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Boy am I uncomfortable. I hate dressing well, but Ms. Wickless called me up last night and was all, "Be sure to dress in business-appropriate clothing." So I was like, "FINE" and now I'm wearing clothes in which I can't sit anywhere dirty--as is my wont--or eat anything messy. All for a stupid training meeting bullshit. God! I was supposed to take my driver's test today, but there is no one to take me. So now I have to get another appointment for like a month from now. Grand. "Captain Video on my screen Tell me where I might have been Fucked up on some heroin Lacking beta-carotene" - AFMAMYGS Remember when I was in love with Pedersen? And like, I told her, and she was like "Oh," and then one two three everyone was over it? Yeah, I remember that too. So. Tera on Sunday. "21 Grams." Is it okay if I totally get turned on during that one part, and have to leave the theater? She'll totally know where I'm going--she knows how I feel about Naomi Watts. Mmm yes. Scream at me baby, that's right, louder baby, uh-huh. Ooh yeah, that's it. Here is my shoe--do with it what you will. I would dearly love to watch, however. Mayn't I? But I'm nervous about Tera though. Will she look at my eyes and know the disgusting scenes I've conjured, of which she and I are the stars? Will she know what, exactly what, I'd like to do to her, and how much, and where? Scott and I discuss threesomes all the time, and as he has seen a photograph of Tera, he would love her to come play. Should I mention it, as I would quite enjoy a diet sex excursion with the co-creator of the term? My vagina sucks at decision making. Mountain Dew for breakfast. It builds character. |
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okay.
