Still Lovin' Indy

"It's not the number of years, honey. It's the mileage."

-Indiana Jones

Every now and then, I feel as if my own body has taken its toll. Sure, I'm drenched in sweat and could wring out my bandanna less than an hour in. The piles of heavy materials I am forced to carry adds up. The heat has me watching the ice from the machine melt in less than 50 seconds. Nothing, however, can make me feel like I'm nothing when watching Indiana Jones go from getting kicked out of a truck my Nazis, climb underneath, and then back into the seat to kick the shit out of the guy that kicked him out in the first place. I salute you, Dr. Jones.

I've heard various scenarios as to what Hell is. To me, there is humor in meeting Lucifer all because I have this wonderful personality under pressure so that's out. I'm gonna go with what someone once told me:

"Hell is where you've just had explosive wet diarrhea seconds after popping a squat but forgot to notice that the only t.p. provided amasses to less than a square. Relief is not in sight and the damn thing is clogged up as people start banging around for you to hurry up. You also have no socks because they got soaked from the horrible splashes."

My own personal dreams of horror has more to do with being forced to run on a never ending treadmill. I do love to run on occasion but not forever.

Well, actually, I'm in my own personal turmoil. Sara gave me a men's t-shirt from the Vagina Monologues. Remember that? That was way back in February, the 14th to be exact. The play was nice and Sara gave an amazing performance as a woman that loves to make vaginas happy (who doesn't?). I'm just a tad bit nervous on wearing a t-shirt in front of my mother that bears the word 'vagina' clearly.

It's kind of weird. I've always been in love with the word, 'vagina.' It's pretty damn cool! Vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina! You could take it and see it as a disease because the uniqueness in how it sounds tends to breed such a thing. 'Penis' does, too. Plus, V-words are cool, like 'villain,' or 'vixen.' Ya gotta get those naughty words out even if you are clearly telling your mother that, yes, you have seen a vagina as clear as day. It was there in front of me telling me to eat it. Giggles abound! Woman moans and writhes. Woman sighs and is satisfied. Vagina is closed for business.

I hate hearing how so many pets are now being abandoned thanks to families having a hard time in this economy. There is no day like a day spent with 5-Pound Phooey.

Today, some lady stopped her truck in front of me while I walked 5-Pound Phooey. In it, was a small Yorkshire Terrier just like mine. Adorable looking, too. My guess is that the lady wanted to know about 5-Pound Phooey so I put her up to the window to meet this dog riding shotgun. Seconds later, my little 4-legged beast goes apeshit by chewing out the little dog in the truck. Why my dog will never get along with others, I will never know. Attitude is everything.

Plus, a chihuahua sniffed her butt earlier. 5-Pound Phooey doesn't like it when a cold nose ends up pressed against her bunghole.

So, I've got to go after finally being able to watch Raiders Of the Lost Ark on TV. Still the best of the 4 and rightfully so. Witness the playfulness between Indy and Marion. Come for the snakes. Enjoy the interest in archeology. Best of all, it had adventure hardly any movies are able to match. Now, if they would just put Rambo 3 on again, I'd be a very happy testosterone-fueled male. Sara won't let me watch it when she's in the room. Happy twats all around.