...Chicago and I know I'm home because when I walked in the door, there were two kids and their dog running at me, happy that I was there. I've had a hideous time, except for a few days I spent with my daughter but it's going to turn out to be a good thing that I went. I'll explain all of that later, along with the 18 year old who was holding my hand when I woke up this morning, but not right now.
I just spent two days on a train and I feel likeI spent the time in the trunk of an old Volkswagen Beetle. I need a shower and I need time to empty my brain at least once before I can begin to take in all of the things that happened to me over the past few weeks.
I apologize but if I tried to explain anything right now, I would write it in as disjointed a fashion as I'm thinking in right now. I'm tired, I stink and I'm at a critical point in a book I'm reading. So, let me bathe, clear my head and read a bit before I tell you all about the fantastic travels of me.
I've been taking notes all the way from Chi-Town to So-Cal so I have more than enough material to keep you guys snickering for a long, long, long time. You know me, everything that happens turns out funny before I'm finished with it.
For instance...Tuesday night in Omaha Nebraska, some lunatic with a chip on his shoulder and a serious attitude problem got on the bus. I got on after him so I didn't see what started him off but he was talking about how some "Caucasian looking fool" started telling him to "watch his language". Well, that didn't help matters one little bit. He not only didn't stop being a jack ass, he began doing his jack ass-itiness in rap.
I'm a big black man with and attitude problem No Caucasian gonna get me even if he has a gun Don't tell me that a Caucasian female can't be hit I'll hit her once and then hit her twice Bitch tell me she gonna be nice Ain't no nice in me, I'm as cold as ice White bitch gonna shiver when I kill her twice
I didn't understand a bit of that but to make a long story short, the dude clocked me in the head with a suitcase. So...I am BACK in the hospital because I can't turn my neck. This is getting interesting!
Why was there and angry black man on the bus? I don't know. I had left the bus to "hit the head" and when I got back, there was the Evil Rapper on the bus behind me. He was going on and on about his threats and I finally decided to go let the driver know that there was gonna be trouble if they left the dude on the bus. So, the driver came on the bus and shouted, "What did I tell you? I told you to act like a gentlemen!" I don't know why a bus driver would tell a drunk to act like a gentlemen...even if he heard him, he would have forgotten within 2 minutes. Anyway, not only did they kick him off the bus, they sent him back on the buy to get his stuff after the dude knew that I was the one who ratted him out. AND...they sent him back on the bus without security to protect the women, children and skinny white men who were already on the bus.
That meant that he was gonna start harassing me and he really, really did!
He didn't like that I was smiling at him and I don't think I was...not that it mattered...we Americans are allowed to smiled. So, Rapper Dude started rapping a rap all for me and let me tell you...it was not at all a pleasant Will Smith type rap. Nope, he was mean that time.
Then I heard him say, "Watch this!"
Call me kookie...but I didn't want to 'watch' anything that dude was gonna do. So, I just sat there and stared straight ahead until I felt the pain. I now know it was a suitcase bouncing off of my head and landing on the floor.
I quickly considered my options, elbow him in the gut, fingernail him in the eyeball, knee him in the groin or punch him in the face. Then it occurred to me, he was drunk and that made him a weak target and in TaeKwon Do, we're taught not to take advantage of the weakling. I wanted to, but I decided instead to walk off the bus and let the driver handle it. Oh, Opie the security guard was there to hold his gun...I guess it was to make him look cool, lord knows he didn't pull it out.
Anyway, at first I just wanted to get away from that situation because of all the people who were supposed to be protecting me, none of them did. So, I jumped off the bus and let them get the bum off of the bus. Then, once I got back on the bus, within an hour, my face went numb and my neck wouldn't move either way. When we got to Ogalloolloola (or something like that) Nebraska, the bus driver called an ambulance. They took me to a hospital in Greeley Co. and i stayed there for a couple of days.
My neck still won't move but I have a new story to tell! I'll tell you more when my pain meds kick in. BTW...I should mention that I am currently in Cedar's Sinai Hospital because the pain has gotten unbearable. I'm still waiting for the fun to kick in!
...I'm having a hard time sleeping. The loss of my dog isn't helping, but I was already having problems trying to sleep before that. I'm not sure why but it's been a sleepless summer. I've been trying to go to bed early, which is cool because I like to wake up early but lately I've been waking up at midnight or 1 AM which is far too early, even for me.
As if it's not hard enough to sleep, my friend sleeps in the next room with the TV on all night. That wouldn't ordinarily bother me but it seems as though she's found the 24 hour Fran Drescher channel and that's making me insane. Lack of sleep, the loss of my dog and a hideous headache that won't go away until the blood from my last brain bleed has been absorbed is one thing, but that grating voice is more than I can take.
I should have already left for my most recent escapade but I procrastinated far too long. I couldn't be sorrier as if I had left, I'd still have Payton. But, I think I'm going to leave today. I can't hang around here right now...everything I see reminds me of my dog. When I DO fall asleep, every time I wake up I remember that he's gone and I feel that little stab in my heart all over again. I'm sure that my friend will understand my relatively quick exit...she's been my friend for longer than I care to say and we've been through a LOT over the decades.
One thing we haven't been through is sex...we aren't gay. (Ordinarily this is where I would say, "Not that there's anything wrong with that!" but I'm in such a foul mood that I don't feel like apologizing for that...AGAIN.) We've often heard that people assume that we're gay but most people don't say it to our faces. But, the last time I went to the emergency room, I overheard the ambulance dude tell the nurse that we were "life partners". I was stunned.
Even with my brain all cloudy, I knew what he meant and I had to push through the clouds to tell them that he was wrong. If I were gay, I wouldn't call my gay buddy a "life partner" anymore than I'd call the Sears Tower it's latest moniker, the Willis Tower. I hate change.
The ambulance guy's name is Dale Roerhig and he was wondering if I would be writing a chapter about him before I finish my book. I'll probably mention him...but only as it relates to what he told the nurse at the hospital. I'm not quite sure what it was but it translated into, "Dale wasn't impressed." with my condition. Isn't that sweet?
Anyway, I think I've spent my last sleepless evening in Elgin and before the day is over I should be at least 3 states away. I'll be back...I'm just leaving to see someone special and if I'm lucky, I'll see my kids as well. I hope to make a huge American square but I also hope to win the lottery.
By the way, I was on Facebook the other day and I read something interesting...my daughter got married. That's two married kids and one attorney kid. I'm about to have another grandchild...my guess is that it'll be a girl. Including steps, that'll be 5 of them. I adore them all and I can't wait for the latest to pop out. You never know which one will be the one to make you feel good when you're feeling down. I was speaking to my grand-daughter the other day and when I asked her to put her brother on, he was his usual self...he hates talking on the phone. After he was forced to say hi to Grandma, I spoke to my daughter-in-law's oldest son, Brandon. Before he hung up, that little sweetheart said, "I'm sorry that Campbell didn't want to talk to you." He's just a wee munchkin yet he had the thoughtfulness to know that my feelings would be hurt when Campbell didn't want to talk to me. Isn't that amazing?
Well, I think I should get back to packing. I still need to tell The Nanny fanny that I'm taking off for a while today. Have a good one!
Wendy in Houston is a hoot. She sent me this and said it reminded her of an old post I wrote. I THINK I know just what she meant:
When I stop laughing, I'll grab the post and put it up here.
Grab THE pussy hair post? Hell, I searched Pussy hairs and I can't count the suckers! I never realized how preoccupied I've been with pubic hair! OK then, get ready...here I go:
...you guys have got to help me. When I was married, my pubic hair wasn't ever much of an issue. Of course, there was the occasional hair that Rick hacked up after browsing around downtown. But other than that, I've never had a problem with it. The only shaving I did was the little bikini shave that we HAVE to do so that we don't hear, "Look! She has a furry bikini!"
A few years ago I mentioned pubic hair on this blog and I heard from people who were actually aghast that I had a full bush. They suggested that I shave it right away but I wasn't having much sex then so I didn't worry too much about it and I hate the road rash you get after shaving that tender spot, hence, I still have my pubic hair.
I've encountered a few men who trim their own hair, I guess it's for my sake. So, I think I can safely say that pubic hair is out and bald pussy's are in. There's one problem with that...I hate shaving my legs, why would I want to add to my shaving list at my age?
Had I never divorced, this problem would have never come up. But, divorced I am and hairy I remain.
This evening, out of nowhere, my own daughter told me that I should shave down there. She said, "Men don't like it!" Well, I've never heard that from a man. Not once has a dude gotten up, crammed his hard-on into his pants, zipped up and walked out of the room disgusted by my pubes.
I also worry that if I go to bed with a guy for the first time and I'm all shaved, he might think I'm promiscuous. Whether or not I am isn't the point, I don't want people to think it.
So, PLEASE...tell me what to do. I'll be taking a shower later and I need to know where to stop when I take out my razor.
Pubes and lubes
I overheard a chick...
...talking about her friend who, after a divorce, constantly complained about her cheating husband's pecker. Apparently, it was short and fat and absolutely hell to work with.
On the one hand, I was thinking about the stuff that I said about Rick's wanger when we separated. The sentence that I remember most is, "His penis is not only twisted, the head is smaller than the shaft. It looks kind of like a pencil with a worn out eraser." I guess I can relate to the wife in the story, I knew why she was discussing her hubby's short, fat ding dong.
But, one the other hand, I was thinking, "That MUST have been a bitch to get in!" And one thought led to another until I was at the point where I was thinking about the guys who I have to help out. If they're having trouble getting on the ride, I'll let them try it alone for a minute and then I'll just help out. Lord knows I'm not going anywhere until it's over and I'm a busy person.
It shouldn't be that tough if you understand all the working parts down there. But guys who don't even part your hair are just asking for trouble. I don't understand them. They wouldn't drive their car through a bush yet they'll take Mr. Happy and try to shove it through a dense little bush downtown. What the HELL is up with that?
If the problem is a lack of lubrication, I usually just let him figure that one out for himself. If he doesn't get that, then he probably won't get in because once I realize that a guy is trying to dry hump me, I'm so turned off that it's not gonna happen anyway. That's a shoulder tapping time if ever I saw one.
The guys that I help tend to be the ones who have done everything right but for some reason, the thunder down under has a loose nut or something because no matter how hard it gets, it's still very loose at the joint where it attaches to the change purse. That's not the guys fault anymore than my ex's mutant penis is his fault. So, what the hey, I'll help a guy out under those circumstances.
The only problem with it is, I don't want the guy to think that I am either:
A. Usurping his role.
B. Playing with myself while I'm down there helping him slide that bad boy in.
Unless a guy is microscopic (Like one guy who was so small that I had to walk away from him. Not that I wouldn't do him, but I couldn't stop laughing.), he probably will have a bit of a time knocking on heaven's door because of a resident doctor who did an episiotomy repair with a "few extra stitches". Chicks in New York are paying a LOT of money to have done what that guy did to me after I had my daughter. That short and fat prick would never get in, I wouldn't even try.
You know what I find amusing? The next time you're having the slightest bit of trouble getting a dick in a pussy, you will think of me and it will annoy the hell out of you.
I didn't wake up thinking...
..."Oh! I must write about pubic hair today!" But, after reading a comment someone wrote after reading my post Pubes and Lubes, I couldn't get pubic hair out of my mind.
I don't want pubic hair stuck in my mind any more than I want it stuck in my throat so let me get this pube stuff off of my chest.
This is the comment that I received after I mentioned my own pubic hair:
"No Meg NO! It is all wrong!!! Organize a shave party with your next lover......It is a fun thing to do and mind blowing for both ADULT parties involved.OK, if you don't want to shave clean, at least trim it low......Man Meg, hair down there is just yuck! Plus it gets in the way"
You know, I've been around for a long time and I can't always keep up with all of the new styles. Heck, the pants that I'm wearing have elastic at the top! How can I be expected to keep up with the latest pubic hair fads? Even if I had the time, I wouldn't know where to find out what the latest pube hair styles are. Is there a pube web site? Is there a magazine about how the in-crowd wear their pubes? Does Avon have a product for pubic hair? The last time I was in a hair salon, I looked at the style books and not one of them mentioned pubic hair. And none of the clients were in stirrups, they were all sitting straight up in the chairs.
And then there's the "shave party" thing. Is that another fad that I've missed out on? Am I supposed to have scissors, a razor blade and shaving cream next to me when I get my hands on a guy? If so, please tell me because it would be AWFUL to think that my men friends come over here and look around for things like that. Can you imagine how foolish I feel?
I would hate to think that guys are creeping out when they realize that I actually have pubes. Of course, a horny dude isn't going to run away from a piece of ass because they have encountered pubic hair so they would never say anything like, "Ick! PUBES!" Not one guy has ever asked me what was up with all the hair down there. Not that I have Rapunzel-like pubic hair...but I do have SOME.
And speaking of the "Shave Party", I suppose it could be "fun" if you made it fun. I could send out invitations and serve hors d'oeuvre. But "mind blowing"? How would you make such a party mind blowing? The only way I could think of is to serve purple microdot or some other form of LSD. That would bring up 2 other problems. First of all, I don't do chemicals and secondly I wouldn't even know where to buy LSD. And the person who wrote the comment went out of their way to emphasize "ADULTS". What if I wanted to do a totally immature guy? I seem to exclusively date immature guys. Could you ask one of THEM to a "Shave Party"?
I'm not familiar with the pubic styles that I have to choose from but apparently you can go "clean" or just get a "trim". I've done the bald pussy thing before and let me tell you, there's not much more uncomfortable than an early morning pussy shadow. Once those little fuckers start growing back they bug the heck out of a female. Nobody wants to date a person who is constantly itching their crotch...God knows what could be crawling around there. I would have to start shaving daily and besides brushing my teeth, there's nothing at all that I want to do every single day.
So, that leaves me with a "trim". And you know what happens when you start to trim things...it looks uneven and then you try to fix it and before you know it, you're bald anyway.
I sort of think that I would rather have cornrolls. But most men probably don't know how to do that. And of course, what guy is going to play with pussy hair for such a long time? You can call it a party if you want. But even if I served fava beans and a nice chianti I don't know any guy who would want to spend that much time playing around down there without wanting to do more than twist pubic hairs into cornrolls. Braids, maybe. But I don't have rubber bands small enough to secure pubic hair braids.
And it never occurred to me that my pubes were actually "in the way". I usally date men strong enough to move that stuff. So far none of them have ever said, "Um...Meg...could you move some of that hair out of the way? I can't seem to get my dick past it." Of course, maybe the person who wrote the comment is a chick and she has so much hair down there that guys just get lost in her bush...but it hasn't really been a problem for me.
Also, I bathe routinely so it's not really a huge "YUCK" for me. But once again, who knows what sort of hygeine practices the comment chick has? I don't even know how long you would have to go without showering for your pubic hair to get yucky...and...I don't want to know.
On top of ALL of that...I hate shaving my legs and pits, I don't want to add another plot to mow.
I am curious about something else too...do you have to have a party every single time you shave that sucker or is it a one time only thing? I do love a party and I like to come up with reasons to have parties but how many times would people want to come to a party celebrating the same thing?
I guess I'm a bit of a freak and I'm just going to have to get used to it. I don't pluck my eyebrows and other women thought that was odd. Now I find out that I'm supposed to be shaving my pubes. Damn.
I was just getting my confidence back after my divorce and now I learn that my pubes aren't supposed to be there. That's one more stupid thing to worry about when I go out on a date. I don't know how I can enjoy a man's company for the entire evening while worrying about whether or not I should have shaved my pubes.
One more question...do the guys shave their pubes too? If so, my fuckbuddy is as freaky as I am. Maybe that's why we get along so well, we're just two yahoos with pubic hair.
This came up in my pussy hair search and I thought I'd toss it in here: I remember when The Natural Look...
...was what we women spent our hard earned money to strive for. I spent a lot of time primping so that I would look like I just jumped out of bed all primped up. If I really woke up looking like that I wouldn't have bothered, but alas, I do not look my best in the mornings. Most mornings I write to you looking pretty damned frightening.
And...I have perfume. If I smelled like Obsession I wouldn't spray any on me. I wonder if our natural smell was all perfumy...would we eventually start to spray on body odors so that you would KNOW that we showered?
That made no sense and I am aware of that fact. But...that's the very situation that we seem to have now. Of course, we don't smell like perfume, but most of us are pretty clean and don't smell like body odor either. So...since we silly females have gone and cleaned ourselves so well, we have to remind men of what we really smell like. For that reason, I introduce Vulva to you...a new perfume that is...exactly what you think it is:
I was going to post the link to the ad but it's pretty hard core so if you want to, you can just look it up yourself. And I am not pulling one of those stupid jokes where I have everyone taking their cars to be fixed because of a muffler virus...you really will find a perfume that smells like funky female coochie.
It doesn't say it smells like a "funky female" but what other kind of woman goes around smelling like...pussy? Only a truly funked up woman would make anyone standing next to her say, "Oh my...what is that...oh my...God...it's...pussy!" And then you have those cologne whores who wear so much that they can stink up an entire office, bus or restaurant. I don't want to eat my Grand Slam next to some bitch who follows any fishy fad that comes along.
That explains a few things. I was thinking that my ex could have done more to keep himself odor free but perhaps it was just a gift from one of his mistresses...."Taint for Men...The cologne that will remind her of the 69 you guys did last week".
That's all I need. I'm telling you right now, the next dude I do is gonna be one clean mother fucker. I don't want anymore 69 surprises.
You know, you get quite a view from down there. And once you're really into it...it's kinda awkward to get out of in a hurry. You could open your eyes and see a tiny piece of man shit all dried up and hanging from an ass hair...how do you get out of there in a hurry?
I guess that's the price we women pay for our struggle to stay on the bottom. I am so into the bottom that I once dumped a guy with a bad back because I couldn't imagine a future with a dude who HAD to be on the bottom. There is no future in that...I don't mind an occasional trip up top, but I don't have the energy to take over the top spot in the lovemaking department on a permanent basis.
Oh well. I think I need a shower...but I'm wondering, like my fingernails, should I just take advantage of what God has blessed me with and go au naturale? Unfortunately, long, stringy, oily hair isn't in yet. I think dudes can get away with it but chicks can't.
I'm positive that my ex didn't know about that pussy perfume. If he had I'm quite sure that I would have heard this, "A guy at work brought some of that new pussy perfume in to show us and he sprayed some at my face...I swear!"
I would LOVE to hear from the first wife out there who DOES get that excuse from a husband who comes from "work" without washing his face. (If you DO hear, "I was walking through Nordstrom's and the perfume lady attacked me with her pussy spray!"...please email me. I want to write a book about your husband.)
Oops...I have to answer the door. BRB.
OK, I'm back. I was half expecting the Avon lady to come by and try to sell me a knock off on pussy spray. OMG! It just occurred to me that some company will come up with a cheap, imitation pussy perfume that Walgreen's will sell along side of the real pussy perfume. The only thing worse than pussy perfume has got to be cheap, imitation pussy perfume.
I'm working on my own idea...Crotch for Men. I'll market it in San Francisco first and if it goes over, I'll take it national. Then, I'll finish my other project, a unisex perfume for men OR women called Ass in an Atomizer. I've had to put that product on the back burner for now because the atomizer's cost more than the Ass. Once I get some start-up capital, I'll get it on the shelves.
I am selling stock so if any of you want to buy a few shares of my company, Funky People Fragrances Inc., just let me know.
One thing that keeps me...
...from writing more than I do is that other people are freaking me out over it and they aren't even people in my life. How stupid is that? I mustn't let that happen anymore. I do THINK about stuff, I even write some things down if I can find a pen before I forget what I was thinking of. Last night something occurred to me...like a bolt of lightning or the Big Bang, and it sent me scrambling for a pen. It was the answer to the life-riddle, To Shave A Bush or To Not Shave A Bush.
Obviously, the answer is no. I heard the term "beefy red pussy" and that did it. If there's one thing I never want my pussy called, it's "beefy". I haven't had any complaints about the status quo although I think I reached a thoughtful compromise by offering to use any pussy rakes that might be on the market. If one appears, I get a LOT of the money, right? If loose hairs and gagging is a problem, there's no reason to go into overkill to the point of "beefy red". I think I'd rather be Butch Bitch than beefy red...no, I'm sure of it. I have even stopped wearing flannel shirts...they aren't as cute on me as they were when I was 17.
Everyone has always assumed my best friend and I wear either sisters or lesbians. We knew about the sister thing, a lot of people would ask. But they never asked if we were gay although they must have thought it. Neither of us were aware of that thinking for years. Some mutual friend finally said something. We aren't gay, never have been gay and unless she grows a real dick, we shan't be turning gay. Of course, never say never. Actually, she isn't even my gay type. I guess I just "don't like her that way". I haven't met my gay type, yet, mind you. But like I said, you should never say never.
But I am pretty damn sure that I won't run out of humans with dicks in my lifetime so I'll just let the lesbian crap go. Speaking of humans with dicks, I could use one. I keep having sex dreams and they're even more disappointing than the dreams where I win the lottery but wake up before I get the money. Women don't have wet dreams, they have incomplete dreams. Those are hideous. And the bad part is that I never seem to be close enough to a human with a dick to latch onto.
You realize that all of the preceding chit chat was just funny to me...right?
OMG Wendy, what have you done to me? I MUST find a state that allows me to smoke weed legally. I can't write this shit without it! Someone needs to get me a bag-O-greenery and soon. And I give, if you want more of my pussy stuff, just go to the top left hand corner of this bad boy and search it out yourself. I give.
For John and other boob men, lest they think I forgot about them, and at the risk of hearing "Silver dollar nipples!!!" again...here:
...on another adventure. I have a general direction in mind but otherwise, I'm not sure where I'll end up. I just know that I'm getting itchy feet and I need to travel. I started out for Tahiti last time and got as far as Los Angeles. I don't know when I'll start, I just know it won't be right now, this moment.
I have to wait for the right opportunity and then I'm off. I can't wait until it gets too cold because after freezing my ass off in LA last winter, I think I've figured out that I hate cold. Chicago in the summer has taught me that I hate hot, odd how that worked out, isn't it? I also hate mosquito bites and I'm full of those suckers. I can't count them anymore, I just scratch limbs and this one spot on my back that is about the only spot I can't reach. I broke my left arm and for some reason I can reach higher up my back with that arm than I can with my right arm. I always said that there wasn't a spot on my own back that I couldn't reach. Well, I was wrong, some evil skeeter found the ONE SPOT that I can't reach. I think I'll have to wear armor there from now on...at least until I find a place that doesn't have as many bugs.
I've always hated bugs...I should have thought about that before I married Rick. He's a nasty bug and scratching won't make him leave me alone. (By the way dude, YES...I still see you...DUH, I thought you would know more about computers than I would!)
I made my decision to take off last night as I was having trouble sleeping. I woke up a bit before 1 AM and laid there for a while trying really, really hard to fall back to sleep. When it didn't work, I gave up and channel surfed until I found Family Guy on in the middle of the night. Then, after a couple doses of xanax, I finally fell back asleep around 4 and woke up about a half hour ago. I walked the dog until he gave me the usual sign that the walk is over, a bag-O-dog shit.
Well, after my dog got sick, my friend's dog got sick so I'm back to making the special ground beef/rice/eggs/cheese diet that helped before. That means that the dogs are eating better than I am and the ground beef is boiling so I have to run and finish it before they finish me!
..."Don't go anywhere, another episode of Family Guy is coming up right now!" Monday nights are my favorites! My Monday day was absolutely fantabulous, I spent it with an old boyfriend, one I had before I met my first hubby. I don't have many days as great as this one was.
Ordinarily I would be taking care of business but we both blew off business for the day and had fun. He burned me 2 DVD's full of great music that I chose from his excellent collection and when I got home, I was so excited to find the Springsteen that I had chosen but after spending an hour trying to make the stupid thing play, I was still sitting in angry silence. If anyone out there can come over here and make the stupid thing play, I'll give them my Tuesday.
I even tried it in the VCR player on the TV but it was "incompatible". I got their incompatible.
I tried media player, every drive on the computer and every other damn way I could think of and NOTHING worked. I have hours and hours of the best music that I could grab from his amazing list and now I have 2 flat round things that would be better used as small serving trays for the Pit Bull show dude or Frisbees for rats than the amazing music I thought I had. I won't let it ruin my 2 hours of Family Guy, but after that's over, I think I might be seriously annoyed. I couldn't even get one disc out of the computer so I just gave up. Then, when I just sat down to write this post, I realized that starting the browser made the disc thingie go back into the computer. I missed my chance to get that bastard out of the stupid vertical thingie that seems to defy gravity. I don't know what I did to make it spit the thing out and now I don't think I even want to try again.
Why can't this thing be easy like a TV? You push a button and it goes on, you push another and it changes channels and then another button makes it louder. Speaking of louder...I needed to make out for a while and the TV was on some stupid channel that had both of us kissers kissing to some annoying show so I muted the dumb thing. It went to 1/2 mute. 1/2 mute? What the hell is 1/2 mute? Mute is mute, you can't be half mute anymore than you can be half female. Well, I suppose that COULD happen, but I haven't actually seen it happen myself. Anyway, I just finished making out to half mute stupid stuff.
Living with a friend who has kids is worse than living with your parents if you're trying to make out...not only could the kids catch you...the mother could get annoyed at the fact that her kids caught 2 grown adults in a liplock on her couch. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the liplock, I just couldn't stop thinking of what could have been if I had been sure no one else could possibly walk in. As it turned out, my friend has been gone for 2 and a half hours and no kids, adults or police have come into the house since. I could have had some crazy fun in that time but now I'll have to go to bed thinking about what could have been. I think we're going to have to put a candle in the window or something like that. I'd pay her to take her kids to Chuck E. Cheese for one more chance to liplock that dude again for a couple hours.
So, basically, it's been a very frustrating end to a lovely day but at least I have Family Guy! So, before this episode ends, I'm gonna go back and watch it because when it's over there will be "another episode of Family Guy!"
Have a great night, day or whatever and I'll be falling asleep soon to the thoughts of what might have been had I know that no one would have come home for hours after the half hour of liplock that I enjoyed earlier. I did reach down the back of his pants just enough to grab some butt cheek...it was just like old times! Thank god for Family Guy...if it weren't for that, I would have to go to bed now thinking of the butt cheek I had in my hand oh so recently!
…but soon after, the dog needed to be walked and it was such a lovely morning that I couldn’t imagine things being so bad that I would want to be laid out on a medical examiner’s table by the end of the day and with morning suicides, you can pretty much guarantee a trip to the ol’ slab by dusk.
Odd…that I should wake up suicidal…I was writing a new stand up routine last night before I fell asleep. I was giddy and looking forward to performing at the Comedy Store. Then I woke up all melancholy. This morning was the yin to last night’s yan.
Oh well, I’m still here. No thanks to my Twitter friends, BTW. I tweeted twice that I was gonna off myself if no one gave me a reason not to and no one did. Then, in one last desperate effort, I tweeted by plans to Ashton Kutcher who obviously doesn’t care anymore about me than any of my other twit friends. Thanks Ash.
It wasn’t fear that stopped me, I’m not afraid of my personal method of self slaughter…but I am worried about who’s gonna take the dog out next. And the poor thing can’t open the dog food cans…not even those new ones with the pull-off tops.
Whatever. I think I’ll deal with suicide like I’ve dealt with tattoos for 30 years…I’ll just do it tomorrow. I still don’t have a tattoo and if suicide procrastination works half as well, that’ll send me into my mid 60′s. I’ll probably re-evaluate things at that point.
Now, I don’t want anyone to think that just because I have morning fantasies of dieing ingloriously, that it in any way implies that I’m nuts. I’m not. I’m simply weighing options and as an intelligent adult, I wanted it to be a comprehensive evaluation.
At the risk of contradicting that last paragraph, I have to tell you, there are NOT many pleasant ways to cause ones own death. I certainly wouldn’t attempt it here in Hollywood. Jumping’s no good…with my luck, I’d fall on Angelina Jolie’s car and she and Brad would adopt my kids and I’d be all famous post mortem which certainly IS second best, but I really, really want to be alive to enjoy any accolades I have coming.
Actually, accolades would be great therapy so if any of you would like to sing my praises, do so in the comment section. (Remember Twitter!!! Don’t twit me bro!)
So…if I’m gonna live, I might as well keep my commitment at The Comedy Store…if you want to come out and yell, “Jump!” while I’m on stage, show up and tell them Meg sent you. If not, just leave any derogatory comments in un-moderated comment hell.
If misery makes for good humor, I ought to be in rare form.
...I started out by taking Payton for his 2 mile walk during which he had a hideous bout of diarrhea and then I had to go to the Tae Kwon Do tourny which I almost missed because of being in the hospital. I didn't do badly at all...we got first place for team patterns and then I got second place for individuals. Not bad for an old chick with a bleeding brain...ey?
After the tournament, my team and I went out to do what all sportsmen do after winning a trophy...we drank a LOT of beer. Unfortunately, I couldn't drink as much as I wanted to because my girlfriend showed up and told me that Payton was now vomiting and bleeding from the backside. We had to take him to the emergency vet who diagnosed him as having "vomiting and diarrhea"...and charged me hundreds of bucks for that tricky diagnosis. He got 2 shots and 4 meds which came to close to $250. We got home late, I don't even know what time it was but as bad as that experience was, I think it turned out to be a good thing. This teensy weensy hangover could have been a WHOLE lot worse and would have been if I had stayed out with the guys. (Yes, I'm the only girl on the team.)
Anyway, this morning Payton has taken his medicine and eaten his rice, eggs and filet Mignon. I would have given him ground beef but we didn't have any. He's acting fine so that nightmare is over...I hope.
Anyway, I'm sure I mentioned the guy who I was dating in LA...I really, really liked that guy. Now I find myself missing him something awful. I keep on thinking about him and it sort of makes me sorry that I left. Nowhere near as sorry as I was when I found out that I left a pregnant daughter there, but now I'm wondering if I made a huge boo boo by leaving. I can be such a flake sometimes.
I haven't dated a guy who made me feel like this since the 80's. I've dated some really nice guys, but you know how it goes, when I like them they don't like me and when they like me, I DON'T like them. This one liked me and I liked him. I don't know why I left him there except to say I must not of realized how much I liked his Viking fan self. I certainly never thought that I would miss him so much.
I've been seeing a guy who I dated in the 70's and I really, really like him too. So, there's my current conundrum. I'm afraid to make a move again because it always seems to be a dumb ass thing to have done in retrospect. Oh well, I think I'll try to stick out the Chicago winter and if it gets too bad, I'll head back to a coast, any coast, as long as it's the southern coast. But who knows, I haven't experienced 80 below with the wind chill factor in decades, maybe I'll find that I like it! Of course, I'll have to get another coat, my little leather jacket is no match for a Chicago winter. Ooh, I might even have to get real gloves, not the little driving gloves that match the jacket. And hell, I'm sure I'll need a hat and a scarf. Luckily, I have long johns already.
Well, now that Payton has been drugged and fed, I think I can take him on his walk...if I don't do it now I'll have to wait until the sun goes down because I know I can't handle 2 miles in the 90 degree heat. I have some things to do today anyway so I'll go get sweaty now and shower so I can get sweaty again when it warms up. I hate sweat enough, I know I don't want to sweat new sweat on top of old sweat!