conjunction junction, what's your function

as i was browsing the obsolete yet absolutely necessary online community, myspace, i opened up a bulletin posted by a friend who shall for his/her own security remain nameless. i'm not going to lie, i was mildly excited at the prospect of this bulletin because written in the subject line it was disclosed that the post was a survey. well... i'm at work on a Friday afternoon with a pile upon pile cascaded across my desk. in two hours i'll be heading to Vegas - of course i'd fill out a freaking survey right now. duh...

disappointment can't even convey what i felt when i realized it was a "sex" survey. a would-you-do-this-or-would-you-do-that-with-me kind of deal. if i was a thirteen year old inbred slut from Kentucky, i'd probably be re-posting that shit right now. but instead i'm writing to all of you educated folk specifically to inform you that one of the questions read: Would you do foreplay with me?

WHAT?!!

let's fucking think about that one more time - would you DO foreplay with me? um... i don't know. would you do conversation with me? it's bad enough that people feel the need to casually toss "let's do lunch!" in every day normal conversation, but when did that become the norm when referring to sexual acts, too? what is this sick, sad world coming to? i'm distraught.

viva Las Vegas.

SARS blows.

Katie and i met for dinner at Kaya tonight after i managed to escape the evil clutches of work. we were eating, talking, minding our own merry business when we began to notice that every once in a while some one from across the restaurant (presumably a man who likely idolized Aresnio Hall circa 1996) would release a large, SARS infested cough. how do i know he had SARS? probably because Katie and i now have it. how do i know we contracted SARS? probably because i did the research.

according to Wikipedia, the world's greatest fountain of here say knowledge, symptoms for the disease include fever, myalgia, lethargy, gastrointestinal symptoms, cough, sore throat and other non-specific symptoms. i definitely have been coughing, and those non-specific symptoms are a bitch to endure. i can only imagine what Katie is feeling now, as it seemed to affect her more initially than it affected me.

why can't people carry their own disposable surgical masks like Jennie Cathcart used to back in the FS days? at least we're not in South Africa where one whole person has previously contracted the disease and that one whole person has since left this precious world. that's a death rate of 100% in South Africa... scary.

if you don't see me or hear from me in a couple of days, please send a search party to my house to recover my deceased corpse. and tell my family i loved them.

Saturdays are for lovers

due to my insatiable desire to never be bored or left out of any situation involving my wonderful friends, i haven't had a Saturday all to myself in a while. until today, that is. my love affair with lazy Saturdays has been reignited. lying in bed all morning has helped me realize that i've only been lying to myself for the past few months - i love doing nothing.

though i technically woke up around 9:00am, i have yet to actually get up other than to get a glass of water from the kitchen, and then again to brush my teeth and wash my face. poor Lindsay left for work about an hour ago, but i guess i had to work all week so i don't feel that guilty that i'm contemplating ordering a pizza or perhaps even El Tarasco to prolong my time spent in my bed. i love my bed.

maybe i'll get up at some point and head to the beach, but then again, maybe i won't... for now i'll continue to listen to Coltrane Motion and pretend that i didn't just watch the Enganged and Underaged episode that featured the union of two 19 year old lesbians. happy Saturday.

talk about your highs and lows...

picture this if you will:

yesterday morning, about 8:15am i pull into the Noah's Bagels parking lot on Washington. i've just gone to CVS to get sunscreen for Nikki's b-day spa excursion. i find decent parking, get out of the car and start walking toward the entrance when i feel something stuck to the bottom of my left flip flop. assuming i've stepped in gum, i begrudgingly look down only to find one of the most disgusting sights i have ever seen. so disgusting, in fact, that i instantly threw up. no joke, i puked in the middle of the parking lot in front of i don't know how many people, for there stuck to the bottom of my flop was a used tampon. what? you didn't catch that the first time. oh, let me repeat it for you, then. some nasty ass bitch felt that she no longer needed the tampon she had previously inserted so she chucked it in the middle of a fucking parking lot and then it was stuck to my damn shoe. thank God i wasn't hungover or i would have spewed Exorcist style...