Piehole
July 22, 2000
Insert something sassy here. I'm exhausted.
Still in my work clothes at one in the morning. We're doing laundry at my father-in-law's home, so no picture and not much to say, they have a natural touch key board and it makes me crosseyed. Heaven knows I should be more relaxed than I am, Friday night, sleep till noon tomorrow and for once the muscles in my neck aren't shrieking at me from a long day of monitor staring.
When I left my father's home eariler this evening Connor and Dinah were both asleep on a floor palette in front of the television in the living room. I lived most of my younger life on floor palettes so when I get home I think that's what I'm gonna do. Then I'll take the cushions off the couch and make a fort. Once I did that with sheets but we couldn't get the sheet to stay put, so we propped it up on the edge of a table with a small bust of Beethoven that I got for a quarter at a yard sale. The damn thing flew off the table once my friend and I got into a little girl hair pulling cat fight. I'm not sure why I always used to fight with my friends, but I was a mean little mofo. It knocked that little bitch right in the head too. See what happens when you fuck with me?!? Heh. She would've kicked my ass if she hadn't been plaster smacked though.
It's late and I'm tired, mentally. My body actually feels wide awake. I'm watching The Wall on the dish while quickly sobering, reheating my thai for a snack. You want to know just how trailer trash I really am? Not too long ago I voluntarily, yet inebriatedly (is that a word?) went to the Pink Floyd laser show at the Fox Theatre. They cut out all the sex for the laser show, but if you ask me, everything goes better with breasts. Send all taunts and jeers to my customer service department. Tired, sleep now.
31 Orgasms
No. 7
He was more handsome than I had seen him look in years, all golden and grin. I followed him out of the office and right there on the concrete I kissed him, he was more stunned than anything I suppose. Somehow he talked me into visiting the metaphysical bookstore within walking distance, as they so generously provide cushions for meditating in a dimly lit room with photographs of aged Asian men and statues of names I couldn't remember if I tried. I left a sweet in one of the statues dishes that I had in my purse as an offering as we were leaving. I had made sure we didn't leave anything else. I may be disrespectful, but I'm not flat out rude.
While driving home tonight I actually whooped with laughter when Under My Thumb came on the radio. Favorite, or top five all time best songs ever. It's that whole bad boy thing.
The Wall never ceases to show me something I missed last time. Listen to me, all the sudden I'm Little Miss Classic Rock.
Taste;
Deep fried spring rolls and peanut sauce. Certs.
None of your damned business.
Smell;
How the fuck do you spell pheromones? Why doesn't notepd have a spell check?.