talk to me like lovers do (look, i changed the station!!!)
November 22, 2002 / 8:48 pm
I don't want to make you guys too jealous but I do feel the need to rub something in your face just a tad. I got one of these today:
Bam! I bet you're crying with envy. (Okay, you're not. It only cost me six bucks.)
One day I'll be so fucking good that I'll be famous and you'll talk all kinds of mad shit about me in your diaries and then I'll read it. You won't know that the rad-ass harmonica player that everyone is raving about is really sweet and innocent ihatepizza. You just fucking wait.
Oh man. I forgot to mention the Anna Nicole Smith kick I have been on as of late. Y'see, I've downloaded a bunch of her shows off Kazaa and, oh my god, I'm in love. I just love her to death! People need to shut the fuck up with the Anna Nicole jokes too because they are sooooo fucking lame. So what if she's big and a tad drugged. I really don't understand why it is okay to make fun of people because of their size. It baffles me and reminds me of living in my smallass town and hearing all the icky redneck boys making "nigger" and "fag" jokes. It makes me sick.
Speaking of icky redneck boys... I was on the bus with a bigtruckfull of em today and I didn't have my headphones so I was forced into hearing what the little bastards were saying. They were talking about going to Hooters and then this loud dude went off about how lame Hooters was and that they need to hit up Sexworld (he's right, it's rad.) after one because that's when all the freaky horny girls hang out there. He kept warning them not to go into the booths because they are full of semen. I just found the conversation incredibly offensive but maybe I'm turning into an old bitty? (Is it bitty or biddy?)
My husband is at work and it's really wierding me out. I'm not used to being in the house by myself this late at night. He left the radio on for the cat and I'm listening to that "I won't tell em you're name" song by Collective Soul or something. If I was smart I'd go turn it to the 80's station. (I won't.)
So at about 11, while we were still sleeping, my landlord started pounding on my door, right? We didn't hear him until he opened our door. Mike flew out of the bed so fucking quick and ran into the living room bellowing "Who the fuck is it?!?!" buck ass fucking naked. My landlord quick slammed the door and they communicated through the door. I guess my landlord wanted to check the faucets and toilets. The thing is, we have a darling cat that we are not supposed to. I think it is so fucking cool that Mike was quick thinking enough to make the landlord see him naked so he'd be embarrassed enough to shut the door really quick before Lisa was discovered. (He even locked the door for us too!) So we were saved by my husbands cock. Hee hee!
Oh before I leave, I just want to tell you the Number one reason I'm madly in love with my husband. *drum roll please*
He reads Laura Ingalls Wilder books. No fucking lie. Mmmmmm... that's a real man and don't let anyone tell you anything differently.