I realized this today after reading about the sexual exploits of a washington insider chick:
A man who tries to fuck you in the ass when you are sober does not love you.
Bimbo or best-selling blogger: you decide.
I mean, I could certainly start a blog about my sexual escapades, but it would be pretty boring. At least here you get to see memes like this one (ganked from fairoriana):
Do you have any new year's resolutions?
No, not really. I don't do resolutions.
What are you hoping happens for you in the new year?
More financial stability, finishing work on the house, closure of some open things, better health.
What was the best thing that happened in the year that is passing?
Hard to pin it down to one thing. Finishing the movie was big. Dating Artemis. New roof, framed-in porch.
What was the most important thing that happened to you in the year past?
The most important? Hard to say, but I'll throw down taking an emotional risk without being burned.
What is one thing you've learned this year?
Cop-out answer: XML.
and discover exciting times of my life like when I was awakened this morning by a knock at the door. The only people that knock are either folks delivering stuff or about to cut off my utilities, or dear jeebus my mother.
Indeed, there was Mom at the back door. Good thing that I had chased out all the hookers and blow that I had been romping with and hid that half-tube of K-Y jelly earlier this morning.
(Note to self: K-Y jelly does not go well with peanut butter.)
She dropped in to see if I had cleaned any more after she had left. Then she took a nap on my bed, as well as parking her car in such a way as to block me in so I couldn't leave. I think she does this stuff on purpose because it gets a reaction.
I think my love gland is broken. No, not that love gland you twit, I'm just feeling completely unable to form a deep emotional bond with anyone. There's a lot of caring and affection, but it's all focused on an intellectual level. And that makes me sad.
I'm gonna go nap now. Squidhat out.