You've got to be kidding me. I'm nerdier than SEVENTY percent of all the people who took this test?? What?? HONESTLY?? I'm a nerd-hor?? Well that's fucked up. (I stole this from EFFORT. Btw. Mr I'm only 25% nerd. Beotch.)

It's not my fault I know that Mn stands for Manganese, it's part of my job.

It's not my fault I own a telescope either! My Dad gave it to me to look at the moon and shit. Moon Shmoon, I use the bitch to spy on DYCK when he's whacking it to "Dirty Booty Porn 11." What? Like you wouldn't spy on people too?

My MOM gave me the microscope and you can't tell me that they're not fun. Don't even try. You know it's neato to look at your hair and shit under a scope.

I know what "C++" is because I like the Dell commercials (I have a secret crush on the cute guy - thank goodness they didn't ask me THAT) - I have to use a book like everyone else to use any programming language. Bitches.

And WHAT?? May I ask is wrong with taking notes in more than one color? I'm a COLORFUL PERSON! DIRTY BITCHES!

Why wouldn't I know my IP address? That one doesn't even make sense. Plus mine is easy so whatever.

AND DAMN IT the ONLY reason I've ever built a computer was because I was poor and lucky enough to be able to get different extra parts from a bunch of people. (I'm actually doing that again, anybody got a hard drive?? It's all I've got left to get!! (well ok and a monitor but I can SO get that at Goodwill.))

Seventy?? Come on, I'm so not that cool.



And Krissie? You HOR. That's all I'm saying, you beotch-in hor. O.M.G. :P

Left Behind - The Bar Version

Okay! Weekend number TWO of going out with friends to "get my mind off of things." I didn't get groped this time, a nice change of pace, but I DID get left at the bar with no ride. At 2:30 in the morning. No car keys, no house key, no I.D. and no money. Let's get this story started -

I met my pal from work at the cool-kidz bar again and he was already there with a passel of his other gal-pals and some cousins. Nice enough people (to ME) but kind of that crazy-we-will-start-fights-crowd that I'm not really part of. OY.

When I first arrived - looking much more appropriately hoochie-dressed than my last time - I made Frankie (my pal from work) take my keys, money and I.D. My smokin no-pocket hor-jeans and shirt didn't have any place to put my shit, and Frankie's usually a good man-bitch. What I didn't realize was that Frankie and his crew had done some serious "pre-drinking" and were all pretty far gone by the time I got there.

SO! By the time I had finished 2 Long Islands (yummy!) and was dancing with a nice probation officer named Ralph, they were wasted. I headed off to the bathroom for a minute and I guess while I was gone one of Frankie's pals Ex's showed up with current baby mamma and some drunken nastiness ensued. Apparently the people I was with were "escorted" out. (oh. my. gawwdd how embarrassing would that be (if you weren't wasted?))

Long story short - They were wasted, they were fueled with drama, and Frankie forgot about me and the fact that he had EVERYTHING of mine in his pockets - and they left. I came out of the bathroom and tried to figure out where my peeps had gone and luckily after a while some nice guy told me that "those people you were with were escorted out." (omg embarrassing for ME now)

The bar was closing and they were trying to hustle people out so I told one of the security guys my situation. He pretty much ignored me, that sucked. After standing in the doorway like a freak for like 15 minutes some really nice girl came up and asked me if I needed to use a phone. I don't know who she was or how she knew but I'll lover her forever. Have I mentioned I live alone now? And that I moved to my job 35 minutes away from my parents? And an hour from my best friend? And it was 2:30 a.m.?? I called my boss. She and I are cool and if she had been awake she would have been happy to come and get me but alas she was asleep.

You guys I can't tell you how freaked out I was! All alone and with NOTHING. At one point I walked out into the freezing night, took my heels off (oh my GOD my feet hurt from those bitches!) and walked around the street bare-foot yelling for Frankie. At one point I thought about asking the police officer with a guy in a headlock on the ground for a ride home but I remembered I didn't have a house key.

The Ralph guy that I had been dancing with was keeping an eye on me in the bar and asked what had happened. I told him and he went on his way but then came back to keep an eye on me some more. I couldn't figure out if he was a crazy-dude or if he was really being nice (so I went with crazy-dude just in case.)

To my surprise one of Frankie's cousins showed up out of nowhere and I thought I was saved. Unfortunately she was drunk beyond what I know how to deal with and her HUSBAND had forgotten her as well. He thought she was with Frankie. Thank God she had a cell phone though and called her husband to come get her. She knew who I was previously in the evening but at this point she was reduced to telling her husband "Baby some white girl keeps talkin to me about Frank, she says Frank has her stuff." Eventually I talked her into calling Frankie and THANK GAWD they started heading back to get me.

Her husband called her back to tell us to meet him across the street and down a ways in another parking lot. Ralph ended up showing up there in his SUV and when I started talking to him telling him we had a ride coming, the drunk cousin announced that "I WANT IN THIS TRUCK! LET ME IN!" Ralph told her that she could get in the back and wait for our ride but she didn't feel like getting in the back. While I was trying to tell her that Ralph was a stranger and that you shouldn't get into vehicles with strangers, she was busy CLIMBING over his lap and steering wheel to get to the passenger seat. Oh. My. Gawd - again. I guess she forgot that SUV's have more than one door.

Ralph was really calm and we chatted for like 30 seconds until her husband showed up. I think it went something like "Oh my god, I don't really know her, she's so drunk, I'm so sorry, you're a very nice man." And repeat. When her husband showed up he had to get her out of Ralph-the-strangers vehicle and I told Ralph thanx again for watching out for me. He gave me his card - lol - I obviously won't be calling but it was nice. So THANX Ralph! Thanx for making sure nobody abducted me out in the cold with no shoes, and thanks for keeping your hands in very appropriate places when we danced - you're a cool dude.

The cousins husband took me to meet Frankie and I was at last re-united with my stuff and thus the inside of my car and on to my home.

Until all of the crappy stuff happened I really did have a nice time. I did my best I'm-terribly-white-and-uncoordinated dancing and had a good time feeling sexy in my hoe-jeans. One of the nice girls that I was out with tried to teach me this choreographed dance that all the cool kidz were doing but I have trouble telling my left from my right when I'm NOT drunk, so that was kind of a bust, but a fun bust. I've had "Apple Bottom Jeans" stuck in my head for 3 days and I quite enjoy dancing to it. (steal it for me Krissie????:):)

So yeah, all's well that ends well (ends well eventually :P ) I guess.

C's story and Clum I Am

C. is being held in a holding facility (immigration jail) waiting to see a judge. His Dad brought him to this country when he was a little boy, he didn't make the decision to come. He was put in school here and went on to graduate High School. He grew up like any other American (transplant) kid - and moving back to a country that he barely remembers, has no history in, job, home or even much knowledge of - never seemed like a real option to him. Hate him if you want, I don't care, he is my heart and my life. But before you hate or judge, humor me and imagine YOU reaching to the age of 18, graduating high-school and coming to the realization that you don't really belong to any country. Imagine having people telling you to "go back where you came from," even though you don't know where that place was.

I'm not writing this nearly as eloquently as I imagined or making my point the way I wanted. I'm a tad biased and involved if you can imagine.

Through circumstances that I can't go into he's been brought to the attention of the INS. I was planning to petition for his citizenship but shit happens/happened and we didn't get a chance.

No, us being married doesn't help in any way, new laws, a new time.
No, there is no naturalization or immunity because he's been here so long, or because he was so small when he came.
Yes, I've spoke to several lawyers now and there is no chance WHAT SO EVER of him staying here.
He's going to be sent "back." (1800 miles away!)
It'll be most likely 2 months of him being "held" before they get around to doing it.
That's it. End of story.

We've got a plan (ok and 2 back-ups) for what we'll be doing to get him back (legally thank you) or at least us living in the same country (again, legally). SOME country.
I want to be able to share what's going on so I'm just plain coming clean with yall. That and I can't keep my mouth shut.

I've been visiting him in the jail - OMG JAIL!! But thankfully for people in his situation they DO have completely separate holding areas, my sweet baby isn't roomed up with bubba that's killed 10 people, and for that I am terribly thankful.

ALRIGHT!! Ready to lighten up? I sure am. WHEW.

Okay, so yesterday when I drove to visit him (only an hour away, thank goodness.) We had our once weekly 40 minute visit where we sit on stools and talk by phone through 2 inch glass. (not really complaining btw, I'm just so happy to see him) The stools are really low to the ground and to see him well I was sitting on one of my legs to prop me up higher.

When our time was up and I got up to go, I so SO did not realize that my leg had fallen asleep. For real you guys I never even felt the pins and needles! Aww man so when I stood up to walk I had no feeling in that leg and a tumbling down I went. BIG TIME.

I heard popping and snapping and all sorts of things in my ankle and because it was numb had no idea of what I had truly done to it. I had to sit there and wait for the feeling to come back to access you know?

Oh my gawwwdd but MEANTIME as I was sitting on the ground holding my ankle poor POOR baby C was behind the glass staring in horror at his lovely chiquita all mangled on the floor like an idiot. He saw me go down but he couldn't HEAR me tell him that I was fine. I kept waving him to go on and kept trying to tell him that "ha ha, silly me, I'm fine" because I didn't want him to get in TROUBLE because he wasn't getting his ass moving!

A nice wave of nausea swiped over me and I felt the blood draining from my face and it was all I could do to keep smiling at him and waving him AWAY so he wouldn't get tazered or something - all the while trying really really hard not to puke down the front of myself.

And THEN my head started to buzz and I got that feeling you get when you're going to pass out and my vision started to go but C. was still standing there and I swear to heaven I willed the faint away and kept on smiling and waving him away.

When I first fell the other visitors in there were really kind and seemed genuinely worried about me. I got offers of help from a Russian family, a Chinese man and a brown guy that looked like he might own a 7-11. They kept offering to help me up and stuff but I kept telling them that "No, no I'm fine, I just need a minute" - because I didn't want to take even one minute away from their visiting time ya know?

C. FINALLY went on his way with a worried look and I was so damn thankful. I put my head down to the floor and tried to get some blood back into my brain. You guys I SO had to go to the bathroom and I was afraid that if I passed out I'd lose control of my bowels like a dead person. Yes, that was my main concern, screw a possible broken ankle, I am NOT crapping my pants!!

Everyone went back to what they were doing and I laid there like a fleece-covered scarf be-decked beached whale for a tad, until I got up enough nerve to try and stand. I managed to get up and decided that I didn't break anything and tried to walk. HA-HA-HA, ok so there was no walking to be had but I'm a good Hopper. I think my ghetto portioned ass gives me a low center of gravity and gives me good balance.

Turns out I'm not broken just nicely sprained and black and blue and a bit gimpy but all is well. I didn't faint and shit my pants or piss all over so I'm calling it a good day. DO people loose control of their bowls when they pass out? I've fainted a few times but never when I had to "go."

C. and I are going to be fine, we'll be seperated for most likely at least a year but I will try and save and fly to see him at least a couple of times. I'll have my passport in about 3 weeks and I'll be all set for when he get's sent "back."

In the meantime I figure I should brush up a bit more on my Spanish and figure out how to say things like "Oh, I'm ok, just give me a minute." "Ooops, sorry" "No, I don't think it's broke." "Where is the hospital" (donde un hospital?) Hey! I think I've got one, that's cool. I'm on my way.

I got a new BOOK!

And I can't get many people to play with me and I totally love this damn book so GUESS WHO get's to play with me??? :) : ) :)

It's a book called "What Would You Rather" and I totally love it.

K, here we go -

1. Would you rather - A. Have a horizontal butt crack -OR- B. Verticaly aligned breasts?

2. Would you rather - A. watch a porn with your parents - OR - B. Watch a porn OF your parents?

4. Would you rather cum - A. Guacamole -OR- B. Hot Sauce?

3. Would you rather - A. Throw 200 live turtles off a 20 story building -OR- B. Burn down an orphanage?

OKAY!! Play with me you's guys and I'll list my answers later in the comments. Okay so the last one isn't sexual but I found I really had to think about it. (sorry kids)

You Do The Blow?

Sunday morning after my fun filled night of dancing and surprise gropings I met up with my pals for some much needed food and copious amounts of diet coke. On the way there I stopped of at a gas station to put gas in my car before it ran out of fumes. Sorry car, I know you always get stuck with the dregs at the bottom of the tank but you're an asshole to me so deal, bitch. (And thanx for not shitting out on me lately *KISSES!*)

I was standing out in the blowing negative degree bastard wind willing the damn pump to give me some gas and stop ASKING ME QUESTIONS. SHIITT it's 20 below - NO I don't want a car wash - NO I don't have a points card - YES it's debit - FINE HERE IS MY DEBIT NUMBER - NO FOR SHITS SAKE I DON'T WANT A FUCKING RECIEPT!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

At that point I was ready to get back into my car to unthaw for a minute before pumping the fuel I'd almost frozen to death to win - but no. The guy at the pump across me decided it was a lovely time to start up a conversation.

The first time he spoke to me I didn't understand what he was saying (severe ghetto accent) The second and THIRD times he asked me the same question I still did not understand him. I felt like a jerk at this point but damn, it seems like he would have given up after my third "WHAT??" But no. Finally I understood:

"Where you be from?"

- I told him the city and he asked me if I was from the city I TOLD him or the one next to it. Jesus dude. I told him again. Next question -

"What's yo name?"

-Said my first name, politely asked for his. (forgive me but I'm a sucker for politeness even when I KNOW BETTER) Next question -

"So wha whad-up? You got a man?"

-My we don't mince words do we? I flashed him my ring and told him I'm married, short and sweet. I figured he'd go away at this point but no, oh my no. His next question I was once again not able to figure out and had to ask him twice. Finally he got out -

"You do the blow?"

HA! Well I finally forgot I was cold. Honestly the first thoughts in my head were "OH my gawd, does he think I'm a prostitute? Oh. my. gawd. and I thought I was dressed NICE today! God does my face look that fucked up? Do I LOOK like a prostitute?" I said the only thing that my brain could manage -

"WHAT??"

I'm really good under pressure. He tried to clarify for me -

"Do you smoke the blow?"

I thought he meant like do you "smoke the pole" and "blow" was just another word for "pole" that my terribly street savvy self was not aware of. Since my brain had a moment to catch up I came up with a more witty response -

"WHAT???"

Notice the third question mark, that would be my exasperation. Like I said, I'm good under pressure. He wasn't giving up on me though, really persevering here -

"Do you smoke the marijuana?"

OHHHHHhhhhhhhhh Ooookaayyyyy I got it then. The thoughts in my head THEN - "Oh well that's great I don't look like a prostitute but I DO look like a pot-head. Damn it I knew this sheep-skin hippie jacket was a stoopid choice." "But I have a very conservative scarf" "My shoes are sketchers, to pot-heads wear sketchers?" "Oh, oh shit he wants an answer." -

"No."

YAY! Look at that, I managed to really use my wit and verbal skillzz. That's me, super-duper- street savvy smart ass, oh yeah, I'm bad.

Ah well it worked out for the best, as soon as I said "No" he jumped his pajama'd ass in his car and was gone in a flash. Maybe I should start with that response the next time a stranger speaks to me. Maybe here in the ghetto I should get back to the basics of kindergarten and "Don't talk to strangers."

I kind of hate that though. I was just trying to be polite and give this man the benefit of the doubt. I've HAD polite conversations at the gas pump before - ok always with weird people or old people talking about the weather - but it's happened.

My lessons from this weekend? 1. Don't trust a fruity man to be gay 2. Don't trust nice old men, and 3. Don't have gas station conversations unless the temperature is above freezing. There is no good reason to start up a conversation when if you breathe in really hard your nostrils freeze to the inside of your nose. *Noted*

Dancing With The Gays

I was groped by a few strangers this weekend. Got your attention?

I didn't WANT to be groped thank you but I was RAILROADED by a guy I thought was just being nice and THEN by a fake gay man.

Let me explian. A friend of mine from work and his pal offered to take me out this weekend so's I could let my hair down and you know, like get my mind off of the shit going on. I.E. - Get drunk. Good friends yes? Actually yeah :)

My pal from work and my NEW pal are a tad older than me and the first place we ended up in was a karaoke bar for old folks. There was much Merle haggard and 70's pop going on but never having witnessed Karaoke before I was at least amused. Thankfully though the place was dead and my pals decided to go to another bar and meet up with another geriatric pal of theirs.

New Bar was just as dead but my new gal-pals friend was really nice. We were hanging out and having a nice time singing along to some chicks singing a Queen song and you know, doing the I'm-at-a-bar-thing. Things were great until the new guy (18 yrs older than me btw) decided that out of the FREAKING blue he would reach under the table and totally grope my leg. I'm for real you guys, I was SO not flirting with old guy - in fact I didn't even really talk to him other than to say "nice job" on his singing and ask a few ditsy questions about the intricacies of Karaoke. For god's sake we didn't even really do SMALL TALK and he was feeling me up! In plain view of the rocks I've got on my left hand by the damn way.

I asked him what the hell he was doing and he said he was "feeling brave tonight." I told the SOB that I'm not into that. My pal from work saw what went down and thankfully saved me. He suggested we pack up and get out of lame-O-ville and go to a REAL club. He knew that old-nasty-bastard wouldn't go for that type of scene and he was right. So on to the 3rd place of the night.

Oh holy damn was I underdressed! FUCK this place is one of those "cool" bars where the young people go to get blasted and bump and grind and grind and grind and maybe even grind on the stripper pole. (omg I so wanted to be up on that pole you guys, I've ALWAYS wanted to have a go on a stripper pole! Fortunately I wasn't that drunk tho) My new gal-pal was dressed for the geriatric Karaoke bar and looked like a right full-on-bull dyke compared to the people in the "cool" bar. Soooo at least I felt a little better not being the WORST dressed. Shallow much? Well yeah but I wasn't the worst dressed so FINE.

The music was great, very up to date dance club music and I was totally feeling it you know? Actually I was standing against a wall trying to pretend that I didn't just fall off the potato wagon on a trip through New York by way of Mayberry. I sort of missed out on the whole cool bar-clubbing-scene when I was younger and I'm just not used to what goes on in these types of clubs. I was trying SO hard not to stare but damn, just DAMN!

A girl walked in wearing a shirt/skirt THING that was painted on and honest to god didn't even cover her ass cheeks. AND she was wearing a THONG! OMG!! All I could do was STARE at her ass cheeks and will her dress to grow another 3 inches all the while thinking "Oh my dear god her ASS CHEEKS are RIGHT THERE! Oh my gosh I can see her REAL ass! That is a womans ASS, RIGHT there! Jesus does she know? Oh, yep she knows, she just tried to pull her "dress" down a tad." "It didn't really work." "OH MY GAWD I can SEE her ASS!!"

Holy Crap it was crazy enough when she was just standing there but when she got out on the dance floor and started doing her thing - I was a goner. She was the DIRTIEST of dirty club dancers, holy shit. At one point she grabbed the stripper pole for support, her dress rode half way up her cheeks and she was HUMPING the floor! Holy shit there was a crowd of about 15 guys and one little white girl (me) standing in awe and watching the show. I had officially fallen off the potato wagon. Hard.

------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, okay, moving on. I had a few drinks and was standing up at the bar waiting for another when a new song came on and this tall, skinny, terribly well groomed and dressed and I'm sorry but FRUITY man came up and started dancing on me. He looked and danced SO SOOOO gay you guys. All I could do was laugh and let him do his little dance. Basically he was the woman and I think he was wanting me to be the man. I hadn't had enough to drink yet to participate in his charade but I laughed, smiled and went off along my way.

When C. and I have gone out before, and when I've gone out alone it is usually my RULE that I only dance with gay guys. Gay guys are my "safe ground" I guess you could say. We can do all the dirty club dancing like everyone else and have fun, but nobody gets the wrong idea you know? I'm not that great that I can turn a gay man strait - C. knows it - and hence doesn’t mind me dancing with them.

So later on after a few beers when the "Gay" guy decided to do the fishing-reel-you-in goof ass move to me from the dance floor I couldn't resist. I FELT like dancing and having some fun after the last two weeks of hell you know? So there we were, him doing the gayest of gay dancing routines all up and around me and I was having a good time just watching him and doing my own little white-girl-can't-dance-to-save-her-life dance. AND THEN. And then all of a sudden Mr. Super Gay reached out from out of nowhere and not even working up to it FULLY encased my left breast in his right hand. And SQUEEZED!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD!!

OH MY FUCKING SHIT!!!

I threw his hand off of me in disgust and all I could manage to get out of my shocked, so very shocked mouth and brain was "Ahhh, NO!" His response?

"I'll bet you didn't know I could do that.

"Huh?? What the ever living FUCK is that supposed to mean? Shit fire and save the matches - I STILL don't know what he meant! Did he assume that I didn't realize he HAD a fully functioning right hand? Was he taunting me with his fake gay-ness? WAS he gay and trying on some Not-Gay training wheels? I have no fucking idea other than the FACT that my little gay-safe dancing world came CRASHING down right around me. Ah yes, and the idea that he was fucking batty as the mad hatter came to mind as well.

So, I ran away. Back to the safety of my wall next to the ass cheek hoochie where I could at least entertain myself with her mere presence. At this point she was sitting on a stool in her shirt/skirt thing - with her legs wide open. You know for some reason I'm thinking that having a pelvic exam would be like going to the grocery store for this girl. Ever the polite-hick that I am, at one point I actually told her that I thought her dress was SO-cool and that I wish I had enough guts and was cool enough to wear something like that. What? I was standing next to her for like an hour and had been watching her ALL night, I had to make SOME sort of small talk. It just wouldn't be polite not to.

I wonder if she thought I was gay? Ah well at least I didn't grope her - groping is NOT polite.

It's Offical - I'm a Virgin Again

I held out for a whole 10 days without ANY sex of ANY kind. I was feeling too guilty to give into any sort of hand-play since my poor C. (I thought) couldn't do any handplay even if he wanted to. BUT, we talked the other night and I guess he's found a way to make it happen, bless his horny little heart. Soooo since HE got it on with himself I was thinking that I should maybe give in to my own lady-flower-needs.

The problem though is that I was and am still too sad to really get in the mood ya know? Lo-and-behold that started to worry me and I came to the conclusion that if I was going to save my lady-flower and not leave her permanently damaged or scared or in need of therapy by this whole debacle that I was just gonna have to get down and MAKE myself . . . DO myself.

SOOOOO I did what comes natural to me - I got my Rabbit, fresh batteries, my astroglide and settled myself in on the couch. I really still wasn't feeling it, I just, I don't know, my poor girl was in lock down. But damn it what a champ! Within 2 seconds of astoglide finding a cozy spot to do it's work my flower BLOOMED! She came back to life with a vengeance and even had a few things to tell me about it! I haven't gone 10 days without SOME sort of sexual SOMETHING since I was probably 12 so to say she was a tad pent-up would be an understatement.

Jeez I was so sensitive, it was pretty nice if I may say. BUT!! BUT, after going so long without, she seemed to have clamed up a bit. My Rabbit ladies and Gents is by no means a small toy, but hell I've NEVER had a problem with it in the past. But this time when it came time and she WAS ready, man I just couldn't take the rabbit without discomfort. Was I loose before?

No. Just no.

*lalalalalalalalalalalalalala*
*HmmmmHmmmHmmmHmmmmmm*

What ever the case I'm SURELY not loose now. And DAMN IT I want to be able to use my favorite toy again! I've got a 10 pack of fresh batteries!! FUCK! I guess I'll start slow and dig out my smaller starter toys from back-when. I guess I'll have to work my way up to the rabbit again? Huh, who knew?

One cool thing though, at least I know for the future, when C. and I are reunited, I'm sure as hell gonna go on a two week dry spell before we meet up. Not that I'll be loose or anything *lalalalalalalalalalalala* but it'll be nice to be good and extra-wonderful for our debut.

I'm such a Jackass

I went to the gym two nights ago - not so much because I WANTED to work and sweat my ass off but more because my pipes were still frozen and I needed to take a shower somehow. I could have drove 30 minutes to my parents house (well 45, bad weather) but I figured what the hell, I paid out the ass for this gym membership I might as well take full advantage of it. SOoo I packed up my clothes and products and a big-ole-towel. The biggest towel I have of course, being the prude hor that I am I'm not keen on traipsing around a public locker room with my bits and pieces (ok chucks and slabs) hanging out for all to see. What, what? Hors can be modest too thank you.

SO blah blah I worked out, got nice and sweaty, and headed to the showers. Did I remember to pack my fer-fliggin-flip-flops? Well of course fucking not, that would require me to not be an idiot. Of ALLL the things ya know? I haven't seen a sign up in the locker room about a flip-flop rule going to and from and in the shower but come on, there HAS to be one. And if there's not and bitches are skankin around in there trading fungi - quite frankly I want no part of it.

So what ta do ya know? If I went to work the next day having gone TWO days with no shower I might just scare away our customers. Sooo I got the idea to get nekkid in the bathroom, and walk my ass out to the shower with my tennis on. I figured I'd take them off when I got in, break something that I HOPE is a rule and disinfect my feet later. I didn't hear anyone in the locker room so I opened the door to sneak out and THERE she was, a lady I see there every night I go, waiting to take a piss. And there I was in all of my day-glo-towel-glory, legs unshaven since C. has been gone (SEVEN DAYS) and my tennis shoes. She was kind enough to give me a full body once, twice over, throw a disgusted look at me and leave to take her piss.Shit.

Ah well I was willing to suck it up for cleanliness at this point so I scurried my ass into the first shower stall I came to. Of course with my luck I chose the bunk shower stall with all the water pressure of a dehydrated pissing gnat. Beautiful. Hearing nobody in the locker room and already having broken the foot-law I decided to grab my shit and walk the 2 1/2 feet bare-foot to the next stall. Ahhhhhhhhhh lovely water pressure and cleansing. . . soap. Where was my soap? Oh. Well silly bitch, I forgot my soap in the gnat-piss-shower! FUCK.

Completely soaked and a tad pissy I once again was ready to take my ass back into the jungle sans footwear- really making a theme for myself. But there were people in there so I had to wait, and wait, and WAAAIIITT in the shower nekkid and wet and soap-free until they got their gabbing asses out of there so I could make a run for it. I was NOT going to walk out there and have people see me breaking a rule - no No NO. Eventually I made the run for my soap, made my trip successfully and got back to wash my stank ass. Ahhhh soap and water - heavenly!! Screw You you bastard frozen pipes! HA!

Of course the story does not end here. No chilluns that would be too easy on my ego and you all know me better by now than to think that I would get away without REALLY making an ass of myself. My neurosis kicked in. Shit. I didn't want to walk back out from the shower to the bathroom with no shoes. I was afraid that in the 6 foot walk I'd be busted. SOO I came up with the great idea of doing a Superman and changing back into my clothes right there in the shower. My bag was outside the door so I just swiped it in and began the tedious process of drying and dressing myself in a SHOWER stall. Hell, I thought I was being pretty smart thank-you-very-much. Until of course some more gabbers came in to the locker room to visit.

I stood in the shower stall fully dressed for quiet a few minutes while they jabbered on. Jesus people how much is there to talk about in the damn locker room!?? FUCK! So, blah blah, I waited till I thought they were gone and made my attempt at freedom. "Attempt" being the right word because I walked right out of the stall and into the Assistant Manager of the gym that is there every night. Who freaking KNOWS what she thought of me emerging from the shower fully dressed, tote bag in tow. Ah well, flip it. She made nervous I-think-you're-a-freak-but-I'm-too-afraid-to-bust-you-out- small talk, I made fuck-me-I'm-a-freak-for-sure small talk and we went on our separate ways.

Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the new Celibate World that I have entered. I don't have sex to keep me occupied and out of trouble any more so you can all look forward to me fucking up and acting an ass on quite a regular basis. Welcome and enjoy and please laugh at me, I need you to laugh at me, because if you pity me I'll have to have my blog kick your blogs ass.

***************By The Way - For anyone coming late to the party, I've taken off my last two posts. They were terribly sad and pitiful and all they did was manage to remind me that C. - my wonderful sweet man - and I will be seperated from one another for oh, about the next year or so. Not by our choice of course, and we're both heartbroken beyond what we thought possible but SHIT happens sometimes in life and we're going to deal with it. I took off the posts because I couldn't stand to see them staring at me everytime I come here. I didn't delete them, I've saved them so I can go back and see all of your wonderful supportive and kind comments if I need to. Thank You all very much. Now, let's get back to it.*******************

Keyboards and Clitorises

Does anybody else get turned on (well sort of) by the sound of certain keyboard typing? I saw "Untraceable" last night (worth renting but don't bother with going to the movies.) It's about an internet killer dude. But whatever the thing is that Diane Lane had a really nice keyboard and there was a lot of very skilled typing going on.

There's just something about those low-rise-keys on lap-tops and the distinctly quieter clicking noise they make when typed upon. And something about a fast and skilled typist. . . something that moves me inside in a strange way. Envy? Lust? Ahhhh fuck if I know what it is but I like listening to the sound of it and even watching a person type on one.

*looooonnnyyyyyyy* Ok I've just spent 20 minutes coloring with permanent sharpie markers so what ever I type in the next 20 minutes cannot be held against me.
Why am I coloring? I'm bored, deal with it.

Moving on. My keyboard at work is one of those $9.99 specials that don't even have the pretend "ERGONOMIC Wrist Placement!!" We're talkin old school big clunky keys and big clunky noise. My boss can hear me typing 3 offices away - I wonder if I'm one of those loud typers?

I have slight mixed feelings about those sweet laptop bitches though. -I've tried to type on one a few times but the sweet sexy keys are too sleek for my fingers that are used to dinosaur keys. They just can't seem to find their way. Every time I type on one it reminds me of a guy that has constant trouble locating my clit during foreplay. You know like he'll be searching around and around and you're like "over" "over" "up" "over" down" "FUCK HERE IT IS!" And you show him and he gets it and then slips off slightly north again and you have to start all over and eventually just give up. That's how I type on those. My fingers just can't seem to keep home base. It's very frustrating and it gives me a slight insight into how one of those fumblng freddies might feel.

But shit.
Home base is very important damn it. FDSA JKL; And keep ONNN the CLIT!

Exercise that TWAT!!

There's a new wave of Kegel exercisers (VAGINA TONERS) out on the market, it seems that now days us gals want machines and devices contraptions to work out our lady flowers and plain ole kegels just won't do. I guess it's the same as everything else, why jog in a park or do push ups and sit-ups when you can run like hell on a treadmill, hop off and choose from ten different sit-up or push-up machines? (I'm not knockin it I go to the gym too)

Or hell, why work out at all when you can just stay home and Sit and Spin?? (omgomgomg I've actually tried one of those at a friends house and it IS as retarded as it looks hahahahahahahaha but hey, to each their own and what not) Or shit why move at ALL when you can get on of those deal-e-o's that electrocutes you - wait, no, I mean STIMULATES your muscles, right, riiiiggghhhhttt. How bought those things come with some stimulation for the peoples BRAIN that thinks to buy them, maybe a couple of volts to get things moving and clear out the cobwebs. LOL, not that I guess that's really necessary since I've seen an idiot buy and try one out before and after the first time that thing Zapped the SHIT out of her she sort of got the idea that it wasn't going to be useful.

Anyways, anyways, geezzzz I digress. ON to the twat-squat. Check these bitches out. The first one I think has been around for a while and what you're supposed to do is insert the big end ball and try to hold the bitch in (while standing duh.) As your lady gets stronger you're supposed to switch to the smaller end and try to hold THAT in place. And THEN when you're vagina is to the point where she can crush a coke can you're supposed to instert the wand further and train to hold it by just the skinny stick part and not use the ball for help. (I wonder if I got this and told C. what it is if he'd believe me and then I could just use it as a dildo? Like maybe it wouldn't freak him out??? *writing note* kay.)

The NEW toys look a lot more fun and these bitches I might consider trying out. Check out this one. You put the big end in the twizzle and squeeze with the point being to bring the two ends together. (it even has adjustable tension!) OH MY GAWD - HOW cool would this be at a dinner party? Talk about entertainment! "Time to serve the salad darling, would you mind getting the "tongs?" "Everyone gather round, let me serve your spring greens with my vagina tongs"

This last one? I honestly don't know what the fuck you're supposed to do with it. It looks to me like a flat iron for hair in the shape of a dildo. Maybe it's a two in one and you can exercise the taco and then heat it up and iron out those curlies. Hell if I know but the bitch looks like it would PINCH somehow and I'm really not feelin that. Plus with all of the misshaps and self mutilation by burning I've had with flat irons over the years it would scare me just to look at it. Although it you DID get the hang of it it might be a cool thing if say you were a hair stylist that got your arms cut off. "Hey, no worries, I'll have that hair flat as a rail in just a second, if you could just jam this dildo iron up my schwagg . . . " Well ya never know.

Anyhoo, I like the tongs, that's my fav. pic. Somebody send me one and I'll get right on a review! But I still think I'd pee with my mom, she really cracks me up.