Katie Schwartz

So last night, Laura called… Oh my God, I’m so exhausted. We were on the phone for like FOUR HOURS! She was crying and everything. George stopped going down on her when the war started. The last time this happened was after George got sober. Billy Graham told him he had to stop all deviant behavior, so naturally he stopped going down on her. But after a year, Laura went ape shit and called Barbara. Barb talked to George and explained that he had to go down on her at least once a month and that giving his wife a modicum of sexual satisfaction was not deviant, it was normal. George said that he was afraid if he went down on her, he’d end up going on a bender. Barb told him his father did a shot of Nyquil right before and three shots of extra strong Listerine right afterwards. Laura said George Jr. worships George Sr., so he followed his dad’s oral protocol. Laura hated it, but said he really knew how to eat pussy, so she dealt with it. Anyway… Just before the war started, Billy and Georg...

"I'm Pam Anderson, but Mensa"

You ever notice that in every lifer semicolon flick there's always a shimmy tomboy named, Jesse?! She's from the school of hard knocks. She's rough with a soft, predictible interior. Right? How annoying!

...you contract strep vagina from your girlfriend, and give her strep ass . Yes, that is what my friend, Edwina shared with me. Ah, the trials and tribulations of bumping beavers.

I am new to blogging. Question, what does a girl have to do to get comments around here? I have hit a lot of blogs with severely boring content, and they get comments. COME ON! Throw me a bone, even if it's hateful. I can take it. I sure as shit can dish it out, donchya know! Is it the excessive use of exclamation points? Don't blogs seem like self indulgent crap? To me they do. I feel so narcissistic with this Blog, you just don't know. And of course that sends me right into a guilt cul-de-sac that I couldn't possibly extricate myself from. I think I'm going to flog Katie now. No… I'll eat. I'll gorge my fat fuck self on fat-artery clogging foods. No... I'll exercise. No... So not in the mood. What a day. This day sucked ass and it's not even over yet. FOR THE Love OF Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhd!!

I guess I had, “will fuck for food,” scrolling across my forehead in bold fire engine red font. Or at least to Mr.-Suit-Daddy-of-Doom I did. And what an esteeming moment for Katie that was. Henry suffered from a severe case of assholicitis. He probably contracted it from his father, Henry Sr. when he was a child. While other kids were playing with their friends in the sandbox, Henry Sr. was teaching his son how to be the perfect prick, leading by example. My best friend, Katie Donnelly hooked me up with Henry because he was traveling to New York for business. She assured me that his work personality was charming and witty. Though I’m not a fan of the blind date, I figured how bad could it be? He lived Philly. We didn’t run in the same circles and our paths would never cross unless I schlepped to Katie’s office, which wasn’t happening anytime soon. While I prefer to be a veritable whore for one true love, if it’s been awhile, which it had, a fierce pounding was in order for this millenn...

so my neighbor borrowed my entire screwdriver collection, and like never returned them. Isn't that wrong? You can't just abscond with a woman's screwdrivers for crissakes. When am I going to take the time to buy more? She's foreign, so does she think borrow means keep? How very ethnocentric of me to say. So, I am a snatch on wheels. Still. I want my fucking screwdrivers back.