and the Al. B. Damned debut cd came out.

I'm poor so I only have snippets...but I love it.
Wednesday...(the lead singer of Murderdolls) he just...I can identify with him. So much.
Our pills dont work anymore for either of us.

So get ready for like 5 posts in one night, ok guys?

Saturday, July 17, 2010

A summary of Kody Lawless

Kody Lawless, author of this critically acclaimed blog, is a chick of many facets. She's the hair metal Elvira of the decade, with more makeup on her face than Nikki Sixx on a bad day. She's the culmination of Alice Cooper and Blackie Lawless, with a donation from Tracii Guns and Mr. Sixx himself. Her clothes are black as night, and she's hardly ever seen without her leather jacket. Her boots push her up to 5 and a half feet, with room to spare. Often she slurs her words, laughing at the worst tines. She loves too much and too deep. In fact, she has the Tommy to her Gina, the Sid to her Nancy. He puts up with her crap, making sure she gets some kind of sleep. Her eyes freak many out, as do her prowess with a rifle and her connection to animals. She watches old horror shows, like the twilight zone, religiously. She writes at times, but it's rare. Her forte is history. And war. Her pants cut off the math gene, so she's a bit lost there. Her Tommy often says it's cause of the 'looks that kill'. He can exaggerate a bit....
But most of all she's a Hollywood Vampire, an Electric Gypsy who loves everyone.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Sixxth Chance

Nikki Sixx is my fucking hero.
He's died 3 times, lived to tell about it and touched many lives.
It all started in 7th grade language arts class which is a fancy way of saying Writing class. We were assigned to do a report on a book that reflected a common problem, then report on that. Being the 80's fan I am, I chose to do Nikki Sixx's book and disguise that as drug crimes. You know because I love reading diaries of crack and heroin addicted bass players.
Honestly I had no idea how scary his book is. Not kidding. I thought it would be a little...I don't know. Not this.
And listening to the soundtrack that goes with it? Seriously you will never do weed.

I know Nikki isn't a great rolemodel to most. But I'm never doing drugs, that's for damn sure.

Monday, July 5, 2010

What's in a name?

So, I feel the need to ask this because it's bothering me;
Who came up with these little boyfriend/girlfriend nicknames!?
Seriously! They're so weird, and I feel odd saying sweetie. That just doesn't work, especially for me. And BOO!? What the hel-ck is that!? Rappers, no one uses that, so stop saying it. And shorty is stupid dad actually says it....
Just to re-cap, my family is white.
And baby? Ewwwwww....that only works if you are deaf.
Honey's too sweet too.

So what should we call ourselves?????????

Welcome to the Electric Gypsy

So today I was playing around with iTunes, and I noteced a very sad thing. I spend 17$ on glamrock anthems. Yes, I bought seventeen by Winger. It's weird because instead of sticking to L.A Guns, I bought 3 Cinderella tracks, a band I haven't ever listened to. Then I splurged on Ratt. Even some LA Guns tracks that I've never heard. So I think it is safe to say I was born in the wrong century/decade. And of course the wrong musical period. I think I was a groupie in a past life. Next time I get a moment I will put up the pix of my 80's costume. yes I wore headbands. And if I dare say it, I was a sexy female Tracii Guns. Or Phil Lewis. And my hair won't spike up with hairspray or hairgel so I could not be my favorite Nikki. Sucks! So anyone else a total groupie girl?

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Hey sweetie, I really love you! REALLY!

So, as a couple of people have mentioned, I may have been a little harsh in my last post.
But throw me a bone, I'm mad. That fight made me cry like my little sister when she can't have a popsicle...
So first, I'll give you the deets (my mother is screaming, I hear it) and how I really feel.
You're not getting his name. So no asking...yes Lily that means you.
So, it all started with my oldest, most...ok loved is too strong a word...cousin Ryan calling my newly made ex a f*g. So, after this went down, causing my cousin to look actually rather...witty...and he to look...semi EFFING CRAZY, me and him started talking.
You know, maybe-I-should-just-die kind of talking.
And I kind of went off the wall. Started screaming and telling him the usual things.
And then I started talking about just because he got called that, didn't mean he needed to die.
2 hours later my back hurts, my eyes hurt, I want to cry.
BUT, my anger can't exactly hide the whole twitterpated OMG HES SO SWEET feelings.

Which I will write down now. I have no fear!

I love you totally and completly. Which is not fair, you a$$, because that takes up too much emotions. And damn you for bringing them back to the surface,.
You're like my Leonardo DiCaprio, or my Johnny Depp, whatever you want to call it. i'm totally not afraid to talk to you about things, like marriage. Which I haven't but I'm saying, I'm not afraid to.
And dammit you are the only one who thinks my love of Jason Voorhees is cute.


Stupid Genes...

So, My mother's dad's side of the family is notoriously bad with relationships.
My father's side too...
I'm semi-doomed to get 5 divorces, I think. You can't argue with math.

So, let's talk relationships!
Obviously I fail, right. That's what the blog is about, like um, see above.
My last 3 FAILED like Edward Cullen. Just FAILED.
First one I spend 7 months pouring out my heart and soul too, and in return I get cheated on. Then dumped.
Next one just ends like that. I don't even think I knew it was coming. Quite frankly, I'm bad at those signs. You can hint all you want, but I won't get it. Spare me the niceties, eh?
So, the latest lasted 2 weeks. I kind of thought that one would work out. But I get a bullcrap excuse about how not ready for a relationship he is, yada yada, but at least he still cares about me, thus tossing me that little scrap of hope that no dumped girl needs.
Thus ending in a one upping match of me spilling out my little heart and soul but it doesn't matter cause I doubt he gives a sh!t.

I hate falling in love

Look, hair dye!

I'm thinking about my poor poor hair right now.
It must hate me...
What started all this were two blond streaks at the very very front of my hair. (If I had bangs, they would be bangs.
It stayed that bleach blonde for about 2 years.
Enter 8th grade. I dyed my streaks an acid green, which now that its gone, everyone enjoys telling me they hated it and it washed out my face, etc.
My face is pretty much white, you can't wash that out...
So after 2 rounds of acidic green, which unless your hair is black, looks terrible, I went purple.
For Halloween because I'm cool like that.
Everyone liked the purple, so I went red. For X-mas cause I coordinate sooooo well.
If I remember correctly, everyone liked that.
My hair just begged me to let it fade, dear god, let it fade please...
So I dyed it blue. And everyone went mad over that. Lurved it.
After 2 months, it fading, etc, I covered up the streaks and added dark red, NATURAL low lights.
Which worked for my father's wedding, but eh for me.
Enter my now dark brown hair.
I love it.

So, my one maybe 2 readers, what should I dye it next???

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Official Emote-ing Time

It's been a long hard night. Long. And hard.
I'm exhausted, everything hurts, and I'm hungry.
Why so exhausted?, you say. Why are you hurting?
I had the longest fight with someone I've ever had besides...well...((FAMILY BLOG KODY, THIS IS NOT ABOUT THEN)) I pretty much poured out my heart and soul, begging for a scrap, a shred of dignity that never came.
My emotions are rampant. Right now I can't wait to get home. (Been in Alaska visiting family for the month) I just can't believe I opened up that much.

I've noticed the longer fights are, the more ridiculous they become.

My First Official Blog Post

So, this is my OFFICIAL first blog post because I changed my mind, it's going to be a family blog!
I'd better start from the beginning,
I'm Kody. (Or Ky, to those out there who know the truth) I'm a glamrock superstar- no thats not it. A hair metal rocker queen- close Ok. A Horror movie feind with a taste for the morbid, and a love of guitar.
There we go.
I'm a 1- year old, with an attitude.
I suspect its from my mother, or from the love of Motley Crue, but you can't be sure.
I own a cat, named Jason. No one is surprised, I know.
He is a black and white monster, a spoiled brat with a love of giving me dead mice.
I'm a sister to Liz, Hayley, Gary and Will (Herr Willabus!) respectivley 5, 8, 13 and 7 months. They are annoying, but I do love them so.
I'm a demmy-crat (democrat) but I believe that as long as you can back it up, I'll stand by you.
I like to say I'm a military brat, that and born in Arizona, which are half truths.
I'm not a brat, got spanked too much for that!
I love gothic things, being as that I am one, and cheesy old slasher flicks/Munsters&Addams shows. I love the glamour of the 40's, and if I could, I'd be the new Elvira
But whatever, i'll settle for tattoo-ing.
My passions are my guitar and my music, which is usually tuned to either Al. B. Damned or L.A. Guns. My jacket is leather, my boots are silver. My car is a Honda Shadow motorcycle, my makeup is black. My hair...well....its dyed. And my family? It's complicated.
I'm Kody Thomas. Hair metal rocker fiend!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Odd, isn't it.

Sometimes the right people are right there in front of your nose.
Like my mom's side of the family. Not a divorce, besides my grandmother. They are all great, and kind, and THE KIDS.
there are kids EVERWHERE. Most of them I haven't met!
There's about 10 that I can remember right now, not counting my brother, sister and I.
Yeah. Met 5 of them.
So why the heck is love so hard to find for some people?
Where's my sensitive guy from every horror movie who dies second? I want him! Now!

It's odd I say that, only being 14, but I'm so jaded from horror movies like Nightmare on Elm Street, that I think love in the form of Johnny Depp is just around the corner.
And it may be?
meet RJ.
Sweet, kind, funny, same interests.
He lives in Washington. And is older than me. I'm not inclined to say how old, but he's over 16.

Yeah. why is everything in my life so frickin' hard!?

Anyway, I have 2 reveiws coming up, I'm getting on them tonight. I'm keeping my promise of reviews.

Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th (2009)
woo, suckish remakes

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Voorhees to the max

So hell-o everyone. This'll be my first blog EVER!

My subject for today will be DRAG QUEENS!
Specifically, RuPaul's Drag Race.
I am in love with this show, even though I myself am not a queen.
The show opens up so many opportunities for Queens across America. So, I'll give my opinion of my most favorite...and MOST HATED Queens this season!

Pandora Boxx
I LOVE LOVE L-O-V-E Pandora Boxx. I knew I would, the second she said she was inspired by Kathy Griffin. She is so beautiful, and so creative. When she's all dolled up, she looks like a woman. That is great of course!

I both love and hate Miss Raven. Her cockiness drives me INSANE, but she is so lovely, and so expierienced. So..kudos Miss Raven.

OH SHANGELA!!! She, after Pandora, was my FAVE! She may not have been the best, but she was so spunky, and clearly, even though she'd been doing drag for only 5 months, was good enough to be on the show.

Tyra Sanchez
I hate her. It's not even a 'love to hate her', I just flat out hate her. She is aggrivating, annoying, and MEAN.

The Asian Queen! I'm rooting for her, because in a way, she reminds me of Ongina, my favorite Queen EVER. So...root for Juju!