| Rathole |
[04 Nov 2003|10:34pm] |
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I did not get dressed today. Fermenting in white terry cloth and cherry chapstick, I decided to blend in and lounge around as Mummy Skin was ill. I made dinner and performed a few re-fills. Feeling domestic lately. I must dig out some curlers.
Watched The Fourth Protocol (1987) w/Michael Caine and Pierce Brosnan. It only served as mockery for me, sadly. Caine's elderly gait and yellowed teeth only prophesied that dastardly mess we've come to know as... the Austin Powers Trilogy. It being daytime and wholesome, the word "asshole" was dubbed over to be rathole. Caine's accent also mutilated the term "atom bomb". It reached the eardrum as atom bum. It was suitably funny. Rathole has won it's way into my jilted book of profanities.
Yes, movies don't stand a chance w/me.
The Cherub made me writhe like a pinned mealworm over the phone. He says he owes all his health-mania efforts as of late, to me. I've never been one to view confidence as a gift; I've always made mine. He quoted a dead American president, basically saying I was behind him and the person he was becoming. Embarrasing things; felt like Spock in the midst of a bridal shower of sorts.... I haven't done a thing though: I honestly haven't. I felt caught red-handed.
Tomorrow I arise. I'll polish and clean and make my path sheen. How embarrasing sloth is.
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