the Shakedown: slang. "a thorough search of a place or person." (dictionary.com)
Brain tourettes
Friday, Jun. 04, 2004 at 2:16 pm
You know you hate your job when everytime you get a work-related email, before you even open it, the voice inside your head is screaming, "SUCK MY BALLS AND DIE, YOU ASS-LICKER!!"
Different strokes for different folks
Friday, Jun. 04, 2004 at 12:09 pm
I'm twenty-six years old. I first had sex when I was sixteen. In the past ten years, I've had sex with fourteen men.
Miguel told me he's only been with six women. We are the same age. However, he was with one girl for six out of the last ten years. Also, he said he is way picky about who he sleeps with. I told him he's of a rare breed of men.
I wish I would have been more picky in the past. I was going over my "list" today and realized that I can't remember two of the guys' first names, and six of the guys' last names, if I ever knew them. Does that make me a whore? But do I really care? Nah.
It's just interesting. I think how many people a person has slept with does say something about their character. I'm not saying it's necessarily a good thing or a bad thing. But at the same time, why would you want to date a 30-year-old virgin, or worse, a 30-year-old who lost count after a hundred people. Yucky.
So maybe I am picky overall, but I've just had a few moments of indiscretion. I've never been one to let regret eat at me. The past is the past and there's nothing you can do about it. When people ask, "if there's one thing about your past you could change, what would it be?", I usually think, "nothing." Because everything that I've done and experienced in my past has played a role in molding me into the person that I am today. And I like me.
But back to the subject at hand. I want to know what you kids think. How many people have you boiked? How many is too many and at what age? Also, is it weird to be a virgin after your mid-twenties or do you think it's cool? Is sex ever wrong? And why?
Sucking big hairy ballsacks
Thursday, Jun. 03, 2004 at 1:21 pm
Have I mentioned that I hate being in love?
Fuck.
I've got the magic stick
Wednesday, Jun. 02, 2004 at 1:08 pm
I sniff my armpits. I pick my underwear out of my crack. I scratch my boobs. I drink and cuss like a sailor. I burp really really loudly. I have gas, a lot. And my favorite past-time is laying my fat ass on the couch watching mindless television for hours at a time.
Yet somehow, men go crazy over me. And yet somehow, I still manage to pull off being a "classy" gal. I've got skillz, I tell ya, mad skillz.
I need some feel-good fries
Tuesday, Jun. 01, 2004 at 1:18 pm
I need to start selling some real estate soon, because I'm getting more and more contempt of my day job with every passing moment. I'm sick of my desk, my office, our building, the parking and the people. Corporate American makes me want to poke out my brain slowly with a dull knife through my nostrils. I'll never work an 8 to 5 job as long as I live, mark my words. If you don't get it, just watch the movie, Office Space. Then you'll understand why I daydream about my office building getting hit by a flyaway missile.
Other than my soul-sucking day job, things are just peachy! So peachy, in fact, that I think I'm boring. I have a boyfriend, blah blah blah, I'm in love, blah blah blah, he gives me butterflies, blah blah blah. You know the drill. Good things really do happen to bad people. I�m proof!
I�m also in love with another man. Have I mentioned him? His name is Charlie Brown, a.k.a. my son. I�m so thankful for that little guy every single day. Sure, I want to beat him like an ugly step-kid sometimes, but for the most part, I like him. He�s funny, hilarious actually, he�s smart, he�s helpful and he�s very loving. Who knew I�d mold such an amazing child? Well, I did, but I don�t like to brag.
And now, for your viewing pleasure, more damn pictures.
Charlie Brown, with his freshly shaved summer-time crew cut.
Charlie and I.
If you think his cheeks are pinchable, you should see his booty!
Me and my man.
I�m too sexy for this picture. . .
or at least I thought so at the time!