Okay, life is over as I know it.

Either that, or there is proof out there that dating services are definitely not 100%. I mean, I should've known that based on a few of the people with whom I've chatted, but this is absolute, 10000000%, incontrovertable proof.

*shudder*

According to Emodematch, UBFM and I are 100% and 96% compatible.

Stop laughing or vomiting or staring in shocked disbelief right about now. Yeesh. *shudder*
Urgh. I looked at his picture and lemme tell you, I don't have the faintest idea what the hell I was thinking. Gah!

Fuck. I had a whole bunch more here, but I deleted it. I'm too tired to be doing this (and I'll redo it tomorrow). :P

For now, before I forget:

Lessons learned from the new He-Man show: Trust is something that must be earned through actions, not just words.

Sometime today I clocked over

10,000

hits. That's fucking phenomenal, and I owe it all to you guys. Thank you very much. I promise, once I get things ironed out around here (Blogger's fault, not mine), I will post nudie pics. :)

I always forget the itchy head. Argh.

It was originally a light brown when I first applied it, but now it's a shade of purple. I'd be concerned, but... purple would be kinda cool. At least until I tried to get some company to take me seriously, and then I'd be screwed. Damn.

Another five minutes or so of this; at least I have websites to look at and good tunes on the radio. :)

Anyhow, more later. For now... the itching! Oh, gawd, the itching!

I'll make it. I'm tough.

Okay, so today. Did some writing, nothing really important. I actually did a lot of SFA today. I finished off a book (not one I needed to read for school), and didn't go to class. What did I do instead? Watched television. Sat on the computer. Had a cry for no real reason. I love my hormonal cycle. *sigh*

I actually stayed for my entire class yesterday. I don't think I've done that since about the first one for this course (CMN and International Development). We got the final exam and went through it; it looks really intimidating from the outset, but isn't so bad overall. I say no. The important thing to remember is *not* to slack off on this one, otherwise I'm seriously fucked hard, and not in a good way.

Got together last night for a drink with a new friend that I met online (see, you're finally getting mentioned!), and had fun. We talked a lot about war and politics, and I managed to hold my own in spite of really knowing absolutely nothing on the subject. We also managed to cover colognes and perfumes, drinking, my inability to remember my favourite alcohol (Baileys, bottles of which you may donate to me at your discretion), his roommates and assorted other topics I can't really think of right now. It was a good time, nice to hang out with someone in a completely different program than mine. It makes all of my complaints seem new. ;)

The last couple of days have been fairly quiet for me. I hung out with Mark Monday night (as I said before), and yesterday I found out (through the mailing list) that J's started a new job up the street from where he lives. Things seem to be really coming together for him (in an all-round sense), and it's good to see. Now here's hoping that I'm next. :)

I've had a bunch of weird dreams over the last while. I dreamt a week or so ago that Mark's elastics in the front were missing, and no one really knew how. I dreamt ages ago that I got married to someone that lived behind me (in my current house), and after we said our vows I stood at the party and looked at him and wondered what the hell I'd done. I've had tonnes of others, but I can't even begin to remember them. Most of them are inconsequential little things like having to go feed the cats and not having any food for them or something, but a few others have been fairly significant.

The cats and I hung out in the porch today, and Digger went outside a few times. I sat in the plastic lawnchair with my feet on a cardboard box, and Shadow jumped up and settled herself on me. She either got annoyed with Digger or really comfortable and happy (I can't quite recall which), and expressed her (dis)pleasure by digging her claws into my knee slightly. It wasn't that bad, but enough to get my attention and move her around.

I readjusted my feet and legs a few times as I got uncomfortable and my butt slowly went numb, and after I moved the leg she was most anchored on to a more downward position, she got fed up and jumped down to the floor... where she promptly showed how she earned her nickname (and near name Lisha, short for) Little Shit by biting Digger on the head. She's a sweetheart.

He didn't do anything, and she moved over to be closer to me so that I might protect her from his wrath, and I heard one of them growl at the other twice, a few minutes apart. I don't know who, I don't know why (if the head-biting provocation wasn't it), but after that they seemed to relax. Shadow rejoined me on my lap and stayed with me until I finished my book, at which point we all went inside, one big happy family.

My cats are strange, but they're certainly good fodder for here.

Anyhow, I'm going to try for an early bedtime tonight. I don't have to go to my English class tomorrow, so I want to get into work a bit earlier and get a few things accomplished, if I can. But first:

You asked for it....

You waited eagerly and patiently while I hemmed and hawed and never wrote anything that I felt like posting...

And now....

(*drum roll*)

It's here!

That's right! For the first time, it's Porn by a Chick!

Where can I find this, you ask?

Right here!

Thank you, and goodnight.

Television has taught me that the following parts of my body aren't good enough:

My eyes
My lips
My hair
My stomach
My arms
My thighs
My feet
My nails (toe and finger)
My skin
My glasses (okay, not quite a part of my body)
My clothing (see above)

... and the latest:
My teeth

There's an awful lot of money to be made from telling people that there is something wrong with their bodies. There's also no shortage of things to critique about people, although the market is getting rather saturated.

I've decided to create a new career for myself. I'm going to hire myself out and pay myself exorbitant rates to go and tell people what's wrong with their bodies, based on nothing more than my own personal opinion. However, I will have a specialty; I'm going to concentrate on people's earlobes. That appears to be an untapped resource.

I will roam the streets of downtown, telling passersby that none of them can have perfect earlobes without my new MiracLobe! MiracLobe will be in the form of a suppository cream that you use three times a day for six weeks, to give yourself fuller, rounder, more supple, soft and nibbleable earlobes.

MiracLobe! is not gender-specific! It doesn't matter if you're young or old, hetero, homo, bi or undecided, male or female, MiracLobe! will work for you.

MiracLobe! works by quickly infiltrating the Darwin tubercle, adding definition and colour in this hidden area, before spreading through the rest of the ear to form this after image, seen here:

Are you not envious of these beautiful earlobes? Does your significant other say that he or she has lost interest in your earlobes ever since the baby came/car accident/job stresses started adding up/the new television arrived?

Do you know why that is? It’s because your earlobes aren’t good enough anymore! In this age of youth and beauty, you’ve gotten old! How the hell could you have let that happen? Don’t you know that’s death to any relationship?!?

We’re sorry, it’s just that we here at MiracLobe! feel passionately about the beauty of your earlobes, and we care deeply about the state of your personal life. We’d like to help you win back your significant other’s interest in your earlobes, to help you to a happier, healthier relationship.

If you still aren’t convinced that MiracLobe! is the right product for you, don’t listen to us! Listen to some of our happy customers:

“I always thought that putting something up my ass three times a day was… kinda… like… y’know … gay and stuff, but I really enjoyed it! Oh yeah, and MiracLobe! really worked and stuff, and now my wife can’t keep her teeth off of my wonderfully supple earlobes. Thanks MiracLobe! -- you saved our marriage and gave me something to do when I’m watching tv.” -- Roy, from Calgary

“I love MiracLobe! Men are always commenting on my earlobes in bars and on the street, and offering to suck them. It’s been the deciding factor in me opening up my home-based escort service, and everyone gets a happy ending with MiracLobe!.” – Tanya, St. Louis

And those are just a few of the thousands of people who’ve written in to say how much MiracLobe! has helped them.

If you think that MiracLobe! can help you, send credit card number, cheque or money order for three easy payments of just $29.95, plus $10.00 shipping and handling to the address provided by our helpful staff at litterbox jen at yahoo dot c a .



…it will work for you, otherwise you’ve wasted a lot of money

Another one is up.

Oh my... this is hilarious.

As for this... be careful, it'll make you gay. :)

I stole both of those links off of Dave Barry's blog, which I also have blogrolled, so I should be all safe with my citing.

Last night, Peacock had a fit and then looked as if he died. I was depressed and concerned, 'cause after all, that would be another fishy death -- and then he got up and started swimming again, so I called him a bastard. It's pretty dark around their tanks right now, so I've lit a candle to entertain them. I think it's working.

Anyhow, nothing terribly new lately. My life is dull, and that's okay. I didn't go to my radio class last night; Ben and I hit the Outback for dinner instead and (almost) went through three loaves of bread. Whoo! We didn't finish our dessert, so that's a good sign. Or something. :)

After that, headed back to his place. I played some Luigi's Mansion and snuggled with the monkey, and Ben wrote. I turned off the game (after at least 45 minutes of solid playing), then we watched some tv and Ben chatted on the phone with his gf. We were supposed to watch episodes of Buffy, but that never happened. I left around quarter after 1 and mucked about on the computer for a bit.

I got my hair cut yesterday, and I'm not sure if I like it or not. It almost seemed as if the guy gave me a mullet, which would have *seriously* pissed me off -- I asked to have two inches taken off of my 'do, and mentioned that I'd like something light because my hair has a tendency of going flat. There was no "give me a mullet" in there -- but I've been assured by a number of people that it was not a mullet. Still not sure if I like it, though.

Gotta help out Mom, so more later. No mullets here.

A few quotes:

"There's nothing quite as satisfying as a stick in each hand, I should tell you, Jen. ;)"

"I can beat the drum many ways. ;)"

"I'm well versed in techniques for pounding the hide."

In the letters to the editor, a gentleman writes in:

"Albert Einstein's opinion of war: "He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would fully suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at oncec. Heroism at command, senseless brutality, deplorable love-of-country stance, how violently I hate all this, how despicable an ignoble war is; I would rather be turn to shreds than be part of so base an action! It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.""

The editor's comment?
"Proof that being a brilliant physicist doesn't necessarily make everything else you say sensible."

At least the editorial staff is unbiased. :P

Oh, sorry. Sarcasm meter's stuck on. Eesh.

All screwed up and nowhere to turn. :P

I don't want to go to work.

*sigh*

Some test results:
Jen, when it comes to dating, you're a Social Idealist.

You're comfortable in social situations that fluster other people. It is, in part, this ease that makes you a catch for potential partners. Since you may tend to pass over a potential love interest too quickly, the key for you is learning how to not throw away a keeper too soon.

New article up at Whore's Boudoir. This one rousted me out of bed to write itself, and I only just fought it off last night (thinking I'd get to it today, which didn't happen).

There may be a "Things that I don't understand" part two in the future. I had a few other thoughts along those lines. :)

And another quote:

[on the subject of books/authors to pick up and try out, after Ben suggests LotR and I turn up my nose]
Ben: "English literature does not begin and end with the Lord of the Rings!"
Me: "Finally! Someone who agrees with me! Who said that?"
Ben: "You did."
Me: [*pause*] "Hey, cool. I'm smart sometimes." :)

Anyhow, good times lately. Had my on-floor test with Chapters today (phase three of the interview process; the next step is the swimsuit competition), and the manager said it went well. Apparently I was the first of the chosen few to go through the process, so I'll have to wait to find out whether they set people on fire or not. If some short person who looked slightly awkward and like she was playing dress-up in an oversized black vest approached you today to ask if you needed help, I'm sorry. They made me do it.

After that, I drove over to bug Mark. I got there as his mom was unloading groceries, so I helped out with that, then went and rousted him from the basement to go help unpack -- since I don't really know where anything goes, I'm more of a hindrance than a help.

However, I was able to put the juice in the downstairs fridge, which prompted Mark to comment, as my arms were loaded full of containers, "Nice jugs." Isn't he charming?

We watched Swimfan, which was... hrm. I'm not putting it at the top of my list of favourite movies, but I'm not clamouring to ask for that portion of my life back, so it balances out. I'd recommend watching it, the actors did a good job, particularly the one who played Madison (Erika Christensen). I got fed, which is always a plus, and I had spinach for the first time. And likely the last, unless I'm fed it again as someone's guest. :) I will eat any number of foods out of politeness as someone's guest (provided they're on my "really, I really don't want/like to eat this" list), so it's given me some wider exposure than I might've otherwise had, and it's meant that I've gotten to try foods like sweet potatoes (which I like), and shrimp stirfry (which I enjoyed), but spinach... hrm. I told Mark that he has to get better soon so that he can eat my spinach for me. ;)

Actually, it was funny last time I ate over; I commented that it was a shame Mark wasn't well, 'cause then I couldn't pawn my broccoli off on him... so his mom said she didn't get as much as she should've and stole some off my plate. Y'know you've been accepted by someone's family when... :) *grin*

It's good to see the monkey with some energy. The swelling in his face is nearly gone and he's much more alert and active, which is really encouraging.

But enough about him, some more about me now. ;)

Hrm. I have nothing. And it's past time for bed. I'll come up with something more interesting later (as well as do a bunch of writing that I'm overdue .. to... do. Yeah).

Random quote: "Nice! You're good at not setting people on fire."

Aw. My drug lord profile got reset. :( No more selling weed to minors for me.

Darn. :(

"...hi, it's Jen."

I always feel somewhat fake when I introduce myself by my name. In a way, I feel more of a sense of attachment to my last name than my first, and that may be because it's so uncommon (my last name, that is).

When I give my name, I feel as if it's not really who I am, or something, that I'm only pretending to be "Jen" for now, and in reality, my name is something long and convoluted involving sixteen syllables and four silent 'q's, but that more accurately describes who the being known as me is.

When I was younger, I wanted to change my name. There were so many Jens, and I quickly grew tired of being called Jenny (always annoying when I run into old classmates from elementary years who still call me such, because I feel that they don't reflect the fact that I've grown up), and at the time my name was so common, and I wanted something different and exotic and unusual.

Sure, people who had different and exotic and unusual names had their difficulties too, but there was never any doubt as to who they were -- Jamine, Sandra, Kristen, Siobhan -- all of these girls were different and special and popular... and then there was dorky little me in the corner with my name that was shared by two other Jens at the time and later, in grade nine gym class, five other Jens -- there didn't appear to be any sort of special identity reserved for me.

But now I'm older and popularity is less of an issue and I've developed a unique(ish) identity to go with my humdrum name. I may be only a Jen, but we're a pretty popular bunch, and that's no longer such a bad thing. Now, I may be "Jen" and that may not be the easiest way to identify me (although the numbers of Jens are decreasing, at least in my circles), but I'm a lot of other things too; as Ben says, "short, blonde, kicks people." I also wear glasses. :)

I'm open, I'm honest, I have a tattoo and some interesting piercings, I can talk about any subject as comfortably as talking about my cats, I love animals and my cats in particular (and my homicidal fish!), I have a nurturing streak, I like to help out my friends but I hate being taken advantage of, I love to talk (thanks, my parents), I love to read, I play clarinet, I like to cross stitch... there's an awful lot that's gone into making this particular Jen, and it's not all that bad.

At the same time, this particular Jen needs to get dressed to head off to work (although I am on my own time somewhat, having skipped class -- another thing this particular Jen does a lot of this semester), so that's that from my shower thoughts today.

Ah, some free time in front of the 'puter. Just pounded out an article for Whore's Boudoir, so that's a bit of a load off. It's a day late and a dollar short (to steal the expression), but what the heck.

Spent the day at Mark's place today. It was a low-key afternoon; we watched some tube, had some lunch and I finished reading my book for tomorrow's class... not necessarily in that order. Had a scary moment with a sneeze and some nasal bleeding from that, but it passed and then things were okay.

Poor Mark spends the days in a pretty quiet mood, which just seems to be accentuated by the fact that he can't really speak. Conversations are held with yes or no questions, or a notepad nearby.

I didn't have to leave for my class right away, so I wound up hanging around after Mark's dad got back, which turned into me not going to my class, which turned into an invite for dinner... which was good, 'cause it learned me that I actually like shrimp. We had a shrimp stirfry and I found it quite tasty. I'm a polite dinner guest, so I wouldn't have said anything if I was served a food I vaguely disliked anyhow -- and Ben's aware of this and brought it to his parents' attention. Friends who know how to read you and who watch your back are great. :)

I had a number of great conversations with Ben's dad; before he left, we chatted about Ben and Mark and their personalities, and then after dinner we chatted about the war in Iraq, bilingualism and multiculturality in Canada, and telemarketers. Lots of fun.

Afterwards, I went downstairs and watched an episode and a half of Buffy with Ben and Mark, then their dad drove me home, which I greatly appreciated.

It wasn't much different from slugging about at home, except I got up early, spent less (read: none) time on the computer and had no cats crawling on me. So... it was somewhat different. :)

Anyhow, I'm going to try to get an email or two finished off and head off to bed. I had other things to write, but now I've forgotten them, so I guess I'll just close by saying that Mark's teaching me a lot about strength and dealing with the hand you're dealt through all of this. I know I wouldn't deal even one-tenth as well as he is, and I'm really impressed.

Wow. Not only did I get to visit my boyfriend at the children's hospital, but now I get to babysit him tomorrow, too! ;)

*snicker*

He's been upgraded to elastic status, but for anyone who has not had up-close-and-personal contact with someone who's had this type of surgery, "elastic" here is medical for "wound so fucking tight you'll *never* get your fucking mouth open." Conversations with Mark are now totally filled with illegible mumbling, instead of just occasionally. ;)

Anyhow, I was teasing him today, telling him I was going to train him like they did to the monster in Young Frankenstein. Mark at one point made some grunting noise that reminded me of the monster, so I, feeling like a brat, started singing the song "Puttin' on the Ritz", in the same manner it appears in the movie (if you haven't seen the movie, this won't be funny... I highly recommend the film, it has some of the best movie lines every): "If you're blue and you don't know/where to go to/why don't you go/where fashion sits..." and here the monster chimes in (and I did it to the best of my abilities): "Puttin' on the Ritz!"

Now, what's funny about this (here I ruin the joke when I try to explain it), is the way in which the monster's line must be said. When I did this part, Mark and I both lost it. Of course, he can't quite laugh right now, so that set me off even more (there was much spillage of drool on someone's part, and I won't say who). Ben thought it was funny, too. :)

The group interview went well, I think. A few people broke taboos that I normally would think shouldn't be crossed in interviews -- swearing, wearing jeans, having one's cell phone ring (even if you don't answer it) -- and I was fortunate enough not to be any of those people, so here's hoping. *shrug* The pay's not great, so if it doesn't pan out, that gives me more incentive to look for something full-time, but... it'd be a pretty fun gig to work for awhile.

Digger has given me permission to write for another minute or two. I feel bad that I've missed my CMN and International Development class two weeks' running. The prof was supposed to give out the exam tonight; at least, she said so ages ago. I might fire off an email to her tomorrow and explain my absence.

Hrm. Looks like Digger was lying when he said I had more time. He's currently engaged in abusing (yes, beating up) my garbage. The snow in the backyard can't melt soon enough; he's getting so restless. :P

As I have to get up early tomorrow for this babysitting gig, I'm off to bed. I'll write more then, including the article that's percolating in my head for the Whore's Boudoir. Apparently there are serious design issues there I must fix, which I was not aware of because I use IE (and can't install Mozilla, so get off my back!). *grumble*

Oh yeah, the other thing I forgot. My mom went and joined a gym tonight, and the girl who took her around was a girl that I was friends with back in kindergarden and grade one -- she lived down the street from me, and we used to play together and go to Brownies together. Anyhow, as soon as she saw the last name, she asked my mom if she had a daughter named Jen, and faith and begorrah!, 'twas the right person (of course, there being literally about 10 people in Canada with my last name, it was pretty given). Anyhow, this girl passed along her number to my mom and seems right psyched about getting together with me. Neat, eh?

This city is damn small. My neighbourhood, if you stay in it, sure gets a lot of people returning to check it out and say hi again -- it isn't the first time someone I knew from elementary school returned to see if the original folks were still about.

Sometimes it's good that this city is small -- I ran into four different people I knew downtown and at the movie theatre when Ben and I were about. Other times, I wish I could be someplace where nearly every street corner has a memory of some form attached to it. Urgh.

Yay! My attempt has been posted at Bad Samaritan. Help me out by going there and commenting on the post -- hopefully positively. :)

I get political for once:

A Letter to George W. Bush on the Eve of War

By Michael Moore, MichaelMoore.com
March 17, 2003

George W. Bush
1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
Washington, DC


Dear Governor Bush:

So today is what you call "the moment of truth," the day that "France and the rest of world have to show their cards on the table." I'm glad to hear that this day has finally arrived. Because, I gotta tell ya, having survived 440 days of your lying and conniving, I wasn't sure if I could take much more. So I'm glad to hear that today is Truth Day, 'cause I got a few truths I would like to share with you:

1. There is virtually no one in America (talk radio nutters and Fox News aside) who is gung-ho to go to war. Trust me on this one. Walk out of the White House and on to any street in America and try to find five people who are passionate about wanting to kill Iraqis. You won't find them! Why? 'Cause no Iraqis have ever come here and killed any of us! No Iraqi has even threatened to do that. You see, this is how we average Americans think: If a certain so-and-so is not perceived as a threat to our lives, then, believe it or not, we don't want to kill him! Funny how that works!

2. The majority of Americans – the ones who never elected you – are not fooled by your weapons of mass distraction. We know what the real issues are that affect our daily lives – and none of them begin with I or end in Q. Here's what threatens us: Two and a half million jobs lost since you took office, the stock market having become a cruel joke, no one knowing if their retirement funds are going to be there, gas now costs almost two dollars – the list goes on and on. Bombing Iraq will not make any of this go away. Only you need to go away for things to improve.

3. As Bill Maher said last week, how bad do you have to suck to lose a popularity contest with Saddam Hussein? The whole world is against you, Mr. Bush. Count your fellow Americans among them.

4. The Pope has said this war is wrong, that it is a Sin. The Pope! But even worse, the Dixie Chicks have now come out against you! How bad does it have to get before you realize that you are an army of one on this war? Of course, this is a war you personally won't have to fight. Just like when you went AWOL while the poor were shipped to Vietnam in your place.

5. Of the 535 members of Congress, only one (Sen. Johnson of South Dakota) has an enlisted son or daughter in the armed forces! If you really want to stand up for America, please send your twin daughters over to Kuwait right now and let them don their chemical warfare suits. And let's see every member of Congress with a child of military age also sacrifice their kids for this war effort. What's that you say? You don't think so? Well, hey, guess what – we don't think so either!

6. Finally, we love France. Yes, they have pulled some royal screw-ups. Yes, some of them can be pretty damn annoying. But have you forgotten we wouldn't even have this country known as America if it weren't for the French? That it was their help in the Revolutionary War that won it for us? That our greatest thinkers and founding fathers – Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin, etc. – spent many years in Paris where they refined the concepts that lead to our Declaration of Independence and our Constitution? That it was France who gave us our Statue of Liberty, a Frenchman who built the Chevrolet, and a pair of French brothers who invented the movies? And now they are doing what only a good friend can do – tell you the truth about yourself, straight, no b.s. Quit pissing on the French and thank them for getting it right for once. You know, you really should have traveled more (like once) before you took over. Your ignorance of the world has not only made you look stupid, it has painted you into a corner you can't get out of.

Well, cheer up – there is good news. If you do go through with this war, more than likely it will be over soon because I'm guessing there aren't a lot of Iraqis willing to lay down their lives to protect Saddam Hussein. After you "win" the war, you will enjoy a huge bump in the popularity polls as everyone loves a winner – and who doesn't like to see a good ass-whoopin' every now and then (especially when it 's some third world ass!). So try your best to ride this victory all the way to next year's election. Of course, that's still a long ways away, so we'll all get to have a good hardy-har-har while we watch the economy sink even further down the toilet!

But, hey, who knows – maybe you'll find Osama a few days before the election! See, start thinking like that! Keep hope alive! Kill Iraqis – they got our oil!!

Yours,
Michael Moore

*drum roll* Well, I have the group interview tonight. Nice. :)

As well, just got myself taken off the potential interviewees list for another job that I got an email about last night; I don't have full-time access to a car. That, combined with what I remember of the job (applied to on that day of infamy, with the 4 billion cover letters), means that it was likely selling insurance, which is not what I'd like to do as a full-time job. No worries, moving on.

The more I think about the possible job that Ben and Mark's mom was talking about, the more I get psyched about it. As scary as it would be to leave behind all that I know now and all that I could possibly do, I can't limit myself based on how much I enjoy where I am now. It would, however, be wonderful to leave behind all the stupidity and crap and lies. But I'll likely run into that anywhere, no? Ah well.

Haven't gotten to talk to the monkey since Sunday night, which sucks. Last night I was talking of going over to poke at him, but Ben and I wound up going out to see Old School -- my treat, which meant it was free, including snacks and such. I was seriously upset and stressed by crap going on with my folks and finances, so getting to go out for awhile and watch a dumb movie (I'm sorry, it wasn't that great), and chat was nice. It was good to get my mind off things, and I felt much better once I got home.

The only money I spent yesterday was $4.25 on a pair of shoes from Zellers, 'cause my shoes were killing my feet and I want to wear them tonight for the interview. Otherwise, we did the book store browsing, the expensive tech toy browsing, and both of us kept our wallets in our pockets. Good sign. :)

So yeah, it's been a quiet few days. Worked on Sunday, went over to bug Mark and wound up staying up late chatting with Ben. Yesterday was work and the movie, and now we're here at today, and they day hasn't really yet begun.

I realized last night that the reason my stomach went into insane cramping pain when I went to bed was because all I'd had to eat all day was a bagel for breakfast, some of Ben's noodles (along with dessert, I'm bad) and a monster bag of popcorn. There be no real meals in that mess, and I hadn't even really realized that I hadn't really eaten all day. See what happens when I don't buy my food downtown? Eesh.

I'm still feeling a bit yuck today, but I made sure I ate breakfast first thing, and I'm going to pack a lunch to bring with me when I head off to work. Anyhow, gotta get moving on the day. I'll post more later.

Well, since neither Angus nor gord have posted anything about last night's adventure, I feel free to write whatever the hell I want about.

The names are real, the quotes are real, the rest... well, you'll see.

The evening began with us assembling at my work (true) and throwing garbarge at my passing coworkers as they left the buillding. I actually managed to peg a few random strangers, as I have the crazy madness throwing arm, but I was actually aiming for Angus. No matter.

From there, we wandered off to try to accost a hooker, but she wouldn't take our money, no matter how much we offered. 'Twas a shame, but after we left, I saw her walk into Hooters, so maybe she wasn't a hooker, it's hard to tell.

It was while we were standing on the corner, waiting for the light to turn green that gord announced, completely out of the blue, "I look good in jogging pants!" (also true). I'm very serious when I say that this was a complete non sequitur, and it led to ridicule. Sorry gord. :)

Angus looked over and noticed that yes, indeed, gord did look good in jogging pants. In spite of the fact that his girlfriend was standing right there, Angus decided that now would be a good time to find out what gord kissed like when he was sober. So he reached over, grabbed gord by the ass and hauled gord to him, then planted a seriously hot kiss on him. I needed some time to myself once we reached the club, let me tell you.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention, we were on our way to the gay bar down the street. I continue.

After the ten-minute long make-out session on the corner of the busy intersection, Jenn and I had managed to collect $29, a breath mint and four condoms (one glow-in-the-dark, two flavoured, and a used one, which we didn't actually take) for this little piece of street theatre. This was more than enough money (and accessories) to make us very popular girls at the club. Not that we needed the help; we're both gorgeous. But it seems as if once you have a drink in front of you, people want to buy you more -- perhaps they believe that since you're willing to drink, perhaps they can get you liquored up on drinks and take advantage of you?

Well, this is precisely what I did to Jenn. I bought her round after round of straight tequila with the money we made (and that which I lifted from Angus' wallet, "Shh, Angus might hear you!"), and then I led her off to a darkened corner.

"Is this botany or is this cunnilingus?"

After she and I had washed up and straightened out our clothes (not to mention purchased the film rights to all the footage of our little rendez-vous), we went to go and find gord and Angus. gord was trying to get Angus to put his clothes back on (when Angus drinks, he winds up naked, true story!), and Angus asked gord plaintively, "Is there something wrong with my THROBBING COCK?" I told Angus, "I don't think he likes it up the ass." Angus pouted for the rest of the night.

On the way home, we explained to a drunk gord that when one was dead, one couldn't have sex anymore. The best thing to do was to spend as much of your life as you possibly could having crazy sex (but being safe about it!), and not doing anything too stupid to end your own life too soon. Reflecting on the idea of no sex after death (especially after we threatened to style his hair into an Elvis-style pompadour so he'd go to Heaven looking like that, then hold seances to make fun of him), gord said, "Wow, that sure takes the fun out of suicide." We told him to just wait for his time, and then he could have fun after death. :)

So that was Friday night. Today I got up to take the car in for a workover (free, offered by the dealership), then drove out the hospital to see Mark. I ran into his folks while there, which was good 'cause I didn't really know the layout of the hospital. I had his room number, but no real idea of its location. We went up to his room and they left me with him, and I chatted with him for a bit. I was surprised at how much he was able to talk, as were his folks when I told them afterwards. :)

He was pretty zonked, so after visiting for about a half hour or so, I headed down to where his parents were waiting and wound up chatting with them for about three times as long as I'd spent with him. It was really fun; we talked needlework and career paths and the differences between the three boys in their family... good times. I really like his folks, and as a sign that they really do seem to like me -- his mom is going to look up some names at the RCMP and put me in touch with some people so that I can perhaps apply for a job that would utilize my uni degree. Not bad. :)

Around 2, I headed home to get some lunch (after saying another goodbye to the invalid). I picked up a few flicks for my folks, then came home and ironed out the rest of the plans. Vegged on the couch for awhile, got pinned by cats while I napped, then got up to go and get Ben. We grabbed some dinner and headed back to the hospital. Saw Mark's folks again, got to see him again all dopey and such, then I dropped Ben off at home and came home.

While I was at Ben's the first time, I was trying to play with Fidget, the hamster (she has a name!). She was napping in the litterbox, and I reached in to poke at her in an attempt to wake her up to come out. Well, she rolled over on her side slightly and lifted a front leg; I couldn't figure out if this was Fidget-speak for "I'm going to chew your fucking finger off if you poke me again," or "Rub my belly please!" I went with the second and I still possess all ten digits, so I must've been right. She repeated the behaviour after I stopped rubbing at one point. I think she just has some cat to her. :)

Speaking once again of the cats (and when don't I?), Digger has turned into a snuggle whore. Or at least he did for a brief period of time this evening. I was lying on the loveseat again (where this afternoon's rest and pinnage occured), and when I decided to stretch out, Digger took this as an invitation to join me on the square millimeter of space that remained. If he were Shadow, that wouldn't have mattered; she likes the topography that is my body for her naps. However, Digger has never been a lap cat; he prefers to merely use appendages as pillows.

No matter. He jumped up and settled in by my side for a nice long scratch and pat, which eventually turned into a settle down and cuddle. It was quite sweet; I may make a lap cat of him yet.

Anyhow, what else that I've likely mentioned a billion times and completely forgotten? Well, people have been poking fun at poor Mark's expense. His parents told him, as he was settling into the bed yesterday prior to the surgery, that his head was going to be shaved for the procedure. He was rather freaked out at this, and they played it along for a bit accordingly. This evening, on my third trip through, I told him that he had a patch of hair missing from the back of his head, but it wasn't noticeable. Perhaps the drugs were increasing his gullibility, but he believed me for a bit. Kinda funny.

Nonetheless, he appears to have retained or regained his sense of humour; not only was he making jokes himself, but at one point, in order to illustrate some point or another that escapes my brain at the moment, he reached over and molested me. Ben thought it was hilarious, and I laughed as well, but I also warned him he might not want to do that again, as it might make things uncomfortable to him -- at which point he promptly reached over to do it again. *roll* What a goon. :)

Anyhow, I'm just going to wrap by saying that everyone is off my Christmas card list tonight. There were no "get well soon" or "do well!" messages left for the poor monkey on my site, and no one wished Big A a belated happy birthday. *sticks nose in air* Well!

Hrm. S'okay. Most of you don't know them anyhow, so I suppose I can be accomodating this time. Maybe.

*grr*

"What's wrong with my THROBBING COCK?!"