Right now, I have a gigantic mutant orange on my desk. It looks like the damn thing was injected with steroids. I almost don't want to eat it. I am afraid my nuts will shrivel.
Man, I am getting super lax with these updates. I guess it is just this time of year... for some reason, it always depresses the bejesus out of me. I don't have much to say and I feel like building a damn bunker around myself and hiding out. But I payed for another year of supergold membership, so you bitches are stuck with me.
Listening to the Dave Matthews file on my iTunes isn't helping. That damn Gravedigger song... sheesh, cheer the fuck up, Dave! Maybe I should switch over to the cheesy/funny file that includes such gems as:
Daisy Dukes -- 2 Live Crew
Shaft Theme -- Isaac Hayes
Peanut Butter Jelly Time -- Buckwheat Boys
Pee On You Remix--Dave Chapelle
All By Myself -- Green Day
Go Cubs Go! -- Steve Goodman
Give Me To Me Baby -- Rick James
Because I Got High -- Afroman
Macarena -- Los Del Rio
Tubthumping -- Chumbawamba
I Never Wanna Fuckin See You Again -- Rich Hardesty
Superbowl Shuffle -- Da Bears
Mambo No.5 -- Lou Bega
Are You Jimmy Ray? -- Jimmy Ray
I Would Walk 500 Miles -- Proclaimers
Theme Song -- Jem and the Holograms
Walk On The Wild Side -- Marky Mark
There is many more I didn't bother to copy and paste. Time is money, people!
The weekend was a blur. An absolute blur. I think I shall write about it now just so, in another year, I can remember. 28 is in 2 days and senility is kickin' in.
Friday, my boyfriend (who will be referred from now on as "Dio") and I went to Jin Ju, a fabu Korean place in Anderson(Lesbian)ville. What a cute area of Chicago! Supercuts, Doc Marten stores and plaid flannel, oh my! We came back, determined to just watch a movie and have some alone time, but the 17 phone calls from various members of the pink mafia ordered us to get our sweet little fannies over to this holiday party, STAT! I had earlier promised gay roommate (who will now on be referred to as "Daddy") that we would show up so he would have someone to talk to. I quickly realized I was not really needed. We come upon the scene of around 20 extremely looking gay men drunk off their asses and free flowing with affection, especially for yours truly. Dio sure is a trooper. I mean, how many guys could put up with their girlfriends getting groped and kissed by good-looking men right before their eyes? My favorite part of the evening was when the Daddy's boyfriend grabbed me to slow dance, so Dio grabbed the roommate to dance and went on to grab his ass. Talk about being comfortable with your sexuality! It is such a blessing that he gets along so well with these fabulous men that are so important to me.
I drove to Indianapolis in my rented 2005 Nissan Altima, which handles like a dream, in order to hang out with some college friends and celebrate some birthdays. It was yet another time where I realized I am now an adult. There was no beer in sight. No keg. No raucous music. Just gentle conversation, a shrimp platter along with other fabulous hors d'oeuvres and a neatly stocked bar including such items as Bombay Sapphire Gin. After gorging and drinking myself into what can only be described as a sickenley sweet wine coma, we headed off to the Broad Ripple strip. A friend's band was playing out the Patio, and while I don't normally enjoy that bar, I have to admit I had a pretty damn good time. We got a table (the high heels demanded it) and the band was a'rockin'. My girl Jessi got up on stage and poured her heart into some heavy-duty tambourine slapping. We revived some line dances from the heyday of 1998 and even reconnected with some old college buddies. I truly miss Indy, but I would take the expense and insanity of Chicago anyday. Who needs a savings account anyway?
Sorry, I am pretty lazy with this entry today. I don't feel like my normally witty and shockingly candid self today. And for some reason, the fine details that make my stories good are escaping me. At this point, let's be honest, I am phoning this shit in. Forgive me. I promise I will enage in some sort of scandalous activity in the next few days. The night of my birthday should yield a few good stories.