Friday, May 14, 2004

Kitten in the Shower.

Had a really nice night with Kitten. Watched a movie, had a cocktail or five, a slice of pizza; very relaxing.

“Have you lost your way home?”
“You say the most beautiful things—just like my violins.”
“Oui, mais tu sais—tu sias c’est bien pour rêver dans tes bras”
“Oui, je sais.”
“…putain…”
“…saloppe…”
“Suce-moi.”
“Baise-moi”
“D’ac.”

That’s not particularly goopy or romantic, I know. I’m on a huge sugar diet.

Though, bear with me a moment; I just finished reading another blog where the, presumably, female author wrote about her Mr. Wonderful. She can’t be mentally older than 5—and writes at the same level. This would put her directly at 30 years old. Anyway, she’s depressed about having sex. Well, babe, you’re in junior high. What the hell are you doing having sex already. Hanging up a big Do Not Disturb sign on that one. Though, it’s not quite sex she’s describing; it’s more like highly criminal activity. I thought one had to wait until frat parties until engaging in such behaviour. Oh the kids grow up so quickly these days. Lovely.

Let’s call her Betty. <--get it? It’s ironic; an iconoclastic name, it’s 1950s, yet so modern, and it’s like dude a really fascinating juxtaposition or like some junk or whatever. Yeah.

)|(

I’m glad I decided to put a bunch of investment in a particular corporation that manufactures self-reliance. I’ve been watching the stock of other self-reliance companies plummeting all around me, and while somewhat satisfying, it’s mostly awfully depressing. A few dozen or so corporations have gone bankrupt. Pretty sad.

Laura's taking a shower right now. She's getting water all over my bathroom. I better go see what's happening.

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