Sunday, March 15, 2009


This song bugs the mother fucking shit out of me for reasons I really don't know. It could be the nasally-stuck-in-his-throat harmony of Time Passages, though I'm not certain.

How mizzy does the broad look in this picture? To me, she screams: "Dress, stuff and roast you're own fucking turkey." I agree with her completely. Living in 2009, I have the privilege and luck of saying as much.

I'm irritated with nephroqueen's new medication. I think it's giving me headaches and making me tired. I'd call him Monday, but I'm seeing him on Tuesday. Gee, I can't fucking wait. I'm so excited. My nicknames for my nephrologist are: Obviously, nephroqueen, nephroboy, nephrologyboy, nephroasspain, kidneyologist, urinequeen, urarella, blood-and-urine-sucking-vampire, and I think that's pretty much it. Got any new ones for me?

I'm addicted to
Twitter, much more so than Facebook, not sure how I feel about Facebook or if I really want to assign an emotion to it.

My weekend has been great. Yesterday, was long, festive and kept me busy, running, doing, seeing, you know the drill.

Today, I'm getting myself a cheap-ass-massage-NO-release (they do rub and tugs for dames, did you know that? I didn't. What you would you call it anyway? A rub and rub? Lame).

I think I hate Wordpress, but I really want to like it.

I'm in a kvetchy, weird, don't know where to throw myself, mood. Fab. Fortunately, I'm extricating myself from my house in about an hour for the day, yay. That should turn my mood around.

I think it's odd when my shrinktail wears sweaters instead of a shirt. It's so, I'm a psychiatrist and you're not. He's just missing those Tweed elbow pads. Whatever the fuck they're called. I'm not breaking up with him. Shrinkdating him is great. However, I still have no fucking self-esteem. Eh, I'm hoping some of it will crawl up my ass and make its way to my brain. Wouldn't that be nice?

Have a great Sunday.



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