Items of Note

"Sure Jesus could restore my physical and spiritual virginity, especially if I lost it to some rapist, but who wants that? I'm saving myself for marriage, and I'll use force if necessary." -Hilary Faye

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Well there goes my appetite and their self respect

I am appalled by the show "The Girls Next Door." Appalled I tell you.

You all know that I do not have cable, or even get the local channels for that matter, so today was the first time I encountered this little nugget of nastiness.

The girls that participate in the nonsense that is the Playboy mansion need to be shot.

Watching those plastic pieces of patheticness (yes I made up a word dammit) made me sick to my stomach (no chance in hell that was the Golden Corral (gross) from this afternoon, surely you jest.)

They each need to be shot in their empty little heads. No really, they do.

The thought of one of these idiots sucking his withered, diseased penis is enough to make me give up sex for good (well almost enough.)

I can imagine that reverse cowgirl is a very highly sought after position with this crowd - "If I can't see his face maybe I can pretend I climbed aboard David Hasselhoff (yes, even HE is a better sexual partner choice.)"

The worst part is they have to pretend to be HAPPY about doing it. There are not enough drugs in the world that would make me receptive to his old man stank.

I can see it now: "Really? OMG, he wants ME TONIGHT? I just can't wait to see all of that wrinkled old man flesh up close and personal, so very sexy. It makes me feel so special, being picked out like a lobster in a tank. I hope the herpes sores are gaping and oozing tonight, that just adds to his natural manly taste!!!" (bounce bounce.)

The best I can hope for is that one day while he (the Devil that is Hugh) will be fucking one of these brainless wastes of human flesh and her implant will explode and they will both drown in a pool of silicone.

This is in no way to be taken as an anti porn/dirty magazine rant, you all know I likes me some porn. Bring on the boobs (even the fake ones) and debauchery, just don't insult my intelligence by telling me that even one of those girls 'loves' (oh yes sir they used that word) him and looks forward to grinding her pelvis in to his.

Its all so sick.

Somebody needs to put these bunnies in a pot and boil them on the stove*, it makes just about as much sense as this show does.

Well there goes my appetite and their self respect.

*No this is not an actual instruction to go out and kill bunnies of any sort you sick sick person.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

The Promotion

A certain somebody has gotten a promotion that is making it impossible for her to blog anymore.

I am very sorry, maybe I can update on the weekends if my life ever becomes interesting again.

Chances are I will be working non stop now, so there will be no more sexcapades and boozing, they look down on those things in the world of corporate finance. I will try to find time to still comment on your blogs however.

Thanks for all of the fun!

Monday, March 20, 2006

What the hell is going on with blogger?

I've got nothing to report- it rained all weekend so I stayed in. Now I'm back at work and it sucks.

Isn't that all very exciting?

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I'm sorry, I haven't been feeling well so there is nothing to report. Life is boring when you spend all of your time sitting on the couch with a stinky little Cocker Spaniel watching British gangster movies. I'm seriously beginning to think I could make my living trafficking drugs...... they make it look so easy.

As soon as I am back to normal I am sure there will be stories that involve booze, hookers and that one armed man (couldn't resist E.)

I am still thinking about going and seeing my boy in Austin this weekend. Yes, I said my boy... shut your pie hole.

One of my stupid coworkers scheduled her wedding on Friday - St Patrick’s Day- she damn well better have green beer or there will be hell to pay. I hope to God they have those disposable cameras on every table..... I have so much fun with those. Muhahahaha.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

You know you missed me

Have you all missed me? Have you? I thought not.

Things have been crazy- work is kicking my ass, life is kicking it again for good measure.

There is a new boy, a boy that my girlfriends are mocking me about, telling me that I am smitten. Screw them, I don't do smitten.

Ok, maybe they are a tiny bit right (do you have any idea how hard that is for me to admit?) Damn you girls. Damn you both.

Tomorrow night we are going back to the male strip club, should be fun. Dry humping will abound.

Saturday during the day we will be hanging out on Greenville for the St Patty's Day festivities- those of you here in Dallas had better take cover. There will be green beer, there will be apple martinis, and there will be nudity galore (although I'm sure we won't be participating in any of that seeing as how we are good girls and all.)

No time to chat, just checking in.

Try to be good.

Monday, March 06, 2006

The weekend

The weekend was fairly low key (I know, oh so disappointing.) Friday night I was the biggest dork EVER and went with a coworker to make cards (my new obsession.) We stayed at the scrap booking place until midnight – midnight I tell you.

One of my male coworkers drunk texted me, that was pretty sweet. I have been giving him a hard time about it all day.

Saturday E and I went out and hit a couple of bars. I met a new dating prospect- Jeff. He’s totally different from all of the other men I have been with lately, its rather refreshing. He is tall (6’4) blonde, blue eyes- and just as sweet as he can be. We went out to dinner last night and then back to the bar where we met. He introduced me to all of his friends there (other regulars)- lots of fun. It looks like he might drink a little more than I do which is a bad thing. We will see. We are going out again tonight. Yummy.

Now comes the good part – imagine the most inappropriate conversation you have ever had with a stranger and multiply that by 10 and that would be my little talk with my upstairs neighbor and his friend that was visiting Saturday night/Sunday morning.

I had some male company Saturday night after the bars- actually it was Sunday morning since E and I closed down the bar at 2 am. Anyway, apparently I was really, really loud between the hours of 3:30 and 6:30. And then again at 10. The visitor from upstairs stopped me as I was coming in from walking the dog last night and asked if he could talk to me. I knew where it was headed – he asked me if I had a good time that morning and if I was ok. I was so fucking embarrassed.

As it turns out he wasn’t lecturing me as much as trying to get me to let him give it a go- apparently I sounded like I knew what I was doing. Then he offered me cocaine. That is so typical of the apartments I live in. I gently declined his offer and told him I would try to keep it down in the future. What a freak!!!!!

I watched 40 Year Old Virgin this weekend – I got to say I don’t understand what all of the hype was about, not so funny.

That is all – could I be any more random?

Friday, March 03, 2006

So not pleasant

I had a dream last night that I was drowning and was startled out of sleep by a noise that seemed so much like the death rattle that jolted me up in my father’s hospital room the night he died that for a second I was confused and convinced that I was experiencing his death watch all over again. I was terrified and sleepless for the rest of the night.

The whole experience of his death came washing back over me like a wave and I found myself laying on my couch breathing like I did while lying in that cot next to his bed those last few hours– his breaths were so shallow and far between that I my lungs couldn’t keep up, I got dizzy with the effort.

Last night I walked through every moment of the night he died in my mind. I remember walking over to his bed and leaning close to his sunken face to confirm he was no longer breathing. I remember walking back over to the cot and carefully folding each blanket and sheet like it was of up most importance, as if I didn’t know that they would bundle them up along with the linens from his bed and toss them in the industrial washer along with the harsh chemicals that would wash away the very last bit of sweat that his body ever produced. There was the walk down that long hall to get the nurse who followed me back, nodding her agreement that he was gone, she called the time of death as 2:36 I believe. The call to my sister and mom to tell the to come back up to the hospital…... I was so exhausted and drained, part of me wonders how I could even dial the phone.

Last night as I curled up deeper in to the cushions of the couch and covered my head with the fluffy down comforter, I couldn’t drown out the sound of the ticking of a clock- a ticking that pounded away the seconds like the one that was in his room. I don’t have a clock with a second hand in my house because they remind me of how I would watch that one and count the seconds between his breaths there at the end, but last night I heard it so clearly.

When I think about that time in my life- that week I spent in the hospice specifically– I feel wretchedly hollow, there is a hole inside of me that will never be filled.

I spoke with my sister this morning and the odd thing was just yesterday afternoon she cleaned out his car because she sold it – she said it was hard to do and seemed surreal. We are so mentally linked that I am sure that is the reason I was thinking about him so much last night. CLASS=ivanL_SI TARGET=_blank>FREE counter and Web statistics from