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Posts Tagged ‘crass aplomb’

 
|| August 19, 2000 || 11:44 am || Comments (0) ||

…the bad thing about a good morning lay is that the rest of the day has a lot to live up to.

YOU KNOW??

 
|| August 16, 2000 || 11:21 am || Comments (0) ||

Last night, around 10:30 p.m.:

Me, muttering about T.V.: “What a fucking freak…”
Him: “Are you talkin’ to me?”
Me: “No, I’m talking to myself ’cause I’m a better conversationalist and have a much larger vocabulary.”
Him: “Why you wanna hurt my feelings by telling me the truth?”
Me: “I was exaggerating about your conversation skills…”

We laugh and hug. He gives GREAT hugs.

 
|| August 12, 2000 || 12:53 am || Comments (0) ||

I hereby dedicate the following post to Mistuh Dirk Buh-lidge-ah-runt with all the fondness one can muster through clenched teeth:

Stress Management:

  • Mentally picture yourself near a stream.
  • Birds are chirping in the crisp, cool mountain air.
  • Nothing can bother you here.
  • No one knows this secret place.
  • You are in total seclusion from that place called the “world.”
  • The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.
  • The water is so clear that you can easily make out the face of the person whose head you are holding under the water.

There now…….feeling better?

 
|| August 9, 2000 || 11:28 pm || Comments (0) ||

I just got back from Curio Emporium. If you are jealous, you DAMN WELL should be.

Sheesh, I feel strangely giddy and refreshed.

***Oh yeah, I got accepted to my first webring as well…been a banner day all ’round, my fellow campers!

 
|| July 23, 2000 || 10:15 pm || Comments (0) ||

Red wine does funny things to my senses.

I was dancing with myself on the balcony, allowing the music in my head to murmur throughout my body. I love this state of self-contained beauty, where everything just belongs to the moment. I writhe and I breathe and it is delightfully pagan. It’s easy to forget him standing over there, just outside the squares of light careening off of the french doors. It’s easy to not remember that he is as absorbed as I am, for similar and dissimilar reasons….this dichotomy is pulpy and delicious.

Life itself is in those moments between what we experience and what we choose to dismiss from recollection.

And the stories, fuck me, the stories!

 
|| July 21, 2000 || 11:23 pm || Comments (0) ||

I spit sometimes.

Never in public–eegads–, never when anyone’s around. There’s nothing like a good spit. And by the way, there’s no loogie referral in that. I’ve never loogied in my entire life (it evokes the standard, girlie “ewwww, grossss…”). Sheer saliva is what I’m speaking of. ~say that fast 50x, o ye unfettered plebes~

The Prince Righteous Dude to my Princess CoolChick HATES when I spit. He caught me doing so one spring evening and said (in that wrinkly-nosed, precious way that high society reserves for those in the poorest of taste), “Why do you DO that?”

Before I could even process the question, much less formulate and convey an answer, came this shiny little slip of an interjection: “You do it JUST LIKE a man!”

~Sideways compliment, whether or not he is aware of it~

“Whaddaya expect?” was my quick reply.

“I spent all those years hanging out at rodeos when I was a kid.”

“And My Lord, Papaw LOVED that Mid-South Wresting (Hi, Jerry Lawler, Superstar Bill Dundee and Tojo Yamamoto! Hi!)!”

Say G’nite, Gracie.

 
|| July 14, 2000 || 11:24 pm || Comments (0) ||

I am a psycho and Dirky-Wirky is a fraud. And lemons are yellow with a very tart flavor. And I would say also that taxes suck ass, but the fuckers would audit me. HOORAY for salt!