Sunday, July 29, 2007


Hello impatient and disgruntled readers!

I am not dead. I haven't been inprisoned for punching a 4 year from the day-camp in my office in the face (yet...). I haven't fallen of my new, red bike and become a quadripalegic that can only communicate through a series of blinks and grunts. I haven't run away to Mexico with TheHubby/TheHippie to open our heart-shaped tortilla business. So, I guess I have no excuse for not updating my blog in over a month, other than:

- I have an exam on Tuesday. I'm not really studying, but I should be.
- It has been sunny. I have been working on my melanoma in my free time.
- Harry Potter 7 came out and that took over my life for a while. I also lined up at midnight with a group of fuggly teenagers wearing capes and brandishing wands. Accio dignity!
- I have been planning my shitshow of a trip to Europe with TigerCat. We leave in less than a month! I have no sense of direction and TigerCat has a finicky asshole. The Croatian language has no vowels. Should be awesome times!
- Facebook is taking over my life.
- So is "Hell's Kitchen" and "Wife Swap"
- My muffin regime finally caught up with me and I've been spending a lot of time in the gym to stave off the chins. I love that fat has an evolution. At 18, fat went mostly to the thighs. At 21, we discovered the "new" fat - the back fat. And now what I eat goes mainly to the jowels and bingo-wings. I am a creature of mysterious beauty.
- Work? I guess I still go there and stuff.

So, thank you for all of the threatenting messages. I promise I will update soon. I have plenty of stories. Like TheCrazy's bachelorette, where I wore an adult diaper and saw TheCrazy's vagine. And the upcoming TheCrazy/TheCastrato wedding, which words will not even be able to describe. I'll just have to post a picture of TheCrazy, naked except for her veil, zooming off in a golf cart and let your imaginations tell you the rest. Seriously, I imagine that something along those lines will happen. Probably because I'll suggest it.

I am off to the gym to work off another brunch courtesy of my grandpa, who almost killed us 5 times on the drive to the restaurant by stopping at green lights and stopping mid-turn at a busy intersection. I may vomit my bacon-course onto the treadmill, but the jowels! The jowels! And it's not like I'm going to stop eating fatty meats any time soon.

Fuck that. That's no way to live.


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