The Delta - July 17

July 17, 2000
Less than FDS.

- still waiting on the new camera -
- visually, little has changed -

So things are finalized. I know where things are going at the new company, which needs to be named 9/6… easy to remember, vague as it can be. There is a finally a plan. I can hear the collective sigh of relief ringing through my modem. I know you were worried about me, biting your nails while you fretted along with me over deciding to buy cigarettes or toilet paper at the store last week, counting change for one or the other. At least I didn't argue with the cashier.

While discussing the site with someone today, who had yet to hear of this type of publication, he asked a very pertinent question that hadn't occurred to me.

What is wrong with people? Really though. What's wrong with you, folks? You're just constantly reading to finally be here the day I start posting the artsy nudes, right? Nothing wrong with that.

A few things that I need to eliminate from my vocabulary; "Scared of that. Watch out now! That's all you. Sure thing. Gotcha." I cringe when they come out of my mouth. For someone reason unknown to me they continue to slip past my lips no less than thirty times a day. Adam makes fun of me to no end when I say that's all you. I'm such a country ass. Speaking of, I broke down and bought thongs this weekend. Oddly comfortable, funny I used to be the staunch anti-thong. I'll get used to them sooner or later. Intriguing friction.

Fox 97, Atlanta's oldies station completely took me back to 9th grade at Grady High School this morning. Now, the fact that I used to date a five foot Japanese wrestler is humorous enough, but he was obsessed with campy oldies songs. While this pissed me off at the time I think it's funny as shit now (you must be familiar with "Chantilly Lace", if not skip the whole thing.) We were sitting in Piedmont Park skipping sixth period and with me barely within earshot, a jackass named Emerson asked this wrestler if he was dating me, making some rather derogatory statements concerning my appearance. " My little wrestler laughed and sang "Yeah she's ugly, but she sure can cook, baby!"

We didn't last long. And here I run into a bit of a dilemma, do I leave it at that or tell the rest of the mortifying story? Damn it, twist my arm.

The first time I ever slept with him I happened to have used spermicidal jelly. The moron then decided he wanted to lick me. The next day I walked back into school with everyone thinking I tasted that way naturally. You have to understand the stigma attached to having less than FDS. I deserved it though. I broke up with his best friend to go out with him. Only time I've stooped that low, deserved every ounce of that. To my credit, although he was four inches shorter than me and spoke only passable English, he was fine. Fine, fine, fine.

This entry has been another exercise in not censoring myself because of specific readers, which is tiring. Today was hectic. I wore evil shoes. The remote and a Chico and Chang super veggie burrito with shrimp is calling to me. One last orgasm and I'm gone.

31 Orgasms
No. 5

We frantically drove to get there first, to have ten minutes in the van alone before the other carloads of drunken idiots pulled up behind us. If you can say nothing else about this man, you must say that he is a giver. Flailing limbs and breathy squeals were drenched in the light of headlights and the sound of horns and voices. He looked up at me from the floorboard and asked me with perfect seriousness…
"These windows are tinted, right?"
That boy, always a member of the Clean Plate Club.

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