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the latest
waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
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THIS ENTRY WILL PROBABLY NOT BE VERY ENTERTAINING, BUT IT NEEDS TO BE THIS WAY, BECAUSE THERE IS A WHOLE GARBAGE BARGE OF STUFF IN MY HEAD THAT NEEDS PURGING, SO IF YOU WANT TO BAIL THAT'S COOL, BUT IF YOU WANT TO STAY YOU SHOULD PROBABLY PUT YOUR COVERALLS AND WORK GLOVES ON BECAUSE IT WILL GET MESSY IN HERE. THANKS. SORRY I RAPED YOU. Dear Penthouse Forum: I never thought it would happen to me. I was walking along the street, with the frozen Chicago wind bringing tears to my eyes, and at the corner of Huron and Rush I noticed a burly construction worker who seemed distressed. He was tall and dark, with broad shoulders and muscles that showed even through his winter-weight coveralls. "God damn it," he kept muttering. Of course I was all intrigued! It is not every day you have a totally hott construction worker muttering obscenities under his breath in your presence! So I turned, standing in a three-quarters pose to show off my luscious round breasts, and said, "What's the matter, baby?" "My bulldozer driver guy didn't show up today! And I have this huge pile of smashed-up concrete and nobody to drive the bulldozer!" He gazed into my big brown eyes. By now he was standing so close I could feel the heat coming off of his manly bestubbled jaw. My heart was pounding and was starting to feel a tingly dampness in my lace panties. "Maybe you could...help me out?" I swallowed hard. This guy moved fast! "Well, I have to be honest, I have never driven a bulldozer...this would be my first time." "That's okay," he said, his voice a husky whisper. "I'll show you how." And then I drove the bulldozer! Boy did I ever! I have even joined the bulldozer drivers' union. I never thought it would happen to me! The end. Well, that is what I wish would happen, because it is a fantasy of mine to drive a bulldozer. Instead, at Huron and Wabash, another stupid fucking high-rise condominium is going up, so that dumb Trixies who move here from Michigan and don't know any better can move in and pay a thousand dollars a month to be close to their River North law firm and to live in a glorified studio apartment. All recent Trixie graduates should have to live in Pilsen or Uptown or some other real neighborhood when they move here, that would be my decree were I in charge. (Soon, Mimi. Soon.) The worst part is that this particular stupid fucking high-rise, when it is completed, is going to block my office window view of the Hancock Building, and I would much rather look at the elegant Hancock Building while I work than some boring tan high-rise. Blah. I just got e-mail spam from PUMP_CUNT. What does that even mean? Pump cunt pump cunt goooooo team! And it doesn't anagram to anything, which upsets me. Getting all Tourettic and spastic and twitchy, which may have something to do with last night's binge drinking. Last night's binge drinking has not left me in a slimy snakepit of depression, as binge drinking sometimes does (then why do you do it, Mimi Smartypants? oh my child, some mysteries are too deep to be fathomed) but rather has left me with a weird and cheerful outlook on life, it is a paradoxical reaction but I am not complaining. Some beer-soaked fun plus five hours of blah blah talkity talk with that guy was the perfect ending to my weird day, and, after my taxi ride home and some drunken sleep, waking up to LT warm and snuggly on one side of me and The Cat warm and snuggly on the other was also fabulous. However, the new rule is that if I am going to go out and consume heroic amounts of beer I need to eat something other than oatmeal for breakfast and oatmeal + candy for lunch. The other new rule is that even though I am relatively cheerful and optimistic and feeling hale and hearty today, you still should refrain from asking me to do anything complicated at work, because the rational thought centers in my brain are right now kind of mushy, yellow, and flavorless, like scrambled eggs. All I am really good for is staring out the window and watching the crazy-ass pigeons float around. Although I suspect they are not floating but "flying." Hmmm. Must look into this. TEXTUAL REPRESENTATION OF A THOUGHTFUL NOISE: WEB STATISTICS hmmm: 1.6 million hits on Google HEADLINES THAT I READ OVER PEOPLE'S SHOULDERS AND MY RESPONSE TO THEM Feral Dogs Still Lurk In Woods, Cops Warn Rand McNally To Convert Debt Into Equity Man Held After Altercation Worm Study Sheds New Light On Obesity Mayor Sets Plan For Tight Control Over City Schools (See what I mean about my Tourettic freakouts today? Maybe it is a blood sugar thing.) ADJECTIVES AND PHRASES THAT HAVE NOT, TO MY KNOWLEDGE, BEEN USED TO DESCRIBE ME Sturdy AN IMAGINARY CONVERSATION BETWEEN SOME OF THE SONG LYRICS CURRENTLY IN MY HEAD A: Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long. LINK TIME The dim mak points. Refrain from attacking them (unless you want to kill someone or make them sick). More on dim mak. Oh my god this is such a cool story. The feral dog story. Chicago gets more like Yemen every day. Detroit has problems too. And let's not forget feral children! Here is a handy chart! If I were trying not to eat, for some messed-up eating-disorder reason, which I am not (that is, I am not trying not to eat), I would read about digestion as often as possible. Reading about digestion makes me feel kind of sick. The other thing that makes me feel kind of sick is touching, or even looking at, a bare mattress. LT and I were watching one of those Discovery Channel forensic science shows, and this one was about a serial killer who raped and strangled all these women in their homes, and during one of the reenactment scenes they were showing the body of this raped and strangled woman on her bed, and the sheets had come off, and I was all like "Eeeew how horrible for that actress who had to lie there on that bare mattress for the shoot." LT found it amusing that I would have no problem with portraying a raped and murdered dead body but there is no way that I could bring myself to let any portion of a sheet-free mattress touch my skin. (I even bought one of those anti-allergenic mattress-encasing mattress pad things that zips around your entire mattress, just so I would be able to change my sheets without the risk of touching the thing.) (Doesn't the word "mattress" look like it's spelled wrong? Or maybe it looks like it is a female mattress [with that -ess ending]. The male mattress is called a mattreur.) Jerry Springer philosophy. List of logic books, in case you want to make like Spock. ---mimi smartypants would like to know why women giving blowjobs in porn keep looking at the camera, really, what is up with that. back/forward |
