The One with All the Links
I know, I know. I was held hostage by green ninjas (the thing I call my desire to sit on my couch and let my mind go numb in front of the television). Anyway, this is going to me a long one so let me start with the links.
I was searching through My Space (I know, I felt dirty when I first got on it, like I was betraying Blogger, but I’m addicted now. I’ve found so many people. I haven’t contacted many, but I found ‘em). Anyway, this is a memorial page for a guy I knew in high school. Justin was the sweetest person I have ever met. He was always so kind to me even when the guy I was dating (his friend) wasn’t. He was a good man.
I watched this episode of My Unique Family on TLC (Yes, I was that desperate, sue me). How can you do this to your spouse? Maybe it’s because I have never really been in a relationship where I was completely in love with the person they were inside. And, yes, I understand the desire to want your partner to be happy with who they are, but still. He’s cutting off his balls now (he/she had the operation in the episode), but when is he going to cut off his cock? Sex is important, and when that’s gone, how long is it before the marriage ends and everyone is miserable. And their kids…those poor kids. How fucked up are they going to be?
I was listening to the radio on my way into work and the DJ was talking about this survey. I have way too many clothes as it is and I like sex way too much to give it up for a couple of shirts and a pair of pants. I can only give it up for a few months before I crave the contact. I certainly wouldn’t last 15 months and wouldn’t care to.
I was passing by our new neighbors office and it smelled just like every guys’ dorm in college – sweat, pot, cologne and the heat was on way too high. It really took me back.
I went to a Super Bowl party on Sunday last. Super fun. I ate way too much . We bet on most elements of the game, tequila was had, tequila is my friend. I love tequila. I want to marry tequila.
At this party, with the tequila, I had the urge to booty call Matt (that’s what happens when I drink). Since I promised myself to never sleep with him again, I had to text my sponsor, Travis. I was told not to call him, because I had a crush on him and he’s getting married and that would be slaggish. I called anyway, he didn’t call back. Probably a good thing, I had a dream he left his fiancée for me.
Don’t take this the wrong (i.e. dirty) way, but I licked the most disgusting envelope last week. I do the mail, I taste a lot of envelopes and this was the worst one I have ever tasted.
I would just like to say once again that my company’s lawyer is a tool. He spent a good chunk of last week on the phone with an insurance company whom he cursed and hung up on about three times. Mature? Oh, yeah.
Potato eyes look like those STD slides they use to scare you into not having sex. It’s like Scared Straight for your libido. You remember those. Those 20-30 year old slides you started hearing about the year before...the Coral Reef. I still remember that one.
Question: Is it wrong to just want to sit and eat cheese all day?
I was talking with Jo about crying over men. I came to the realization that I have never cried over a significant BF, only the minor ones. Maybe it’s because the significant ones give you the time to live with their faults, analyze them and let you make the decision to leave. The insignificant ones are mostly about hope and you put a lot into that hope and when it’s dashed, the dam breaks and you cry. I don’t cry that often. Except at Extreme Makeover: Home Edition…and the occasional country song...and when I found out Justin died.
That’s all for now. Check out my My Space page, search for BettyLou. Also, I have a picture of the Nephnie on there. Well, I will when I figure out how to upload it.
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