so today, i discovered that when i leave men, they get jobs.

fool #2 (aka me): what? charades?

fool #1: no. lap dancing.

fool #2: ......

fool #1: what?

(much slapping of arms ensues)

fool #2: asshole.

you people suck!

---

but in other news! i got email! addressed to "whipped guys"! yes. that is me. i am a whipped guy.

and here is what it said:
Guys! Did you know you can learn to seduce women into bed?

Come on, dude - you can't tell me you don't need a little extra edge when it comes to scoring. It's FUN, and it will CHANGE YOUR LIFE!

oh yay! dude!

there is a debate going on at work. about why it is that i am a freak magnet.

according to one source, it is because i (supposedly) walk around like "i'm so sex-ay. i'm so sex-ay. i'm so sex-ay."

another source says it's because i have big hooters.

and yet another source says it's because freaks can smell loose morals from a mile away.

"buy me shoes!"

"i like black!"

"flats would be nice!"

"size 9-1/2!"
shut up about my big feet, by the way. or i will knock you OUT!

and i'm really very good at telepathy, you know... also i am home from work. so, i can better concentrate on sending him these very important messages... so guess what i'm gettin'?

apparently, he took my enjoyment of fellatio to mean that he didn't need to do anything. the bastard! ... and his idea of foreplay? flash me his hoo hoo.

oh look... a penis i've seen 34029748281763665 times before... woohoo... i am so excited.

background information:
last year, whilst on vacation in new zealand, i went on a drunken boys weekend of "fishing" with a bunch of bastards i will call jackass, bic and woody. for some reason, they insisted on calling me "bob". hey, don't ask me. they're stupid.

so... today i spoke with the jackass. who notified me that, on a recent "fishing" trip, bic and wood commented that "bob" should be there.

awww! they miss me!

or at least they miss my scantily clad boobs. or my falling off the boat for their amusement. or all the hoochie dancing. or carrying me back to camp with a twisted ankle. or wringing out my pants.

i mean, who wouldn't miss wringing out my pants?

she was on a beach, wet, on all fours, dressed in a bikini and a paddling shirt, had sand and her ass-length hair all stuck to her... and then i went to school and told all my friends about my famous mommy.

now... does this sound at all odd to anyone else?

... but this is explaining alot of my adult behavior.

hahaha! he's a pimp!

and now he's a girl! hah!!

ha ha ha! i am so funny!! i just kill me! how is it that i'm not getting paid for this? and yes, this is how i spend my free time.

bite me.

"you know, GERIATRIC MARK," i said.

and she says "oh, you mean he's real?"

note to self: please analyze friendships.

---

now excuse me while i go do my laundry. be sure to bring your cover charge.

that is all.

first of all, she needs a dye job desperately... this eau naturale thing is just not workin'. and secondly, someone should tell her it's not 1985. she needs to stop feathering the front!

because damnit! i'm looking more and more like her everyday... and my future is not looking so good! besides for the hair, she's beginning to get the dreaded filipino jowls.

OH NO!!!! NOT THE JOWLS! aaaaaaaarrrrrggggg!

i wonder where he gets it.

----

wuh-hell, now! there are currently 31 people who love me enough to put me here. and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. awww.

and why does it make me feel warm and fuzzy? well... because the attention of others helps to maintain my overinflated ego. and my ego is warm and fuzzy! like fleece!

i made it without killing him! although i did not make it without rolling my eyes or being mean or obnoxious or saying "you're not gonna fucking guilt me into taking a cab!" or saying things like "fucking asshole" under my breath.

and right now you're thinking "damn! she's mean!", aren't you?

yeah. and?

so, anyway. i was chillin' at porny and horny's tonight... where i ate guacamole, sat around drinking beer, gawked at the handsome boy they had hanging around.

also, i made him laugh and stuff. because i'm real funny... and because i'm cute, so they EXAGGERATE the laugh to impress me.

and we debated on the following important issue:

otter pops: best frozen? or melted? or the frozen/melted combo?

*************************

bumblebeesh: hey captain underpants

bumblebeesh: fine ignore me. i dont care. i have other fish to fry

bumblebeesh: *thhhhhbbbbtttttttt*

bumblebeesh: i wonder what would happen if i just typed and typed and typed.

bumblebeesh: would it annoy you when you got back on and saw 2 THOUSAND messages there waiting for you?

bumblebeesh: lets

bumblebeesh: find

bumblebeesh: out

bumblebeesh: MR MAN!

bumblebeesh: HEY! i got a DATE on friday

bumblebeesh: yes ME

bumblebeesh: because im CUTE

bumblebeesh: and FUNNY

bumblebeesh: and REAL

bumblebeesh: he told me so, you know

bumblebeesh: this is not just coming from my mouth

bumblebeesh: other people compliment me as well.... its not just me

bumblebeesh: if i were to compliment me, i would use better adjectives than "cute" "funny" and "real"

bumblebeesh: real what? i say

bumblebeesh: real bootylicious?

bumblebeesh: yes..... i will go with that

bumblebeesh: i am REAL BOOTYLICIOUS

bumblebeesh: hey.... that was a stupid song, no?

bumblebeesh: ha ha!!!! bootylicious

bumblebeesh: what the hell kinda word is that?

bumblebeesh: ooo.... look at how long i can have a conversation with myself

bumblebeesh: this is quite amusing

bumblebeesh: im amusing

bumblebeesh: me

bumblebeesh: im thinking this isnt going to last much longer

bumblebeesh: so you had better stop ignoring me

bumblebeesh: or.... like..... get back to your computer

bumblebeesh: what? do you not hear all the beeps?

bumblebeesh: ARENT I BEEPING?

bumblebeesh: do you have music playing or something?

bumblebeesh: just who do you think you are?

bumblebeesh: IGNORING MY BEEPS!

bumblebeesh: i typed "ignorning" first, by the way

bumblebeesh: HMPF! AWAY?!?! so you're AWAY now?

bumblebeesh: did you just away me?

bumblebeesh: OH! MY! GOD!

bumblebeesh: heehee..... ok..... im done annoying you

bumblebeesh: FOR NOW!

*************************

i didn't really stop annoying him though. when he got back from taking a crap (i do believe his actual words were "geez, can't a guy take a shit in peace?") i annoyed him somemore.

ps. am i boring you with these IM things? well too bad! suck it up, asshat!

yes, he is a squid. in fact, he's been so squid-y i haven't seen him for THREE years. yes, THREE! but today he is in seattle for the seafair and he's gonna take me and the child to see big boats! can you feel my excitement?

ooh. ahh. big boat.

he is not nearly as pretty as me... but is much taller by comparison. and yet... i'm gonna see if i can still make him call me "boss".

sure, if he got me in a headlock (again) i'd probably cry instead of take him down, but what's that got to do with anything?

i AM the boss.

and now i will tell you about my day! aren't you excited?

• got lost at pike's place market.
• talked to some australian people on the bus. and called them plonkers... they thought it was funny and laughed. but, i meant it. they WERE plonkers.
• watched boys yell and throw fish.
• saw a big boat. ooh. ahh.
• got winked at by a very, very friendly navy boy named garrett.
• discovered that they don't let small children in the beergarden... what? it's not like he can pass for 21 or something! what's the problem?
• threaten my child with death.
• ate a really mediocre corndog.
• ate some highly fattening donuts.
• thought i saw bette midler. but it wasn't bette midler, it was just some lady with big red hair.

oh, also... i learned that my sister-in-law is now selling adult novelties for a living.

ohh kay. this is not something i want to know about my brother's wife! Eww! Yuck! Bleh!... Get that thing away from my brother's anus, you hussy!

especially my recently neutered friends. like the recently-neutered grant. who was recently neutered.

i hope he sits down real hard.

muwahahahahahaaa!

oh, you're a clever one missy. but are you clever ENOUGH? my sources say "no". and my sources are me and as i have stated previously, i am never wrong.

and if i am ever in canada... no, strike that, WHEN i am in canada, i am way going to take her down. waaaay!

either that or i'm going to take her loopy ass out. get us hammered. and then we'll play "pin the tail on the guy with the hottest ass"... or better yet, a rousing game of "charades".

and i will win. because i am the queen of all things... especially charades.

for all those interested girls out there, putz is a 32 year old asswipe with a low-paying job and no car. he lives with 4 other asswipes in an asswipe duplex on capitol hill in seattle.

he has grimy brownish/blondish hair and big fat grubby brown eyes. putz stands a mighty 5'-11" tall and weighs whatever a boy weighs when he eats hamburgers and/or pizza for every meal.

he enjoys short walks to the smoke shop, watching naked girls on tv, and driving fast while screaming "woooooo!" out the window.

what a catch! get him quick, girls!

send all your inquiries here.

i have the deep seated feeling i will be paying for all the things i have divulged tonight.

arg.

for the record, though... i was not lying. the new guy could suck the chrome off a bumper... damn. he is a suction machine.

ahem.

dickhead: "are you seeing somebody?"

me: "what?"

dickhead: "ARE. YOU. SEEING. SOMEBODY."

me: "who, me?"

dickhead: "no. my other wife."

me: "ha ha!"

dickhead: "so?"

me: "so, what?"

dickhead: "ARE! YOU! SEEING! SOMEBODY?"

me: "why would i be seeing somebody?"

for the record, this conversation happened after i was separated. i won't be telling you how long i had been separated, because... hey! look! a bird!

40% has a gap in his front teeth (which gives him points on the jennifermeter), and a long island accent (more points), and is not boring (even more points), and is a nice guy (not too many points).

however, jennifer's boss, lunatic, thinks 40% is sexy. and this is clouding jennifer's judgement. jennifer is now getting images of lunatic and 40% doing... augh!

bleh! puke! retch! ralph! spew!

this little discovery is going to come in handy for the REST OF MY LIFE!

ok, now i have a little announcement.

recently, i have been out too often and too long. and without much sleep in between. and if i don't knock it off, i'm going to start looking all tore up.

SO! i am taking a boy break. not a complete boy break, mind you. i mean, i'm not dead. but there will be no new boys.

unless they're really hot.

"boddington's? i never heard of it"

"it's from england... and it has a head! and balls! like penises!"

"uhh. jennifer?"

"yes, mother?"

but why do lesbians have to study? is there a test? do you need a degree?

and while i'm speaking of girl-on-girl action, i would just like to say... "i love tones"... *sigh*... she's my dreamboat.

she gave me porny things. and that's almost reason enough for me to send her that picture.

"fax, fax, fax... fax, fax, fax... oh, how i love to fax, fax, fax..."

yeah, i actually sang that. is that not horrifying?

ha ha!

and my grandmother was a sharpshooter in the guerilla movement in the spanish-filipino war... yeah, my grandma coulda shot yo' grandma in the back and then hidden in caves, and eventually get away with it.

ha ha!

my grandma was a revolutionary. my mother was a pioneer. and me? i sit on my ass all day drawing lines and coloring... ooh! impressive!

but, i could still kill you and get away with it... so don't get cocky.

ha ha!

this is the sweater she sent me:

notice the greeeeat girth. why, i think three sheep went into this thing... and you might be amused to know that those big ass arm holes? large enough for my head!

yes! my head really fits in there! i tried! it fit! and my heads not abnormally small or nuffin. it's a normal head!

and this is the size of an actual jennifer shirt:

hello, mother? anybody home?

Awwwwwwwwwwwww yeaaaahhhhhhh...
(insert random "crowd riling" cat calls and antics here - for a reference, start listening to more rap.)

well she's definitely cute
and spunky too, to boot
if you love her then just scoot
on up to jennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn...
(JEN!)

well, she's asian
but she's not
she's hawaiian, she's a scot!
that's right, she's jennnnnnnnnnnnn....
(JEN! JEN!)

well, she may be kinda short
and she may like to cavort
she thinks swearing is a sport
but damn! she's jennnnnnnnn...
(DAMN THAT JEN!)

[Here comes the tempo change]

Jennnnn........ whooooaaaa-oooooh-oh-ooooooh
Jennnnnnnnnn....
(Don't call her cheap, just call her Jen)

Goddamn, I'm talkin' bout Jennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.....
(She won't hula, even if she can)

I just don't understand Jennnnnnnnn.....
(Neither can we, and we're her fans!)

[brief moog synthesizer solo, then back to the opening tune]

well, she's got lots of things to say
and she's definitely not gay
she's a sexy divorcee
annnnnnnnnnnd..... sheeeee's......... Jennnnnnnnnnnnn!
(perplexing JEN! for sexing JEN! stop vexing JENNNNNN!)

(Jen! Jen!)

---

and now, a little about bren:

bren is a 20-something tortured artist with a crippling addiction to benadryl, sudafed, and visine. she has a freakishly tall man-guy who's genitals hit her in the shoulder when he stands next to her. and she cannot remember the lyrics to will smith songs.

uh, hello? how hard is it to remember "na na na na na na na na"?

---

ps. i'm not friggin' short!

"north caroliner"

tee hee!

also, my knees are crackin'! what am i? a 40 year old man? SHEESH!

oh... and i forgot all about the birthday o' jackass. you do realize i am going to have to pay dearly for this mistake, don't you? ... i mean, he has really long legs that are good for kicking, and i can't run too fast (see previous paragraph re: crackin' knees).

me: "do you like ARGYLE SOCKS?"

lumpy: "would you like a PADDLE?"

me: "would you like a PAPER CLIP?"

lumpy: "do you like green eggs and ham?"

me: "and HOW!"

lumpy: "can we talk like normal people now?"

me: "no."

and it's only a matter of time before he pays me back for that time i stabbed him with a fork. or when i made him eat dog bisuits. or when i made him play barbies with me. or that halloween i dressed him up like a roll of toilet paper.

oh, and that dog biscuit thing? he liked them, ok? ... so, technically not really all that mean.

--

also! tonight is the greatest night in television history!! GO JOE!

they MAKE. FUN. of my music. yes! i can't believe it either!

i mean, come on! everybody loves barry white. and the commodores. and rufus. and kool & the gang... and... and... shaggy.

yes, shaggy! i said it! SHAGGY! i love shaggy! shut up!

Not that that stands in the way of me screeching "RESPECT MY AUTHORIT-AH!" at every opportunity.

And now for your bulleted pleasure, here are 5 things about my favorite homosexual.

1. My favorite homosexual claims to have been abducted by aliens as a child.
2. My favorite homosexual is one of the funniest people I致e ever known in my whole wide life... If you call being really mean, funny.
3. My favorite homosexual likes to sit on saddles naked. (Do not ask me how I know this)
4. My favorite homosexual is strangely attracted to both Justin Timberlake and Howdy Doody. Ponder that mothahfuckah!
5. My favorite homosexual is fluent in ZERO languages... Give him a break! He's from Texas! English is his second language (right behind "gibberish").

yo. 'sup dawg!

dudes. he said that. he said "sup daaaaawg". he also says "whack". and "filth-aaaay!"... hello?! he is SEVEN! and lives in a gay neighborhood!

but enough ruminating on the child's grasp of ebonics. it's time for listy action! here are 5 things about the child:

1. the child is in the 2nd grade, but reads at the 4th grade level. he's a smartypants.
2. according to my sources, the child talks alot. and my sources are EVERYBODY WHO HAS EVER MET THE CHILD.
3. the child will eat anything. really! i mean, i got him to eat parsley. next i'm trying rocks.
4. the child enjoys cartoons, vanilla ice cream, and basketball. in his spare time, he enjoys pretending to choke me with his tiny baby hands.
5. the child looks like me... and the milkman. hah! oh i kid! he doesn't look like the milkman! he looks like ME... and the UPS man.

back to piehole™ people

here is an example of one of our conversations:

full time booty wanting guy: yo! twinkie!

me: sup, ding-dong?

full time booty wanting guy: nothin' much, ho ho.

me: did you just call me a ho, motherfucker?

anyway. the full time booty wanting guy apparently wants my booty full time. despite telling me he wasn't into full time booty. because he is a liar. however, he is much fun to hang around with, therefore i am stringing him along.

and now, here are 5 things about the full time booty wanting guy.

1. the full time booty wanting guy really likes to play with my straightlicious hair.
2. the full time booty wanting guy told me that he didn't watch nor did he care to watch joe millionaire.
3. in a recent phone conversation, the full time booty wanting guy fessed up that he watched every single show.
4. the full time booty wanting guy's name is also the name of a potty. ha ha!
5. the full time booty wanting guy says that i talk too much.
   pft! ME? talk too much? ...NEVAH!

1. My mommy is a retired cop turned tax-appraiser. Don't mess with the mama.
2. My mommy has no eyebrows. She has to draw them on.
3. My mommy is AmerAsian, but looks strangely honky.
4. When I was little, my mother used to tell me really gross stories about brain matter and blood spatter... Hey! I'm 8! I do not want to know! LA LA LA LA! Stop talking to me!
5. My mommy accuses me of being a princess. But HELLO! I am a princess!

me: maybe i'll telepathize you and make you send me beef jerky. i like the beef jerky

butterball: hell no. that shit's expensive!

me: but i will TELEPATHIZE YOU! then you will be FORCED to. you have no choice.

me: but anyway (beef jerky), how was your day (beef jerky)?

butterball: your Jedi mind tricks don't work on me.

me: what jedi mind tricks (beef jerky)? i dont know what you mean (buy me some). you are mistaken (beef jerky).

butterball: I'm not phased (pictures of boobs) by your feeble attempts (and high heels) to get me to do things (booby shots). I'm not affected (breasts)

butterball: know what the big club drink here is?

me: umm...... cosmopolitans?

butterball: Red Bull and Vodka. Gets you smashed and makes you hyper at the same time.

me: does it give you wings?

butterball: My head is swimming... must .... eat .... meat!

butterball: OK... gnight.

me: i'll talk to you later.

me: (beef jerky)

now go say hello to butterball.

oh, and the next day? he pushed me off a boat. ok. technically he was on the other end of the boat looking in the opposite direction, but he pushed me with his mind.

and now for your bulleted pleasure, 5 things about the jackass:

1. the jackass enjoys a good dogpile. first thing in the morning. with a pile consisting of me and 3 of his family members.
2. he also likes it when i stand on him and jump up and down.
3. but one of his favorite things is when i poke him in the arm repeatedly.
4. and then i tell his mommy that he poked me (back) and she scolds him. ha ha!
5. the jackass and i like to participate in luge-racing. where i employ my motto "if you can't win, use excessive force."

back to piehole™ people

for example, this one time? lunatic took the entire design office to the lobby to show us how to operate the new light fixtures. he stood in front of the switch and said "this is how you turn it on" and then he flicked the switch.

ooga ooga!! magic light! where do it come from? we scared the magic light! run!

and now for your bulleted pleasure, 5 things about the lunatic:

1. lunatic is so anally retentive his face has caved from the gravitational pull of his ass.
2. lunatic loves me. i do not understand why. but, i do not question it as long as the bonuses keep showing up on my desk.
3. lunatic wears sock garters. ba ha!
4. if he makes me listen to the soundtrack of moulin rouge one more time, i'm going to kill him.
5. there is nothing funnier than a drunken lunatic doing a monkey impression in the middle of happy hour on a lovely summer afternoon.

he better invite me even though i'm far away, or i will kick him in the nards.

and when we talked last night, i noted that it was odd that given the how fabulous i am, nobody is marrying me.

i said it's because men are intimidated by my great beauty.

he says it's because i'm scary.

yeah. love ya too.

Dickhead Ponch is my (almost) ex-husband. but way before he was that, he was my high-school sweetheart (awww).

And this one time? I was going to ride a bike to the store and he said, "Don't ride it". Something about it being too tall for me and having a flat tire. And I said, "Pft! You can't tell me what to do!" and took off down the street.

And then a cat ran in front of me and I freaked out and fell down. On a cactus. And then Ponch laughed. And then I gave him the stink eye and walked home and made him pull the thorns out of my ass.

Now here are 5 things about the Ponch:

1. Yes. I married Ponch. Complete with the Erik Estrada bouffant hair. It is thick, and lustrous, and VERY Q-TIP LIKE IN APPEARANCE!
   
2. When Ponch visited my neighborhood, he got hit on A LOT! By The Gays! Oh how I laughed and I laughed... because he is Homophobia Ponch.
   
3. Ponch has a several siblings that I like a lot and a mother that I would like to poke with a fork. Or stab. Possibly with a knife.
   
4. Ponch often smells like Rustoleum. But that's only when he doesn't smell like motor oil.
   
5. My mother named her cat "Ponch", because like Ponch, he is very very pretty... But dumb.

You see, he has the skin elasticity of a man half his age. And that's elastic! and his hairline is receding at the temples and it's the cutest thing ever! EVER! Also, he is hot!

And now for your bulleted pleasure, 5 things about the man I sometimes see naked:

1. Geriatric Mark is a honky. He is the honkiest honky in all of Honkytown.
2. Geriatric Mark is 40. I am 31. This makes our relationship COMPLETELY NOT WEIRD!
3. Geriatric Mark has several children. One of whom is grown. (!!) And the rest which are almost grown. (!!)
4. Geriatric Mark sometimes says words I have to look up in the dictionary. This means he is smart.
5. Geriatric Mark says that I知 hot. Which means he is also observant.

Back to peeps

1. Mommy has gun. Bullies scared.
2. Mommy has gun. Boys scared.
3. I know what happens to bodies that have been in the ocean for 2 weeks. (BLECH!)
4. Can't watch violent gangland movies without comments about the inaccuracy of the blood spatter patterns.
5. Can't watch a movie with people blowing their heads off without hearing "Pft! That doesn't look like brain matter!"

1. I never need to pay cover charge... Like, ever.
2. I never need to pay for concert tickets... Like, ever.
3. I never need to pay for day cruise tickets... Like, ever.
4. I never need to pay for hotels... Like, ever.
5. If you need someone whacked, I know some people.

---

Me: GOOD GOD... A HEAVENLY MAN JUST WALKED IN

Me: MUST.... NOT.... HUMP....

Me: GAH! WHY DOES HIS NECK HAVE TO BE SO FREAKING HUGE?!

Me: AND HIS HEAD SO BALD?

Me: IM GOING TO GO MAKE A SPECTACLE OF MYSELF

Me: BE RIGHT BACK.

[Time passes]

Me: DRAT! HE ESCAPED

Me: DAMN HIM AND HIS STUPID CARPET SAMPLES

---

And it's all in caps, so I must've been really excited.

Please insert your horrified reaction here.

Porny wanted the brownies. Porny asked the vendor what kind of brownies those were, and the vendor said, "Herb. Herb brownies."

And Porny thought it was strange that American's put herbs in brownies, but figured she'd give it a whirl.

Porny ate the whole brownie.

Porny is tiny. And delicate. Porny was stoned for 3 days.

Hah!

And here's some bulleted pleasure:

1. Porny is allergic to everything. Even celery!
2. Porny is often mistaken for an Asian porn star.
3. Porny has the hots for Kevin Bacon... Ha ha!
4. Porny can tell the difference between mule and wheat.
5. Porny has everything... Need an umbrella? Porny has one. Need tylenol? Porny has some. Need a shoe horn? Hey, go see Porny. She probably has one.

Frickin' kid.

Also, they spiffied up the elevator in my building. Now, instead of ghetto-vator, it looks like this:

It is "gawdy-vator"! Or as I like to call it, "The Box of Painful Static Electrical Shocks".

Now go look at these pictures of my 'hood.

Dickhead + Jennifer = Aneurism

The Full-Time Booty Wanting Guy + Jennifer = Aggrevation

Jackass + Jennifer = Injury

Geriatric Mark + Jennifer = A confused, anxious, and otherwise dorky state

(sigh) People are going to drive me mad! Mad as pants!

---

Anyway! It's time for dinner... How's about some egg substitute with a side of flintstone vitamins?

No?

Fine. That's the last time I invite you to dinner.

Anyway, let us look see what I got in the mail from Brenda! Yay!

I want all my boxes addressed to "Curator/Seattle Crap Museum" from now on, by the way.

This box contains: Powerpuff girl stickers, a Darth Vadar mini puzzle, lip gloss, barnyard stickers, and the following acquisition:

One ugly ass smash clock! I LOVE IT! <3!

And a set of 9 booze and hula themed magnets. Yippee!

They will be happily displayed amongst my dirty poetry magnets and my favorite magnet!

SUMOTORI!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get my Mommy's day on.

While talking to Jennifer's filthy rich friend Shmooey, who suggested they meet for coffee at Starbucks, Jennifer responded "STARBUCKS! Starbucks is for evil EVIL people!" To which Shmooey replied, "Girly, where do you think my money came from?" To which Jennifer answered, "Err... From evil?"

APPARENTLY, Jennifer's rich friend Schmooey is MOTHERFUCKING RICH (and evil) because he invested in Starbucks when it was just SIX stores.

Well, I guess there goes all possibility of my inheriting a large sum of money from Motherfucking Rich Schmooey.

TASK: Pick ANY [15] of your [favorite diaries]. Without revealing their names, say something about (or to) each one of them. Never reveal who they are.

1. You're so sweet. Whenever I read you I just want to pat you on the head. Seriously. I really like you. Even if you are short.
   
   
2. Thank you so much for the webcam with which I can take naked... err... I mean, FAMILY pictures. Yes. That's what I mean. And may I also say, boys like you don't actually exist do they? Also, I am ticked that your new email program thinks all my correspondence is spam! Bah!
   
   
3. You probably have no idea just how much I respect you. You have the conviction of a freaking suicide bomber, and I love ya for it. Even if you are a big jackass. Oh wait. It's actually because you're a big jackass... But I'm still not showing you my business.
   
   
4. You're always so freaking funny! Sometimes when I'm bored or drunk, I go read thru your archives. And hoo haa! I pee myself! Oh the hilarity!
   
   
5. LUCY LIU! You are seriously demented, dude. I don't know if we're twins or soulmates... But, if you make fun of my boyfriend on speaker phone one more time, I swear I will beat your skinny crackah ass within an inch of your life! GRR! Don't doubt me man! My people know how to use a machete.
   
   
6. Oh, how I miss you so. Your flowing brown tresses. Your broad shoulders. Your big caterpillar eyebrows... (Sigh) You're so handsome. So tall. So uncoordinated. So stupid... PS. I loved you in your KFC commercial!
   
   
7. I wish you would update more. I miss your entries like the dickens... Come on, woman! You have kids! You're approximately my age! Don't leave me all alone!! I'm here with a bunch of teenagers and queers! Help!
   
   
8. You remember, like, 3 years ago when we met ONLINE like a couple of geeks? And then, like, 2 years later, we both ended up on Dland? And then, like, a couple months ago you finally sent me a picture of you looking really furry? Well, you look like how you look in my head. Except with less crack. (But only a little less)
   
   
9. Sometimes I want to grab you by the arms and shake you and make you do what I want you to do because you so remind me of me a few years ago. But then? You would have to be able to read my mind, because I'm trying desperately not to say everything I feel. Oh, and you know what else? You rock. I know. Other people know. And it's about damn time the people around you know too. Go kick them in the nards.
   
   
10. The craziest thing about you? Is just how much you remind me of me back when I didn't have any responsibilities... RUN GIRL! RUN! ... Straight to the pharmacy! You need to be medicated! Stat!
    
    
11. Yours was the very first diary I got addicted to. Thank you for updating frequently! If you and I ever met, I fear for everyone in the room, because GIRL! I think you talk more than me! And if I go by the example set that time we typed via IM? You make me talk more too... I think my fingers went numb.
    
    
12. You might be the sweetest man alive. I would like to shrink you down pocketsized and squeeze the shit out of you intermittantly throughout the day.
    
    
13. I think you and I would really make great friends. Not just because you have an accent I could make fun of all the time, but because you don't have ugly feet and you smell good. And those are the virtues I find most important in a friend.
    
    
14. You know, I'm kind of glad you stopped allowing comments on your entries, because that saves me so much time deciding whether or not to sign and then opening up the comments form and then typing in something and then thinking it sounds stupid, so then I leave it open forever while I try to think of something funny to say because it is so important that I not look like a dud, and then I give up and just close the stupid window. Thanks!
    
    
15. Ooooh! I know about you and what you did that time! I KNOW! I KNOW! Tee hee! And it makes me laugh.

My Pretend California Boyfriend is the foreman on one of the projects at work, is a tall, big boned white boy and according to my sources is not fat. In his spare time he enjoys being sexually harassed by me.

And this one time? I was at work, and I got a call from this site? And the guy on the other end talked to me about a bunch of work stuff? And then I asked for a call back number, and he gave me his HOME number. HA HA!

But it was "by accident". Get it? "Accident".

And here are five things about My Pretend California Boyfriend (also known as "Satan"):

1. Satan is 6'4", 37 years old, has brown hair, grew up in Northern California, drives a truck, and goes to the gym frequently.
2. When referred to as "My Pretend California Boyfriend", my co-workers have been known to say, "Pretend? My ass!"
3. No really. I'm just pretending he's my boyfriend. Honest! Even with all the giggling and the weird early morning/late evening phone calls... PRETEND!
4. My Pretend California Boyfriend is really pushy! And while that is amusing in regular life, it is exasperating in work life.
5. I once emailed a picture to My Pretend California Boyfriend of me picking my nose... Because it's the most flattering picture in the world!

Back to the Peeps

Bren sent me stuff in the shape of my peoples! Oh, how I loves me a tiki shaped tablecloth weight! And dude. That bread is dangerously good.

But just for the record... I am not in the habit of eating food sent to me by people on the internet. So don't be gettin' any crazy poisoning-me ideas. A'ight? A'ight!

I am a very mean person. As evidenced by the fact that I give random people very very mean nicknames... People such as... The Potato.

Seriously. Like, the woman is the color of a motherfucking russet potato! She's all, like, brown and gray. It's gross, man! Seriously!

Now here are 5 disgusting, disturbing, and/or weird things about The Potato (in fancy numbered format!):

1. The Potato should seriously consider not going to the tanning salon EVER AGAIN IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. I think the residual radiation will keep her potato-brown for the next 25 years. Blech!
2. The Potato is seriously pocket sized. I swear I could pick her up and put her in my pocket... Which is not as exciting as a Pocket Gay, but definately twice as disturbing.
3. I seriously believe that Lunatic thinks that The Potato is attractive... Ha ha! Silly gay people! You know nothing of the girls! Seriously!
4. The Potato is one of those women who you can seriously picture carrying a dog around in her purse.
5. It is seriously hard to try not to laugh whenever The Potato is in the office. Especially since I take it upon myself to go... "Yo! Idaho in da hizzouse!" and then make that raising-the-roof hand motion thing.

When I went back home, I was very alarmed to see that my mother has turned into The Cat Lady... Eek! She's 2 years away from wearing her pantyhose in donuts around her ankles.

However, there may still be some hope... She has named one of them after my ex-husband, because it is gorgeous, but really stupid.

HA HA! That is just mean... Funny. But mean. HA HA!

Because I already have a headache, I figured... why not make it worse by re-living actual conversations with my mother?

Mother: Why does everyone in Seattle wear black?

Me: Because.

Mother: It's so depressing. You all must be depressed. No wonder you all kill yourselves.

Me: Yup. It's because of The Gap.

Mother: Why can't you wear colors?

Me: Well, you can... Just with black. You can't wear, like, purple and green at the same time.

Mother: Why not?

Me: Do we have to go over this again? Because. They. Don't. Match.

Mother: (Leering) What kind of Filipino are you?

Me: The kind that looks really white.

Mother: You are not my child.

Me: I'm not? Yay!

First off, I would like to thank everyone who participated in Send Me a Picture of Your Penis Day. It's been fun... In a very disturbing way...

And now I leave you with some cleaning tips from the world's craziest nut job, Momzilla:

• Apply Lemon Pledge to your kitchen sink every day... That way, the water just, WHOOSH, slides right off!

• Apply Lemon Pledge to all laminate surfaces... That way, everything will just, WHOOSH, slide right off!

• Apply Lemon Pledge to the outside of the washer and dryer... That way, the lint just, WHOOSH, slides right off!

• Apply Lemon Pledge to the inside of the washer and dryer... I don't know why. Maybe because my mother is insane?
  

Growing up in my house, ice was a very important part of our lives. In my mothers eyes, a life without ice cubes coming out of our ass is not worth living. NO ICE CUBES? Oh the humanity!

---

Crazy loon: "Who didn't make ice? Why isn't there any ice? Is it so hard to fill up the tray with water? Jesus H. Christ! It doesn't take that long! Just fill up the damned tray! God! How many times do I have to tell you?"

Me: :yawn:

---

Nutbag: "GOD DAMN IT! The ice is frozen! Why didn't anyone make new ice? Why do we have an ice bin? Huh? It's for holding ice! Damn it! Would you all just MAKE MORE ICE? Jesus H. Christ! Are you blind? If you see the ice is done, why can't you just make more? God! How many times do I have to tell you?"

Me: :yeahright:

---

Me: "Oh no. No ice cubes. I guess we'll have to kill ourselves now."

Totally-not-sane: "WHAT? No ice cubes? Jesus H. Christ! How many times do I have to tell you people? JUST MAKE MORE ICE! It's not that hard! God! Don't you have eyes? WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP TELLING YOU? Jesus!"

---

Aww. My poor poor mother. How did she survive when she was given 2 children who didn't watch the freezer like a hawk for signs of completed ice cubes... Poor, poor whack job.

Home to some of the ugliest, most poorly designed, and uncomfortable furniture on earth...

In the most horrifying fabric patterns, from the most unfortunate times in furniture design history...

And look how roomy!

My brother is abnormally tall. And while his size brings fear to the hearts of many, it makes him extremely easy to spot in a crowd.

And this one time? When we were little? We were playing at the table, and I accidentally stabbed him with my fork... You know, because I'm nice like that.

Five things about my very big brother:

1. My brother is a professional squid.
2. My brother and I totally do NOT look alike. I'm so pale, my people laugh at me... And he's so dark, he turns purple when you lay him in the sun for a few hours. (It's really weird.)
3. When he was a newborn, I almost killed him by feeding him popcorn... According to my mother, anyway. But she lies.
4. When he was about 10, he took his skateboard down a very steep hill, and crashed directly onto his head. He ended up having to have emergency brain surgery, where they removed a portion of his brain, and was in a coma for 3 days. Moral of the story: Wear a freaking helmet, you goons!
5. My brother has Asperger's Syndrome... We're so hip even our disorders are trendy.

Last night I had a very long discussion with my stepfather about very interesting things like concrete reinforcement and header beams. I bet you're jealous!

Well, actually, he's not really my stepfather. He's my mother's long-time boyfriend (16 years?) and professional embarrasser... Not that I don't love him and all, but we're talking about a man who once came into my office... you know, that place I work? With that boss guy? And those co-worker people? You know, that place? That's the place he came into IN HIS UNDERWEAR! Ack!

... And I have to stop that story right there because it gets even more petrifying, and I am only capable of experiencing so much petrification at one time.

You may remember her from such times as that period of time when I was drunk a lot... Which now that I think about it, may seem eeriely similar to all of the time, but trust me, when we were working together, my blood alcohol level hoovered around 0.08 all day long.

Suki has a brand new blog! And not nearly enough free time to hang around with me (WHAT?!?) whenever it is I have free time! (FREE TIME?!?) Suki has two kick-ass kids, a huge collection of platform shoes, an enormous brain, dances like a mo'fo, and mixes a martini that can MELT YOUR FACE OFF... Seriously. Don't drink it. UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE!

This morning, I dropped Adi off at the airport and quickly realized, this totally bites!

OH MY GOD! I'M ALL ALONE AGAIN! AND HORRIBLY BORED! AND DEVOID OF REGULAR ADULT CONVERSATION!

While he was here, there weren't any conversations about poop! * And the whoopee cushion was only used once, which is a SHARP decrease in whoopee cushion usage. And best of all? When Turdface decided to LIE DOWN on the floor of the movie theatre, I wasn't the one who yelled "OH MY GOD! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!??! GET OFF THE FLOOR!!!!" which I think is my favorite thing ever!

I need more houseguests more often... Especially the kind that will yell at my kid.

*OK, well maybe there were a couple. But all were instigated by me, so it totally doesn't count.

What do you do about someone who correctly guesses your underwear every day? (Underwear? No underwear? And today... Black panties?) What the crap? HOW DOES HE KNOW?

How he knows

1. Binoculars
   
2. Installed webcam in panty drawer
   
3. X-ray vision
   
4. Is Satan

1. Kill him
   
2. ...

This one time? The Pool Boy and I were sitting at a table in the kitchen, and he FED ME A BITE OF HIS SANDWICH. And then my heart expanded so much that it filled up my entire torso and made me have to pee... And want to marry him. And then later, he put my head on his lap so I could take a nap... So I wanted to marry him again.

I think I may be too easy to please.

And now for a bulleted list:

1. Even though he is a whopping 9 inches taller than me, when we sit next to each other, we're the same height! He has legs for days. Hell, weeks.
   
2. When he laughs (at me) he throws back his head and laughs with his whole body (at me)... This is the best kind of laugh EVER.
   
3. When he looks at me, my nose crinkles right up and I smile like a doofus. I CAN'T STOP THIS FROM HAPPENING.
   
4. Somebody is having issues with male pattern baldness.
   
5. He has giant hands. Like, they're not so much hands as they are mitts. And when he holds my hand, he insists on interlacing his FAT SAUSAGE FINGERS in my NORMAL HUMAN BEING FINGERS, and let me tell you - that shit hurts!

My mother has never been of any help in stressful situations. Not because she freaks out like normal not-mean mothers, but because NOTHING freaks her out... There could be blood spurting out of your head, and she'd tell you to quit your whining and stop bleeding all over the place.

I wish I was exaggerating about this, but when I tore a huge gash in my leg (here's a visual aid*) she stood outside the ambulance and LAUGHED! At my GAPING WOUND! I was freaking out. Standersby were freaking out. My mother... Cah-razy laughter.

(* Please excuse the shiny daikon leg. I know it is blinding. I'm sorry for any retina damage you may have incurred.)

Other things said during/after various injuries:

1. Great. Trying to make your legs match?
   
2. You called an ambulance for THAT?
   
3. And why, exactly, did you have to bleed on the carpet?
   
4. Oh GREAT! More stitches!
   
5. Jesus! Quit screaming! You'd think someone was trying to kill you or something. (No, they were just trying to sew me back together with no anethesia and I am seven years old.)

Can't get no sympathy from that woman.

Tonight I am going out with Fake Wendy and Fake Anne and some other fake people to be named after I have seen them hammered.

This will actually be the first night I've been out without my nose firmly planted in a book in a REALLY long time. But don't get me wrong! I'll still be bringing one... Because they might be boring.

(Ha ha! I am kidding! You won't be boring! You will be DRUNK!)

Last night I went with Fake Anne and Fake LaCroix and Fake Wendy and Real Jocie and Real Jenifer and her husband (our token boy) to opening night of Train of Thought. (Which is worth going to for the wigs alone... Also the penguins. Who doesn't love penguins?)

But before that they got me almost drunk, made me do math, and ponder the existence of the Neutron Dance... Some other stuff happened too, but the hell if I can remember it. (See above mentioned "almost drunk".)

And for some reason, this is the only picture I took.

Alrighty then! Enough beer for me!

PS. Why is everyone from the internet so cute?

Today I called my friends in New Zealand to tell them that I will be sleeping in their guest bedroom, eating their food, making them cart my sorry ass around, corrupting their children, and talking until their ears fall off their heads.

It's so fun being my friend!

I also whined about how much I hate just cooking for myself, because then I end up having to eat the same thing for the next five days.

Her: Why don't you just put it in the freezer?

Me: I can't put it in the freezer! It's full of ice cream and waffles. And margarita mix... I know what's important!

I stupidly forgot to bring my camera out last night, which is inexcusable when going to my favorite cheesy Seattle bar. But thankfully, Cinderella comes prepared. Because how sad would I be if you did not get to experience the magic that is the Hot Savior?

In case you can't read the tummy: "Daddy Don't Like Ugly"... Sing it Hot Savior! Sing it!

PS. The Librarian got macked on! (I SAW THAT DIRTY MAN HITTING ON YOU!) Drew really is "special", and Mr. Fancypants really does have fancy pants!

Nothing is more satisfying than taking a picture of your friend peeing in a bush and posting it on the internet.

My friend Montgomery is from deepest, darkest, Alabama and has the sweetest Southern accent you ever did hear... Y'all.

And everytime I run into him, I feel like standing on a veranda with a parasol and a mint julep, ringing a dinner bell, and hollering, "Mont-gum-reh! It's suppah time!"

I need more friends with Southern accents. It's just too much fun to stereotype and mock their backgrounds.

PS. Mont-gum-reh has moved to Palm Springs... That's not very Southern!

I think I've had just enough thinking about The Cancer today.

First I bug The Children of Cancer Survivors, GW and the :poolboy:. And then I read books on chemotherapy. And then at lunch, I sit next to an Irishman, and because I am a beacon to Irishman everywhere, we end up talking about HIS RECENT BREAST CANCER DIAGNOSIS.

Does everyone in the world have breast cancer or something?

I am worn the fuck out... Because despite my mother's best attempts to keep me out of the loop, I'm still in it... Sort of. I'm just forced to piece together small bits of information with pure conjecture and, ASSUME what her diagnosis is. WHICH COULD BE ANYTHING! 65%? 40%? 15%? How the fuck do I know? I'm not an oncologist!

BAH!

I'm just going to spend the rest of the day watching "Grizzly Man", drinking margaritas, baking cookies, and being oblivious.

Mothers! PFT.

If you've ever wondered what a BBQ without boys is like, it's like - the same, except that you have the following conversation:

"How can you tell when it's done?"
"I don't know... When it's black?"

Also, this conversation:

"How did you get it [the BBQ] to work?"
"I just pressed the button a lot."

And there may have been a conversation about our hair. But that one would have happened even if boys were there because, hello? Our hair is fabulous! Or maybe just frizzy.

And then I laughed until my sides hurt, because that's what happens when you're on a roof with Anne, LaCroix, Wendy, and my own personal Suki.

PS. Drinking one and a half beergaritas will wake you up at 3am with a pounding tequila headache!

PSS. Sending the :poolboy: pictures of the festivites results in a message on your answering machine complaining of the lack of cleavage and/or girl on girl action.

I called my long-suffering friends in New Zealand and had the following conversations:

* Dangerous Chinese candy is not actually poison! Just dangerous.

Me: my pretend indie band name is "the hot baby wipes"

Mmat: i was in a band for a while called stain back in high school
but then that band staind came out and gayed everything up

Me: maybe my band should be called stryperd

Mmat: hahahaah

Me: or motley crued

Mmat: beatlesd

Me: rolling stoned

Mmat: styxd

Me: air supplied

Me: rushd

Mmat: 50 centd

Me: busta rhymed

This morning, my Very Tall Friend and his adorable (like a button!) wife, who are in London at the moment, emailed this to me:

Yesterday, my old (heh) boyfriend :geriatricmark: turned FORTY THREE FOUR* EONS OLD. I'm hoping that this is the year that he will start to wear his pants too high, because last year he took care of all that mid-life crisis stuff. (Except, no ponytail and no earring! NO FUN!)

Also, did I tell you that he is now a GRANDPA? Of a human child? ... I used to date a grandpa! Holy shit.

... Hmm... That revelation just made me forget all the snarky things I was going to say. Great.

* Edited to say: He's even OLDER!! (And I'm not good at adding.)

mmat: i LOVE the name. it's so communist!

mmat: MY SOFA NAME IS KRAMFORS!

me: MAYBE YOU CAN GET AN ARMCHAIR NAMED DELTAFORS! ... YOUR LIVING ROOM CAN HAVE A COLD WAR.

Last night, I went out for dinner with Lacroix and Kate.

Amazingly we recognized each other even though we haven't seen each other in about four hundred years, and since we all have different hair. (Kate - longer, Lacroix - shorter, me - unintentionally short bangs... Oops!)

For some reason, we talked about our boobs, handbags, boys, and shoes. (Because we are HUGE FLAMING GIRLS!) And all of our homosexual friends. (Because we are HUGE FLAMING HAGS!) And we ate cake! And pie! And ice cream! And gnocchi! And then we spent a considerable amount of time wondering what was up with the guy with the PDA in his gun holster... Seriously - What? This is a MURSE* neighborhood, not a GUN HOLSTER neighborhood.

* Murse (Man Purse) = My new favorite word! (via Kate)

Me: You're a ho bag.

:pretend:: Ho bag?!? I'm not a ho bag!

Me: Yes you are... ho bag.

My Pretend California Arizona Boyfriend: I'm not a ho bag, you're a ho bag!

Me: No you're a ho bag!

My Pretend California Arizona Boyfriend: No you're a ho bag!

Me: No you're a ho bag!

(Repeat for infinity.)

I went to see The Golden Compass with Jenjamin yesterday, and I jumped out of my skin at least twice... At a PG-13 movie. I'm like an old lady! Or I'm just totally creeped out by monkeys. Or I'm an old lady that's totally creeped out by monkeys.

And now for your bulleted pleasure, here are 5 things about Jenjamin:

1. This one time? There was this guy with really long monkey arms? ... OK, actually it was me with the long monkey arms.

2. The only way I can get on Jenjamin's bed is to grab hold of the sheets and hoist myself aboard. And let me tell you, that is sexy. Especially when you say, "oy!" on the way up... You should try it! Boys totally like it.

3. On our first date, I danced the Robot. On our most recent date, I danced the Cabbage Patch. Next time I see him, I promised to do the Sprinkler... He has yet to dance in front of me. Probably because, unlike this girl he's dating, he's sane.

4. Me to him: "Hey look! Jen? Ben? Our names rhyme! Ha ha!"
   Him to me: "... oh god..."

5. Ben is musically inclined! He plays the drums, and the bass, and the piano, and various other stringed instruments... Do you know what this means? ... Look out for The Hot Baby Wipes upcoming debut album!
   

So that, if you are :pretend: (now my Pretend ARIZONA Boyfriend), I can say...

1. Why are you so stupid?
   
2. If you use the Papyrus font one more time, I'm going to stab you in the face.
   
3. Don't date whores!

My Pretend Arizona Boyfriend: I am so going to kick your ass.

Me: You can't kick my ass. I'm a ninja!

My Pretend Arizona Boyfriend: Ninjas have grace and agility. YOU ARE NOT A NINJA.

Me: What are you talking about? I have cat like reflexes!

My Pretend Arizona Boyfriend: DEAD cat reflexes.