Another day, another bagel

Don't know how I'm feeling yet. Maybe I stayed out too late to feel any certain way today.

I just want to stare at my screen right now.

Stare.

Stare.

Stare.

I also haven't been able to shake this image out of my head, and I already tortured battlehampster with this, so I'll get the rest of you? Why? Because I guess it's a sign of affection. (Yeah, that'll work as a good excuse.)

I was at my theme camp meeting last night and one of the guys there was cozying up to one of the females with whom he's had an on-again-off-again thing. And they were being all cute et al. Well, I'm sort of in a depressed haze, so I'm staring @ the walls, and the floor and in my line-of-site, I briefly see his crotch. He's wearing these plastic sweat pants that look a little tight on him and he's sporting major wood. Not Tight-jean lump or a kilt-tilt, but a full-on dick print. It was obvious. That was just a disturbing sight; the erect-penis-in--plastic-sweats look. I have no problem with erect penises. I've been around a few exposed erect penises, I've been around ejaculated penises, I've played with a few. It's just that look; he looks lie a rejected porn extra on the set ofBoogie Nights.

With all the dicks I've seen that is what gets imprinted in my head. Ick. Oh well. I am an equal opportunity employer though, I go ick at the sight of a bad case of Camel toe, too.

First sign of aging

I drank a Sobe Adrenalize and a Caffina Mocha Fresco... my body is going into convulsions right now. Can't do the mega-caffene breakfast, anymore. I do't liek the idea of my heart leaping out of my body.

Fingers are a bit shakey and eyes are not able to saty focued. Bleach! This better pass soon.

UN-smothered home

So, my new manager wants to get me involved in some other projects, with some nifty ones he wants me to start scoping, etc.

I have to admit, they'll be a nice change of pace. Dare I say, encouraging?

Maybe it won't be so bad.... Time shall decide that.

In the meantime...

***mmm. fondue, aarrrgghhhhh!***

I'm fucked....

On the off-hand pipe dream of a chance I get a refund from the IRS, Iwas considering paying some debt...

then I saw this

http://utilikilt.com/images/leather/front.jpg

I'm fucked! I'll never win. I have to have it! Yes, HAVE!!! I really don't invest much in clothes, only on exquisite items.

I'm fucked!! Anyone want to trade sex favors for monies towards the kilt? I'm so-so with men, but ladies, I'll make you feel like you're bed is a swimming pool when I through with you...

..Yeah, that'll happen...

I'm fucked, I tell you. FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED! FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED! FUCKED!FUCKED!FUCKED!

Hmm, go fig.

According to Google's pagerank, their meterors & poi section is own3d by Mythic Fire.

Wow.

Go us! We even beat Home of Poi.

Looks like dem up-ranker scripts of yours digitalsidhe have finally done us some good. :)

dum-dum flogging on Gallow\'s Pole

I was listening to the radio during their 'get the Led out' time periods. Between their selection of Zep songs, they played the caller of this recording:
Radio: 107.7 the bone! WHat's going on?

Caller: Yeah, I think I have amnesia, I can't remember the name of that band Robert Plant was in before the Honeydrippers, you know, the one that did 'Stairway to Heaven'...

Radio: Um..... Led Zepplin.

Caller: Oh, god that's right. I'm going to shoot myself in the foot and the brain.


I have to give her points for actually buying a Honeydrippers record, though.