Lost Yo' Home?

"It's metal under tension,
begging you to touch and go!"

-"Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins

As of 9:17pm, I became aware that I have energy. No more dragging myself around thanks to sleepiness. No more wondering if I should just throw my shoulders around due to how tired they are. No more thinking I am never going to make it in this world. I am back. To prove it to you, I give you this. I was watching a newscenter's discussion on the housing crisis. Found myself asking questions:

"You make just above $6/hour, have 4 kids, and you sit here crying about how you cannot afford your 3-floor home!?! Yeah, the bank ripped you off and ya-da ya-da. Have you ever heard of condoms and common sense?"

This bothers me. I've yet to understand why people that can barely make ends meet seem to feel this need to breed. Teenagers talk of how cute babies are (They're not) and how they'd like to have them while so young with no job. This world is so fucked up when people that do not use common sense these days. Babies are expensive. They are dirty, smelly, filthy little creatures that get their points across by throwing things or drooling on them. Alcohol just makes them worse. Stop having kids if you have a dead-end job or have no common sense to share. This goes out to blacks (city types acting like they're rappers), whites (a lot of this is in the south), and Mexicans (all the fuck over-they breed in trains, too) so it's all over.

Stupidity just breeds stupidity. That goes for all those that still think Legally Blonde is a great flick. It's mildly funny, at best.

So, I'm back and happy to be moving around. Did get sick every now and then when Diddly made his appearance on MTV's Making the Band 4. I just cannot stand him and his arrogance. Even when he calls a meeting with Danity Kane, there he is acting bored instead of focused. Diddly talks about professionalism and such but doesn't take off his sunglasses all while making me constantly feel like the show is basically to keep himself known. Hardly anyone I know in my life likes him and his music.

Oooooh, Dawn, you are F-I-R-E. *makes scorching sound* This girl is making the white boy wonder what it's like in those pants of yours. I bet her thong smells like peach cobbler on a warm day.

So, obviously I need to get into The Vagina Monologues before it pretty much becomes a faded memory. My flu symptoms make things appear as a haze even if it wasn't that long ago. Coughing rattles mah brain back and forth. If you didn't hear that, it was the slushing sound the past 4 days. I'm mush up there thanks to my only food being ginger ale. 6 pounds gone in 4 days thanks to all that carbonated sody pop.

I'll just be blunt at how amusing it was for Sara to just blurt out to all the girls at the table during the after-party about how I wish I could be Keira Knightley's bicycle seat. Mind you, I didn't know anyone there. This was all for people that were in The Vagina Monologues along with their friends. It's like, "Hi, guys! My boyfriend wants to smell Keira's pussy!" I had not seen the show yet because this would be tomorrow. Great way to get me unforgettable with the female crowd of feminist/hardcore feminists/poets. Only one other male was there. He was on the far end of the table and looked like he lost his balls. Mine are big enough to spare but I aint sharing.

I'll admit to meeting all these women at the after-party as something odd. Their lesbian love for each other was very much in full-view. Men pay for this sort of thing because girls kissing girls is something they grew up on in Hustler/Club/Penthouse. It's a right of passage to find various women licking naughty parts in close-up views thanks to Dad's secret stash of porn. Most girls were obviously gay due to the military cuts, dress style, and sudden getting up to dance seductively with another girl. Mind you, Sara danced dirty with all the girls. My girlfriend is a closet-wanna-eat-pussy-type but that's just between you and me.

There was a lone guy, quite chunky and very ugly that kept trying to dance with all the girls. I'm not kidding. No matter how many times the girls would take their lesbian dance troupe away, he'd keep coming back from the restaurant's bar thinking himself so hot. Big fashion mistake: When you have a large overhanging stomach, do not tuck your shirt in tight. It's sad when extremely ugly people think themselves hot enough for girls that shave their heads.

Don't go knocking The Vagina Monologues as being nothing but a bunch of paragraphs on pussies. What I did see is the quiet frustrations faced when owning one. Tampons are nothing but unlubed cotton designed to be shoved up there in order to sop up menstrual blood. Can it be possible to design something that will make them more comfortable? Medical instruments to be used in gyno exams are cold and scary. Would it hurt for the doctor to warm up his hands first? Many of those instruments are very painful. How would you like your balls smashed for 30 minutes and then asked how you feel? Female circumcision? I've already discussed that a thousand times in my blogs. The point is that vaginas can be seen as nothing but holes for men to use as pleasure palaces or experiments.

Sara's character in the play was the hit of the show. First of all, while the others lacked stage presence and the ability to stop mumbling their lines (my one big complaint in hiring people that lack experience for plays), Sara just went crazy by cracking her kitty whip. *Whap!* All the girls stood up and obeyed as she acted throughout her telling of a female gigolo that loves to make vaginas happy. The character was once a business woman that grew bored with paper after paper. Licking pussy was her calling. I don't think the audience was ready for the kitty whip part.

Of course, there was another after-party. You know lesbians. They have to celebrate pussy by eating at an expensive sushi restaurant. The irony gets to me, too.

I hate to do this but I've got a situation that just came up. I'll finish this later because their is still lots of pussy and girl dancing talk. I'm happy to be back. Happy twats all around.