My nice school friend was over yesterday, and we toiled away at this ongoing irritating project, punctuating the tedium with lots of mindless chit-chat.

“So, whatcha gonna do for the rest of the day?” my friend asked. The weather was nice, but windy, and I knew I could get out if I wanted to.

“Unfortunately, I have an assload of laundry to do,” I replied.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She gathered up her things and prepared to scram out of the Asscave.

“Yeah, I have to wash my sheets a lot more often now that when I was married,” I said.

“Yargh! TMI! TMI!”

My friend. I love her, but she is going to have to get used to this nonsense if she wants to hang.

In Other News, I Am On the MF Jones

I am on the Motherfucking Jones, dudes. Things I want, in no particular order:

Cute Boy(s): I don’t feel like working on my paper anymore, so I now require service.

No mas head cold: However, the cute boy(s) would probably run screaming if they knew that part of the conditions of their service involved getting covered with intermittent bursts of snot. There’s always that conundrum: I want a cute boy(s) who will love me even if I am snotty, but then…who wants a boy who will stand there like a little bitch, being sneezed on? That’s probably a fetish, even. I am NOT going to Google that.

And don’t email me; I will not sneeze on you. Unless you buy me three sidecars. Also this, I really need this. Perhaps I should add it to my Wishlist.

No mas winter quarter: Winter quarter is now a hellride of epic proportions. Yes, I would chew off my own paw to get out. Flossing my teeth with the tendons in my wrist sounds delightful at this point. March twelfth, please get here. We don’t need no stabberation, immolation, in the dancerie.

No mas faux Spanish

A Brazillian, just for kicks: When things get boring, I get stupid. Things are so dull lately in a lot of ways, that I am considering getting most of the hair yoinked off my No-No Place for no good reason. I am supposed to go to a place where there are hot springs for spring break, and apparently the freakers in Washington State get starkers in them, even in March. So other occupants of the hot spring will get to see “interesting ” scars, stretchmarks, “creative pubes,” as well as goose flesh all over my body, instead of just the places I stick out of my swimsuit. Lucky, lucky, fucking nudists.

A cocksucking, motherfucking surfboard

For all my evil schemes to work out in the most righteous way possible: I wish I could tell you more than that, but I don’t want to jinx what I have cooking in the next couple of days. I will reveal all soon. I say that as if you are the edge of your seat, waiting to see how my riveting life unfolds.