OMG. Last night I stayed in a Motel 6 and the couple next door were having such wild, animal sex that *I* was sweating and weak kneed by the time they finished. We had…I mean “they” had sex three times during the night. One can only assume they’re either newlyweds or total strangers. They were loud and enthusiastic and now I’m incredibly horny. People are right, there’s never a cop around when you’re horny. I knocked on their door this morning to tell them that I had to dash out for breakfast and pick up my car, and I’d be back within an hour. I told him that if they were going to have sex to wait till I got back. I didn’t want them starting without me. Then I called Mr. G and told him that while I wanted to come home, I was having trouble finding my way. That oughta buy me some more nasty sex time.
I put in a call to South and told him I needed fresh pictures of hott guys. I told him I was mega horny and that I was jillin’ til my fingers ache. (Hey, that would make a great album title…)
What does he do? He sends me pics of himself. As IF.
Then he asked me how Mr. Snuggles was faring. I told him that aside from the food he left for him, the poor cat hadn’t eaten a bite. (It’s called “laying the groundwork,” kids. That way it won’t come as a huge shock when he finds a dead cat.) I told him that I coaxed and coaxed, but the cat refused to eat. (And that’s called “making myself look good,” kids.)
When I was eating breakfast, I heard on the morning news that Terrell Owens is putting out a series of children’s books. The first book is called “Little T Learns To Share.“ Little T is the name of the kid in the book, not his nickname for his penis. Geez, talk about an egomaniac. Dude can’t even write a book about someone other than himself.
Now here’s the funny(ier) part: the title of T.O.’s second book is “Little T Learns What Not To Say.” It’s perfectly obvious to me that the co-author wrote most of that book since Big T Hasn’t Learned What Not To Say In Real Life. Ya can’t teach what ya don’t know. Hmm, maybe Big T ought to read his own book? Third book is “Little T Packs His Bags And Moves To Another Team Once Again.” Ooops. It’s “Little T Learns to Say I’m Sorry.”
Bugs pointed out that this whole TMX Elmo scam has the potential to turn in to the horrible Cabbage Patch Shortage of Whatever Year That Was. I never caught Cabbage Patch Fever. Sure some of the older offspring wanted one, but I felt that it was way too much money for an ugly doll with a big head and a goofy looking body. When you have enough offspring that you can staff your own sweat shop, you have to learn to cut corners….on their stuff. More money spent on the kids is less money spent on my bad habits.
So I created my own line of homemade dolls, called the Lettuce Lovin’ Clan. I felt that not only was the doll functional but each doll provided a nutritious message (and snack). I will be the first to admit that I didn’t totally think this idea through. Especially when one of the offspring woke up screaming hysterically because her Lettuce Lovin’ Doll started to rot in the middle of the night. But I think I handled it quite well by thinking quickly on my feet and saying, “Oh, look, your doll is dead. Heave her into the trash.”
I watched a fabulous show yesterday on Discovery on Navy Seal training. Wow! After watching what exhausting training they go through I’m almost ashamed to complain about having to do 45 minutes of TaeBo five days a we–yay! The couple next door pounded on the wall, signaling they’re warming up. Let the fucking fun begin!
