Breaking the 4th Wall with Smokey-Jane...

How a woman can have one every time...GUARANTEED!

2011-03-31T16:23:00.000-07:00

Smokey jane is APPALLED at how woman have been ignored sexually for centuries.
Did you know that women didn't even KNOW that they could have orgasms?
Appalling.
Well, folks...you DO you what this month represents.
Oh, not just April Fool's and the Russian New Year...
This month is...
WOMEN COME FIRST month.
(applause)
This is the funnest month for both men and women alike.
This is the month where every woman, every day this month MUST have an orgasm.
( Skip a few days for emergency or recovery time)

IMPORTANT FACTS ON HOW TO MAKE A WOMAN HAVE AN ORGASM.
1. ( Get out your notepads..) A woman's whole body needs attention...whether it be from long, passionate kissing to toe-sucking to back-rubbing to thigh massaging to...(other things)

2. When orally pleasing a woman, treat her whole area from her clitoris to the end of her vagina like a triple-stack ice cream cone. Suck on her clitoris GENTLY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD until she instructs you that it's okay to proceed to vaccum the color from it with your mouth.
A. Full, flat tongue
B. Slow licks
C. Occasional *lip-blows against the clit for extra drama.
* Holding teeth closed, blow through closed lips producing a vibrating motion like the sound of a motor.

3. ( Using a dildo or a real penis)
Do not insert phallus into vagina until the following three things happen...
A. Her juices are clearly reaching her thighs with anticipation.
B. Her clitoris is large, ripe and sensitive to the touch.
C. She lets you up for air.

Imagine a world, where the woman came first at all times.
Imagine the nag-free life a husband can have if he takes the time out to make his wife's toes curl up before breakfast in the morning.
Imagine the ass-whoopins a child will skip because his mama wasn't overangry at the fact that he forgot to load the dishwasher last night.
Imagine the wars that will be prevented because the president didn't feel inadaquate for not being able to please his wife last night.

If everyone takes the time out to give a woman a proper orgasm everyday for a month, the energy of happiness will fill the air and the world will indeed begin to change for the better.

Smokey Jane Guarantees it.

The Chain-Email Assassination Attempt..

2011-03-28T15:35:00.000-07:00

Smokey jane says "Stop it!"

Aren't you tired of checking your email for important messages...and then recieving a message sorta like this:

"I love you and I wish you happiness all the days of your life!
Send this to nine people or you will lose a loved one."

Don't they understand ( with their dumb-assedness) that this is a CURSE that they are sending?

People of the internet..STOP IT!

Chain emails are like pyramid schemes...Nobody wants to be bothered with bothering other people...let alone be bothered with your bullshit.

Send this to nine people or you be forced to breath air out of your lungs for the rest of your life.

S.J.

The Mystery of the Adam's Apple Disappearance & the Strap-On Dildo...

2011-03-27T18:26:00.000-07:00

Smokey Jane loves the gays.
Don't get Smokey Jane wrong.
Just BE gay.
Don't make me guess...

Look...Smokey Jane knows you gotta be yourself, young Androgynous One...what with your unisex attire and gender-confusing hairstyle.
You even drink your coffee black..with no indication of a penis OR a vagina hiding betwix those standard-issue denim shorts.
How many colors of those Chuck Taylor's do you have...?
Please tell me pink or something feminine so that I can decide on which gender I can talk shit about behind the other gender's back.
I don't mean to be shallow...I just need to inform the young lady your flirting with as of whether she knows that she is a lesbian or not...because I'm sure she wouldn't want to be surprised in the bedroom after a couple of drinks and a couple of dates.

Do you sit like that because of your large testicles, or because of the chaffing of your lips as it grazes across the balled-up gym socked in your men's briefs.

Lesbians, I can't tell you enough how beautiful you are as WOMEN.
You are NOT a man...and that is perfectly okay with a lot of lesbians who aren't looking to be with men.
They're looking to be with WOMEN.

Can anybody explain this to me?

Why do I have an issue with not being able to tell the difference?
Because Smokey Jane must know EVERYTHING.
That's why.

S.J.

Stealing the Internet Without Customer Initiation.

2011-03-27T18:05:00.000-07:00

Welcome 2 http://www.smokeyjane.com/ ,junkdogs!

Smokey Jane is nobody's bitch...oh no!
This mouthpiece is bound to fit a nicely manicured foot within its warm walls sooner or later...so it might as well be sooner.
I am an avid WIFI snatcher and for good reason.
Many coffee shops and swanky grocery stores offer me the satisfaction of pleasuring my kleptomaniac clitoris by offering unlimited bandwidth for my many downloads and large file distribution that I wouldn't be able to bear on my own cable-package plan.
For this, I salute you...
Kroger..
Mickey D's (I have graduated from real estate school within your lobbies..Thank you.)
and that grocery store in Colorado off Sheridan Road...hmmm..
I'll come up with the name..damn, I hate to forget my enablers...

S.J.

Am I the April fool?

2011-03-26T14:26:00.000-07:00

There's only one logical reason why a person in his or her "right" mind who knows how being broke feels like, would actually CHOOSE to be this way day after day.

Idiocy.

There's no reason why anyone who knows what being broke feels like, would actually CHOOSE to remain this way if they aren't clinically/ mentally touched by a different ungloved hand.

For the past few tears I used to live broke...

Always wondering where our next meal was coming from...
Always borrowing money from people...
Always praying for GOD to get me out of the hole..

Its all an illusion of the mind.

Just like everything else.
Think about that.
I did.

I am my foot, I am the sun.

2011-01-02T14:16:00.000-08:00

DAMN, I took a long-ass time to blog back after a tremendously long transitional period in my life.

Honey, I have gone through one spectrum of the industry to the other in a matter of weeks...lemme tell ya!

And as I carve faux Satanic symbols into the barsoap of life while I rest my tired bum upon the golden throne of the future, it never ceases to amaze me as to how I manage to manifest so many memorable moments in this phenomenal existence.... due to the many perceptions that I have stashed away amongst the abundant variety of skeletons in my closet.

Hey, fuck you if you don't like to play in left field once in a while!

FOR, my name is Smokey Jane!

No disrespect if you feel as if I have offended you.

No disrespect if you feel as if I have yet to impress you to the point of mentally masterbation to my image.

That comes naturally.

In the meantime, I sit here in this lawn chair shivering outside in the cold afternoon sun.

These fleece pants may be fraying all over the carpets, but they are making my legs so comfortable in this winter air.

Time to masterbate a little bit, in a desperate attempt to warm myself up...or at least thwart my mind from thinking about those poor skiers that get stranded up in the mountains and their noses turn black from frostbite.

It's pretty late in the afternoon anyways.

The sun is leaving a shadow-casting upon everything now.

Nobody can see me smoke this joint on this lawnchair with my hand shoved elbow-deep within the comfort of these awesome fucking pants.

Everyone should be inside already, taking their home-from-work shits or making din-din for the kiddies by now.

Nobody in their right mind would be out here at this kind of temperature besides me anyways.

And, it's for the best that I sit outside regardless, for in my possession is a facsinating sort of sticky-icky that I managed to acquire from a traveling Central American metal band.

This particular sticky-icky, when released from it's confines, it' manages to stinks up the house with such a thick and heavy aroma of the rainforest that only an outdoor consuming would be understandably tolerated.

Smokey Jane consumes.

I'm listening to Alan Watts and I pray to the gods of Illusion for his milky British accent to send me to another place inside of my mind.

A place that will take me far, far away in this magical lawn chair and occupy my mind with wonderful things to see and do so I won't have to think about those precious hash browns I placed in the oven a while ago to combat my munchies within it's shapely, starchy potatoey goodness baked to an ever-so-golden brown in the oven.

About six minutes left.

I got my handful of stolen McDonald's ketchup packets gripped tight in my fleece pants pocket as I utilize them externally against my hyper clitoris through the soft fabric.

Shaking with anticipation and carnal delight, I feel like an old priest watching the schoolboys rough-house in the guzzling water of an open fire hydrant on a hot summer day when it comes to waiting for my munchies.

Especially when your stoned out of your mind.

Your in the moment and time ceases to exist for a little while.

Isn't that right?

Feel it as that little drop of happiness touches your spinal cord sending waves of satisfaction and assurance that everything that exists is so fucking wonderful.

So, I snatch my hands out of my pants and fetch a few emergency candles from underneath the kitchen sink and attempt to light them outside to pay homage to existence before the sun went down.

The fucking candles wouldn't stay lit, so I happened to come across some fireworks that supposedly must have been saved for some special occasion that I decided that THIS would become.

You only live once in THIS lifetime!

RIGHT?

I lit those sons-of-bitches right there in that basement and carried them up the stairs and out the door into the backyard of our beloved suburbian home.

BOOM!

SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOOM!

That was the last thing that I heard before I opened my eyes in front of a lot of strange and unfamilar faces...

Oh, wait...

Wait a sec...I recognize one of them now...

What the....!

I believe that one is.....Jesus?

Yep!!

That one's Jesus, alright!

Oh, there's two of them!

A black one and a white one!

Who'dda thought!

And theres another one who looks like Oprah in schoolteacher drag...

Damn, she sure is showing some major hard-nipple through her fluffy pink sweater.

My masculine side begins to habitually stroke what looks like an erect 16 inch Carolina-blue penis coming out of my body.

Smurf-tastic!.

Immediately, I stroke to ejaculation while surrounded by an entourage of people whom I know aren't real according to the fact that at least two of them are Jesus.

I fall asleep to the sound of police sirens in a mist of fog and skin-numbing icy-hotness that only excites the pure bliss inside of my soul that I must express through shouts of pleasure and showtunes of the Disco Era.

Hands all over my body.

A prickly blanket of warmth covers me as a record plays backwards in my subconcious.

The words seem to say...

MAKE LOVE to EVERYONE
EVERYONE loves EVERYONE.

Let's LOVE EVERYONE FOREVER

...a mouthful of compressed oxygen to the lungs,

....an adrenaline shot to the heart...

...and a five thousand dollar ambulance trip later...

I am here to tell the tale of happiness.

Is there such a thing as too much happiness?

If it is...we sure do try to stop it with our negative thinking don't we?

Yes, sir.

That is why we create conflict for ourselves.

It's only natural.

That's why there exists such a phrase as..

"too much"

Trust me, it's a true statement.

For some people...

But, for me....

It doesn't matter that we had to put the house up on a $150,000 bail so I can enjoy these few weeks of fresh air and whatever freedom that I have left.

It doesn't matter about the counts of public nudity, arson and rape charges I'll be facing next month and the fact that I'll be giving birth to twins next summer due to something I must of gotten myself into that day, which is still an experience that I still can't quite remember.

It doesn't matter about the fact that the home I burned down had a lapse in the insurance premium and now we live in a tent on the grounds of the charred remains of our precious memories while recovering from a missing ring and middle finger that happened to be blown off mysteriously.... perhaps due to a explosive device of some sort.

No, Ma'am!

What matters is that life is great!

And I intend to look UP from now on!

Love,

Smokey Jane.

(P.S. Just kidding about the pregnancy.)

If you don't mind...It won't MATTER..

2010-11-27T20:52:00.000-08:00

This is Smokey Jane here

on this fine after-Thanksgiving fiasco!

I'm here to give THANKS to all the good things happening my life AND in yours.

Not that I honestly give a shit about a fucked-up holiday of historical debauchery formulated into a traditional celebration of gluttony and hidden territorial barbarianism.

No, sir...

What I'm talking about can be celebrated all year round.

Wanna know what it is, boys and girls?

Here's a hint...

Did you know that being grateful is the BEST thing you could EVER do ANYTIME ANYWHERE?!?

For serious....

Why it only must be publicized once an illusuionary year?

My Goodness, I watch the friggin' news and what do I see?

I'll tell ya......It sho ain't the sale at the local Piggly Wiggly anymore.

How can I know that when I watch the news and pay attention to all the negative things going on in life..that I'm not helping the negative EXPAND?

It sure doesn't make me very pleased to watch yet another old lady get raped in her own home or some reckless PTSD victim beat their kids to death with the family cat.

It doesn't please me to see that shit on television after coming home from driving two hours in traffic.

Why wouldn't you choose to feel happy by watching or listening to something happy.

I don't know...maybe I'm crazier than I claim to be.

But, doesn't even the slightest amount of attention to something negative, make it THAT much more REAL?

You take in the energy of something not needed at the time.

and it slowly takes over your power of harmony.

Your strive for peace.

We are all connected.

But,we can only pay attention to one life at a time.

So pay attention to your life and stop living someone elses...

Do me THAT favor.

Be grateful for the good shit.

Have you ever heard of this expression..?

"Mind over matter, if you don't mind it, it won't matter"

HAVE YOU?

Of COURSE you have, Silly!

If I pay attention to people treating me badly, I give THEM my power...my attention.

And does anyone who makes you feel any less than your naturally happy state DESERVE your power?

HELL-to-the- NO!

So, my advice?

Be grateful for all the AWESOMENESS happening in your life!

And more will come..

I promise.

Now, get the fuck outta my face and go throw a frisbee or something...

Love,

Smokey Jane

Keep your Facebook armor on!

2010-11-25T06:25:00.000-08:00

Hello and Happy Turkey-Basting Day.
Smokey Jane here.

I feel like an idiot because I didn't even re-up my weed stash before these fake-ass holidays.
I don't even deserve to call myself Smokey Jane right now.

My bong is as empty as a Christian stripclub.

I stayed up all night handling bizz..going back and forth on FaceBook during my breaks.

I found out that some of the people I've added on Facebook don't even deserve to be on my page!

I call myself trying to be nice..
( YOU know what I mean!)

There are times I'm in a good-ass mood and I go on Facebook and read the depressing shit people put on there...they can really blow a high, lemme tell ya!

You got your cryers, your complainers, your haters...

You got people who wanna push ebay shit on your wall.
( Who all here is hella tired of looking at those stupid-ass sneaker heels! I DON"T WANT THEM!)

You have people who just have nothing else better to do other than post their life bit by bit.
(I'm eating a sandwich right now..Bacon and cheese....It's good.)

Delete their posts if you don't wanna delete them as friends..they will never know!
Forgive them, Lord..they know not what the hell they're doing to my buzz.
Keep your armor on, Facebookers.

Let no one take your focus...
Unless you WANT to know what flavor soda Michelle is drinking today.

Happy Puffing!

Love,
Smokey Jane!

I can do bad AND good all by myself...asshole!

2010-11-20T08:31:00.000-08:00

Smokey Jane here!
I had a conversation with a dude the other day about chivalry.
(God, I hope I'm spelling that right. Probubly not because it hasn't been used in a while!)

Anyways, it seems as if some men are upset by the fact that woman are starting to make more money than them.

They think we are getting uppitty in the fact that now we have more power in the workplace...more say-so in corporate America.

They feel that they don't have to pursue a woman....or open the door for her for that matter.

They feel that they shouldn't have to pay for the date.

I say "Shut the fuck up and stop being so fucking insecure."

I can recall a while back when women couldn't even VOTE!

We stayed in the house and cooked, cleaned, raised kids and got a good conjugal raping every night with no orgasm in sight.......all without pay.

That's cold.

We were your property, dudes.

Second-class citizens.
And you loved that shit..didn't you?

Don't lie..

The pussy was yours for the taking.
Any pussy you desired and all you had to do was ask her owner and hand off a few acres of land...maybe some prize-winning livestock.

Now that we have established ourselves as equals...you have a problem with it...doncha?

You hate those Tyler Perry movies of women empowerment...doncha?

As a matter of fact, most American men would rather have a black man become president than a woman ANYDAY, wouldn't they?

You don't have to lie to me...I already know.
So all that insecurity has finally come to light, hasn't it?

So you say to WOMAN, Bringer of Life"You open your OWN door, BITCH!"

And we wonder why more lesbians exist today more than any other era.

To all you sexist sons-of-bitches...
( Some dudes are cool..I'm just talking to the ignorant pricks here..)

We are all equal.

But differently equal.

You have the brawn that we need.
We have the brains that you need.
You can open a jar of pickles and play in the NFL.
We can suck a mean dick and have your children.

We feel like we deserve to be treated like a woman deserves to be treated.

We are princesses and we always WILL be.

That's what our Daddy taught us and that is what we will always think.

If you can treat us better that our Daddy, your IN THERE! (pun intended)

So now that you know the secret..just play the game...You like football don't you?

Just because we can do this by ourselves, that doesn't mean we WANT to!

Unless you like the idea of being a sour old man with cobwebs on your penis.
Good Night!

Smokey Jane....2010

Hump Day

2010-11-17T22:44:00.000-08:00

Hey, it's ME!
Smokey Jane.

This Hump Day is a special one...
Why?
You are still above ground, that's why!!
So, let's celebrate this Hump Day with some of my home-made brownies!
Your friend.

Sex and the Silly..

2010-11-17T18:02:00.000-08:00

Hello, Smokey Jane here...

Bloop,
Bloop,
Bloop,
Bloop

Thanks...

          Now, back to reading...

   I, like most sound-
    minded women,
    enjoy some cunniligus before intercourse.

Also known as...( are you listening guys..)
FOREPLAY.

My rant today is why men need to eat more Hello Kittie.

Okay?

I will gladly lay down and cheer for the men who don't mind scuba-diving for pearls and the ladies who like the ladies...I have nothing but respect for you.

Yesterday, I was making-love, right?

Two orgasms in the corner-pocket...four sessions.
Mathematically, this means that out of four times, I climaxed twice.
WTF?
This is NOT right.

And why?
Because not only was I NOT relaxed the first two times...despite the fact that it was lacking one very important topping.

What is wrong with men who are afraid to sample the dessert cart before enjoying the meal?

From this point on, any man who is afraid or turned off by cunnilgus if officially gay in my book.
I have many gay men friends who won't go near a coochie with a ten foot pole and I completely understand.
Hell, they like penis!
So, ladies..if you have a man whom you actually have to ASK...

Go ahead and write him off as a gaylord and go find a more willing participant before you fall in love with someone who would rather pile-drive a dry meat taco than play the slippery accordian with his mouth.

Any comments or complaints..take it up the ass. (Pun-intended)

And that is my rant.
Smokey Jane....2010

(P.S. I found out later that I DID get some head that night, I was just too wasted to remember.
Hey, at least I was honest.)

A Wake 'n' Bake Moment with Smokey Jane...

2010-11-11T07:50:00.000-08:00

Salutations, Earthlings and not-from-Earthlings...

This is Smokey Jane!

I am currently listening to "Riders on the Storm" by the Doors while freezing my girl-balls off.

Why am I freezing my girl-balls off?

W.T.F are girl-balls in the first place and what exactly do they and the whole testicle phenomenon represent to society?

Do you actually believe, for that matter, that I would have the type of "girl-balls" to admit on a global scale of having an item of male genitalia attached to my person?

Are people THAT stupid?

Many of these questions are obviously the result of a previous chiefing session in my neighbors garage this afternoon after passing by them on a morning walk with Flounce to the liquor store for my breakfast scotch.

I had the "girl-balls" to stereotype them as people who might be stoners.

They were.

OH....this song coming up is by Nick Drake.

(Listening intently..eyes rolling back in ectasy)

"River Man"....priceless.

http://www.playlist.com/playlist/additem/446839313

Nick Drake could of been somebody HUGE!

His voice was like warm milk with a spoonful of Nina Simone's ghost haunting the soul of it.

Jesus...

There is no thought when listening to him sing.
Sometimes him and his guitar would be the only two instruments on a song....but because of all that energy that came from him , it naturally filled up all that space.

....one would assume he had a whole lot more on him for a kid.

He did.

Nick Drake could have been somebody BIG.

He could of had a girlfriend ( or several) or bag himself a wife (or several) ....

He could of had a couple of kids, solidify his legacy....
you know...
He could of finally been happy for once.

But he died at 26.

Nick Drake could have been somebody BIG, Dude...

But, but he was a withdrawn, reclusive genius with a small audience during his time.

He simply did NOT want to get on that stage!

If only he knew then ...
how BIG he is today....

Damn...

If only he knew just how beautiful he truly was and how absolutely soul-grabbing his music is and always will EVER BE....

If only he knew what he might have meant to someone...
Or to himself.

Maybe he could've found the will to stay a little while.

See...

how the world had changed because of his presence...

So, I say to all of you out there who has ever gone thru depression and suicidal thoughts like I had before I took control of my life....

There is something inside of you that can bless the entire WORLD!!
Everyone of you sons-of-biscuits has it!

So, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE..don't give up just yet.

You never know what an impact you could make in our lives if you just stick around for just one more day to find out what that is.

We are all seeds.
We are all here to blossom into flowers and bless the Earth with our beauty.
I love you.

Smokey Jane.....2010

Private Rebellion in the Within the Perimeters of Conformity....

2010-11-05T12:18:00.000-07:00

Smokey Jane here!

For the first time in a while, ever since I ceased my gypsy ways and became a suburbanite, I have once again decided to look up at the sky again.

I am now a wanna-be conformist for the sake of maintaining a facade...a facade that needs to be maintained as long as I enjoy the conforts of privacy.

What was I thinking in the past?

Did I HAVE to be a nudist in rebellion of clothing that I believed represented the classifications that became the downfall and chaos of many societies beforehand?

Did it even matter that my individual thoughts and perspectives had to be known to all that was in earshot?
What was it all for?
To represent WHAT?
This time, I will live for myself within the comforts of my own abode as I blend in with the ones who just prefer to be left alone to rebel in private.

Smokey Jane 2010

My cup of holy water

2010-10-29T09:33:00.000-07:00

My Cup of Holy Water....Lawd have MERCY on ME!

She's a Good Girl Now...

2010-10-27T20:13:00.000-07:00

Hi, Everyone in Internet-Land!

I'm Smokey Jane..

Lately, I have been on Cloud-friggin-Nine lately and I have no idea why. Although, I'm usually not the one to analyze things too deeply when things are going well....( I'm lying of course..) I have decided to analyze it anyway. ( See..?)

For those of you who don't know...I am a diagnosed bipolar schizophrenic...and the way I feel right now, I actually feel quite silly admitting that. I am not on any drugs and I'm completely sober as I'm writing this blog and I would very much like to sit down with the person that I was a week ago and tell her that it's really going to be okay very soon.

Just last week I was suicidal and on a very heavy binge of alcohol and drugs to attempt to combat my previous feelings of unworthiness. I didn't know how much more I could take.

One day, I decided to let go of everything. What I mean by that is that I felt like I had the whole world on my shoulders. I couldn't sleep right...I couldn't eat right....I couldn't concentrate on anything and I didn't want anyone around me for a very long time...and then something inside me said...

"Let it GO!"

So I did...
I couldn't have felt better..same reality..different perspective.
That's it.

Any questions..please email me at:
i.love.smokey.jane@gmail.com

Because I really have nothing else to say...less truly IS more!

Until then guys and gals!

Smokey Jane...............2010

When I'm Up...I'm UP!!!

2010-10-25T12:44:00.000-07:00

Hello, you wonderful people out there!

Smokey jane is the name....positivity is my game.
My wish is that it stays this way...FOREVER.

For the past three days, I have been on a natural high. I've been energetic, laughing and joking with random people I see in the stores and on the streets. So peculiar that I ever felt suicidal just under a week ago..
Thus is the life of a bipolar schizophrenic supermodel.

As of now, I am on my bed with a pillow under my tummy just how I like it. My laptop has about five tabs open specifically geared towards prosperity articles and potiential clients, whereas under a week ago, I was driven toward people who have killed themselves and what they have done to change the world by their death.
Polar opposition to the furthest extremities!
At this particular moment, I have no need to call the suicide hotline and cry quietly over the phone. I have all the time in the world to listen to the rain with delight and munch on some seedless grapes while contemplating another momentous power-move towards my own prosperity.

In reality, I feel like such a fool to feel the way I felt earlier.
What did I do right this time?
How can I keep this feeling?
Am I doomed to a dangerous emotional rollercoaster for the rest of my life?
Will I finally succumb to artificial means of medication through prescribed anti-depressants?
Was it all a mental illusion....a medically-labeled cashcow brewing from the stress of making a living in the world?
Do I truly have full control of my feelings and emotions?

All I know is that I am truly scared...and I hate to admit that have no idea if I may or may not have full control over my feelings and emotions...
Do you?

Just Another Cry for Help...

2010-10-22T20:04:00.000-07:00

I am Smokey Jane.

I am writing this blog so people will be able to remember me if I fuck around and don't show up one day.

I may seem like a humourous, little cutey to everyone looking at this physical body, but like the words of Smokey Robinson...

"Now if I appear to be carefree
it's only to camouflage my sadness
in order to shield my pride I try
to cover this hurt with a show of gladness..."

I am here for the rest of you who sits...unmedicated...in bed with the door closed and a backlog of tears. I don't feel like talking to anyone...who wants to be around a downer?
Athough, being paid attention to would be kinda nice...then again...for WHAT?

I am lying here, staring at the ceiling...contemplating the outcome of my death once I establish a way to do it and who will take care of my responsiblities once I'm gone.

Sure, it might be a cop-out to some people, but everyone is different. There are certain capacities for some people..I just happen to be one of those people with a very low capacity for tolerating the way I feel.
I'm tired of the way I feel...
And I don't even give a fuck about anything anymore....why should I?

Someone told me that I allow myself to be unhappy.

I can see the logic in his statement: Why decide to be happy...when something is bound to come along and fuck it all up again. At least that is the pattern in MY life.

The pain is just too bearable to keep going up and down like that, and no amount of alcohol or any other controlled substance is going to keep me balanced enough for the huge gaps in my well-being.

Smokey Jane in her Depression Mode...

2010-10-20T18:14:00.000-07:00

You can laugh all you want,
but this is how Smokey Jane use to think..

Of course, this is not a positive outlook..but it is an idea of what most people suffering from manic depression have to go through..

How can anyone succeed with a negative mindset?

You guessed it...

For Smokey Jane...it's nothing but Smokey Jane!
( Results may vary)

A day in the life of Smokey Jane....

2010-10-16T16:10:00.000-07:00

Lately, I have been sorta down in the dumps and I don't know why.

People....they have good intentions.

But, why...OH WHY is their favorite pick-me-up standard along the lines of...

"Cheer up! Your only sad because you want to be!"

Well, no offense...but fuck you, Buddy.

If I wanted to be sad, I wouldn't have to figure out when my next shot of tequila would come from. I would simply put one right in my brain and be done with it.

I am Smokey Jane.

I am a self-medicating manic-depressive schizophrenic supermodel born in Los Angeles, the land of lost angels.

I know its difficult to understand how I could feel the way I feel.

Hell, I don't either. But, that is why I am writing this blog...for all the other beautiful souls suffering from manic-depression like me.

And lemme tell ya....its a whole lot more underneath than what is on the surface. So, when someone reaches out..please don't turn your back. It might be the last time you do.

Feel me?

I am trying so very hard not to go down the path of Donny Hathaway, but I sure a do understand what he was going through.

My cup of holy water!!

2010-10-15T16:01:00.000-07:00

My cup of holy water by Smokey Jane!!

"I'm a motherfucking Goddess!!" screamed the woman living in a box.

2010-10-08T20:27:00.000-07:00

                            I ponder my existence and how we made it this far...
       I guess this is just one of my moments when after all is said and done....and the shit has not only hit the fan, but is beginning to change color like the autumn leaves on this blessed October day...

I manage to inhale and stand outside myself in order to assess my existence and make sure my fuck-ups aren't re-runs.

    And I hope life so far this year has been anything but boring....

I suppose what I'm trying to say is...
I am grateful for making it....

shit...

              It wasn't easy..

hell...everyday there was at least one thing that didn't go according to plan (again)

and my struggle for optimism in the current situation slowly fills that FUCK YOU bubble in my belly so big until it hurts to walk...

Let the fart of idleness ease from my being like smoke from a choo-choo train...
                               and Lord......
             please make sure no one is around!

                             Anyways, I just try to stay focused and be happy..

I managed to find a way to fake that shit until eventually I made it!

                             I am Smokey Jane.

                               Welcome, all you hungry souls...

                   I am an all-purpose artiste' and a spokesperson for mental disability awareness and how it effects a person's life...
                                             Why?

                    Because, I am a product of mental disability....and it is still a struggle of mine.

                      I have been diagnosed with manic depression with schizophrenic tendencies..

                                           ( Some people call it just plain fucking crazy...)

                                                (And I can be a crazy bitch if provoked.)

Just like yesterday...

I think I'm pretty attractive..
I'm an excellent asset to my family.
I also think I'm talented and shit like that..

Cool.

But, how come I had to call the Suicide Hotline because I believed in my heart that I was no good for anyone and I really really really wanted to find my father's gun and blow my fucking head off.

Of course, if it wasn't for my family whom I love so dear....I might have.

But, as the people on the hotline spoke their love and kindness into my heart, they made me realize that my family would be devastated.

They would probubly would not like me after that either...as I thought about it.

And as I finished boo-hooing
it dawned on me that killing myself would be damned selfish of me..

But that was yesterday...

Today?

I feel EXCELLENT!!
And, do you know WHY?

Three letters.

Can you guess?

Give up?

T.H.C.

I love it what it does for me!!!
Whether in a smokable form,
an edible form...
I can take it in the pussy or under my tongue...
I can crush it in a pill and take it with my fucking orange juice all I care!!!

Man, just as long as I got it handy....

I...feel...good.

And there's really nothing wrong with the other medications out there when it comes to certain people...
Everybody is different!

And I've had it all from the time I was seven years old.
You name it,

Haldol..
Risperdol..
Celexa...
Zoloft...
Paxil,
Wellbultrin,
Lexapro...
Seroquel...
Alcohol..
and Adderall...

and the only med that I need to which the only side effects for me is a little bit of the munchies...

             Is that MJ...

              That OG Kush...

             Those Northern Lights...

             The beloved lady White Widow...

             That Shiva or that seductive Purple Haze.

Trust me, I''m not only here to be poetic...
There's something about it when I partake of it..
That makes me feel...

Focused and ON POINT!

Like, I know exactly what to do..
when to execute...

Step by step by step..

I'm not worried about anything...

Nothing seems to bother me...

I am doing what I do and loving every minute of living RIGHT NOW...

It's where everyone should be..

Although, I found out that some people are that way naturally...

Hell, I wish I was one of THOSE people.

But, I'm not.

And it took me a long time to realize that.

Mental illness is a REAL fucking thing!!!

So, anyways...

I'm not advocating weed for everyone in the world to use......

I just know that this is the reason why they call me
Smokey Jane.
Just, in case you might ask later.

Love you!
S.J.

The Enebriated Chronicles of Bra-less Debachery and Bloody Lips.

2010-10-03T20:33:00.000-07:00

So one of her favorite aunts flys into town to mix business with pleasure.

Some well-deserved tailgating was in order.

To put it mildly, the majority of the people in Smokey Jane's family could appreciate a good time.

Naturally since the B.E.T. Awards and the Sweet Auburn Festival are around the same time this month, it was quite possible to assume that somebody's weekend was sure to be an oblivious hellbox of drunken rituals and Hickory BBQ-scented shits all the way through to the 4th quarter of the last football game on Sunday.

It has been quite some time since the ever-reclusive Smokey Jane has let her girl-balls hang out, so she gladly agrees to be forced upon her reluctant relative for a night-on-the-town.

Poor relative of Smokey Jane.

She can easy vamp-back into the days of yore with her wild niece and cringe at the teamwork of mayhem and grassy-assed embarressment.

Together, they both knew what the unchanging result of releasing a hedonist wildchild out into the streets of Atlanta with seven-inch stillettos and a credit card.

Say farewell to the last shred of religious decency we dare to call society.

Smokey Jane brings out the first round of drinks from the kitchen.
(Why make a slow start, I presume.)
They clink glasses together in agreement to nothing in particular and begin to discuss the unwritten itinerary.

First a ride through town in the back of a chaffeur-driven Maybach where Smokey-Jane proceeds to carefuuly pull out a peace pipe from her enormous and furry hoe-bag.

Hoe bag
[ Hoh-bag]
noun.
    1. an enormous version of a women's purse that can hold a wide variety of goods allowing the owner the freedom of convienient housing options for the weekend.

  This particular bong is a comedy favorite of our pervertedly-humourous and psychedelic Goddess, for the bowl pack is carved right in the center of an erect penis and testicle set made of glass.

(She cleverly calls it her Dong Bong.)

Out pops her laptop which fits neatly onto her fishnet-decorated lap .
She carefully pulls out a fairly large plastic bag about the size of a plum to which held within it an ample portion of White Widow and proceeds to continuously repack while discussing the philosophies of medical marijuana as they zig-zag through the heavy traffic along Ponce De Leon.

They arrive fashionably on-time, busting through the plush decor and plastic greetings to their reserved center-stage table where they could easily catch the sweat glistening from another epic performance by one of her blues singer friends in Little Five Points.

After an amazing first set filled with heavy dancing and continuous rounds of Scotch, the ladies wait for the fellow entertainer so as to personally roll her a well-deserved joint of high-grade Kush before heading out to another club in Decatur.

This well-know lesbian city is  alive  with traffic and cigarette smoke.
They are escorted  from the vehicle into a venue known for a fun night of Open-Mic.

Smokey Jane, who has by now stripped free of her bra begins to dance a
beeline to the center bar...all eyes on her bubbly boobs and credit card moves.

She takes off her glasses when the drinks arrive and dances erotically with her aunt, teasing the crowd and diverting their attention from the house entertainment.

Shot glasses clink together as they pause between the rhythm to toss the Scotch down with an easy flick of the wrist.

Smokey Jane pulls a middle-aged Korean businessman from his chair next to hers and proceeds to dance with him. The man is clearly alone as his face lights up in awestruck horniness as she rubs her slinky body around his beergut while the equally-drunken crowd begins to cheer the odd couple on.

She wakes up on an unfamiliar bathroom floor as the light above the sink casts a shadow of what could pass for a crime scene before her.

It's 3:04a.m. according to her shit-covered Blackberry lying by the toilet above her.
She manages to stand and assess the damages in the mirror.

A busted lip.
No glasses.
No wallet.
Muddy heels.
Shitty jeans.

She checks her implants to make sure they're still in place and runs a luke-warm bath.

TO BE CONTINUED.

What a couple of glasses of Merlot can do for your insignificant worrying..

2010-10-02T11:55:00.000-07:00

Hello, ye ol brethen and sisteren...
It is I...the infamous and blatantly maniacal Smokey Jane...and even though it is still morning...I have managed to adaquately lace my circulatory system with enough depressant to comfortably pull out a tooth.
Not a wisdom..OH NO, dear god, no!

That would be the H/O to end all H/O.

Yet, I feel a slight relation to the cast of Jersey Shore, I am not yet in the mood to pull up my shirt as of yet.
If I do...I promise to make a short video for your stimulation.

I am sipping on a glass of Merlot after a breakfast of steamed broccoli while trying my best not to contemplate anything at all.

Thus living the life of a Goddess, and so it be.

I never once decided until now to actually BE a Goddess...I simply spoke about it senselessly and ( here's the word..) contemplated how it would be to become one...
Yet, if one contemplates..one is already trying to hard.
This is why I love blondes!

As I sip on my Merlot, I notice how flagrantly dry it tastes, and how I detest the dryness of some red wines.

Some, who know me well would say that I drink, not because of the taste, but for the percentage...
I agree, whole-heartedly.
Could I ad a comment to an easily-judged admission and say that I also drink Merlot for the antioxidants.

Not that I could give a shriveled-up rat's vagina what you think about my well-oiled palate....yet almost ironically, I do care about your anitioxidant levels.

Smokey Jane.

When the last remnants of my religion was stripped away...

2010-09-26T11:51:00.000-07:00

I stopped praying after I left out of Walmart with an empty basket for the last time.
My son tried to cheer me up...but he knew there was no going back.
I lost my belief in God.
And it hurt.
It hurt because of all the years I've wasted believing a lie...a false tradition of religious control spanning centuries.
I looked back at my life and realized that it was ME that made it happen...

God didn't force me to join the service...I simply wanted to get away from my overbearing mother.
God didn't give me a son....I fucked a man and through that scientific process, a baby was concieved.
God didn't cause me to become homeless...I simply wanted to drop out of society and it just so happens that the van that I was living in broke down because I never even gave it a tune-up after driving over 100,000 miles.

I get it now...and boy does it hurt to realize that if I knew what I knew THEN...I would of probably done it differently knowing that it was ME that was responsible....not any outside disturbance.

I now know why so many religious people hold on for dear life to a deity outside of themselves...because when you realize that there is no one out there...you feel so alone...and no one wants to be alone.
But we are not alone...we have eachother.
And once we strip all this physical off...we will realize it was US all along..it always was!

King James hired scholars to write a book of laws and stories according to HIS liking..to control the masses through fear and powerlessness...of course if it was done any other way other than the king's way..those poor scholars would obviously be killed.
After all...they already lost their power to a King who knew the power was within himself all along.
I suppose that was why he was king.

I feel bad for all the fearful people making all these preachers rich...but I realize that it was the perfect plan of control...of mental slavery.

I used to feel unworthy without God or Jesus...they told me that I was.
The bible told me that I was.
And as long as a person feels unworthy...they give up their power.
And who wouldn't want to give up their power for an entity who knows all, sees all, is jealous, who kills at will, and has the power to do any and everything your heart desires...

AS LONG AS YOU OBEY.

I struggled with the little bit of food that we had left....starving myself so that my son could eat a meal.
I prayed that my credit card would work so that I could purchase three weeks of healthy meals...even if that meant I had to pay some overdraft fees...but I left out of Walmart with nothing but a hungry child and the last strip of faith I had in an outside deity as I waited for a ride back to a place that was not our home.

Why do children in other countries go without food or water?
Why do women get raped and children get molested?
Why are their so many people in prison for crimes they didn't commit?
Would GOD allow that to happen?
NO...but we do!

Blame humanity...blame ourselves!

I vow to take responsiblity for myself and not ever rely on outside forces that don't even exist to solve my problems...I am no longer a child!!!

No longer I kneel in submission, wasting my time depending on something outside of myself to solve my issues...I am the issue...I am also the solution.

No longer will I give my power away to a community of self-loathing.
I am in control.
I AM.

And one day I will look back at all the bullshit I've gone through in my life and a tear of gratitude will fall...for that was the day the last remnants of my religion was stripped away.

What is the cure for myself?

2010-09-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

I already know about Law of Attraction.

I already know about faith and belief and blah blah blah..

All that shit is garbage without the wonderful world of drugs.

How do I know?

I am a clinically-diagnosed mental case (thanks to my childhood HELL).

I can be the walking undead and never leave my home for months if I don't do a few bonghits every blue moon to get me out and mingling.

And every few days out of the week I get into my bouts of bipolar/ depression tendencies if I haven't had a nice glass of Merlot to stop the old brain from thinking too much.

That is my problem, folks.

I THINK TOO MUCH!

Isn't that the problem of every chronically depressed individual in the world..?

Of course, not everyone is the same.

I can drink one or to glasses of wine and I'll be good... while others can't seem to stop.

Well, Honey..

There's a limit to the madness...But I sure as hell know why they pick up the glass in the first place.

In their minds, they are screaming.." Something has GOT to save me from myself! Let THIS be the cure!"

Doctors are idiots when it comes to this mental anguish that they claim to know so much about.

How many doctors are schizophrenic manic-depressants with bipolar tendencies?

Not many employed ones, that's for sure!

What's their cure..?

" Hmmmm....Let's stop cold turkey and gather in a fucking drum circle and talk about our feelings.

Oh!

By the way...here's another drug to take the place of the natural ones you were self-medicating yourself with....heehee!

Just to warn you that the side-effects will fuck you up even worse that before...

By the way..Here's my bill."

Listen, you medical school know-it-alls....

You trust-fund 'quacks' who get all their info on life from books....

MAYBE WE DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT OUR GODDAMN FEELINGS?

MAYBE WE WOULD RATHER CHIEF IT OUT WITH A NICE ROLLED-UP KUSH BLUNT AND KEEP MOVING FORWARD...

MAYBE WE NEED MORE PEOPLE IN OUR LIVES WHO CARE....

MAYBE WE NEED A WAY TO SHARE OURSELVES WITH THE WORLD SO WE CAN FEEL BETTER ABOUT OUR LIVES...

MAYBE WE NEED A WAY OUT OF THIS MADNESS WE CALL "THE AMERICAN DREAM"

Who knows..?

All I know is I could have offed myself years ago...but something/someone always kept me here on this crazy planet...so I'd better stick it out and see what's in store for the future..

Now, pass me a beer...