Sunday, January 6, 2008


I'm officially dead to the world post New Years.
2008s gonna be sleepy y'all.
The two high points to my weekend thus far were eating my homemade lentil stew

and watching Enchanted with a nine year old named Emily.
She was an extra in it. i know people for reals.

So yeah, you get fucked up on the final day of the year then you fall off for a few weeks. No big.

I just finished watching some webisodes of this show Quarterlife about a chick that video blogs. Its created by the guy who made My So Called Life so I was expecting it to be So Called Fantastic. it's just kinda predictable.
Speaking of predictions...aherm:

This year I will get just a little fatter. Thats just kinda been my thing since I turned about 20 I guess. Get a little fatter. Shrug it off. Take a walk. Eat some more. Eh. I was on my a-game the other night doing my typical "outside of a bar smoking impromptu stand up routine" to some fairly new acquaintances. It was based on the idea that all 17 year olds will wake up in 3 years with the ill thigh fat like "um, ok whats the joke? How did I get to be my mom since yesterday?" Tough shit. Rub them legs together, start a fire, and do a dance around it. Hopefully that will burn some of the new poundage. My legs at this point look kinda like a fat baby's. All soft and pale and pliable. Tasty. Anyway, me, Katie and Pam were surrounded by teens at this all ages music show last night in which there was Rock. Take note of the capital R. Hilar. Nothing else to say. ALL AGES ROCK SHOW. It's all about the bitter twentysomething mad jealz of the hot teens making out in the corner. Run on home kiddies, its dark outside. I hate you. I hate you and your flaming loins. I hate you and your rosy cheeks and your flat stomachs. I hate your zest for life and your secret energy reserves that kick in at opportune times.
Summary: I'm haggard and pissed about it.

Prediction number two is that I will become more and more skilled at wifely duties and will continue to have no one to bless them with. Not to be a bitch or anything but you dudes have really fallen off. Get a fuckin J-O and step up. I would really like some flowers, or a DATE god forbid. I know its not that attractive for me to be so brazen, but at least you know I'm on the look alive vibe. I am full of zest! You have NO IDEA the shit I will whip up for din din if I know I'm getting a foot rub before bed. I don't even need that much cuddling, I find it suffocating and gross at least half the time. But I'm just getting SO GOOD at cleaning and babying and petting and cooking and nesting. It needs to be put to use. Because my party skills are certainly falling off. I'm basically yawning into shot glasses and shuffling around in flats instead of grinding on the dance flo in stilettos.

Blogging just exhausted me.

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