Parties. I have a love/hate relationship with parties. On one hand, they are fun. On the other, I do not partake in alcohol, so I have to make my own fun. When you are sober like a redwood at all times, drunk people start to seem like lesser beings after a while. Loss of control over faculties, bladder. Feh. Is it fun to be a delta of rivulets? (sweat, urine, blood, spilled ales and lagers) And why are there no effete homosexuals at improv parties? My feet are stinky (just got a whiff; thank you sandals!) but I would like to keep here for personal reference (and public consumption) some funny shit I said tonight.
TRUCKER DICK. I was mad insulting the party for its lack of skanky cum-dumpster hos with their vistas of public-domain titties and Forever 21 nipple covers and all corresponding skinny bitches (i.e. this bitch needs to get filled with mashed potatoes; stuffing; gravy; turkey dinner because eating is cool) and then I stated that I prefer sexual relations with a man whose got a little sum'in to hold onto (like Bob and his sexy beer belly--not that YOU can hold on to it; married to me, Bob is the ONLY man I've had sex with in the last 5 years, so get your own beer belly), not some hammer-hips skinny dude (that's like fucking a box of hangers--no thank you). When I want some meat, I WANT SOME MEAT WITH SOME FAT ON IT. Marbled steak, thank you. Then I was making fictional assessments of people that made no sense and was for entertainment purposes only but said that Jason has "trucker dick," a propos of nothing.
Trucker Dick. What is it? A disease? A state of being? Smell touch taste texture? TEXTURE??? Constricted vas deferens causing sprinkler-style ejaculation? I don't know. It's all made up. No offense to Jason. I should not be conjecturizing on his manhood. That is wrong. But improvisers...what a pack of douchecakes, me included. Especially me. Insult humor ahoy! I don't mean anything by it. I am drunk with love. No beer, just love. Big foamy glasses. Frosty love. Cold. Refreshing.
This sort of behavior would be acceptable WERE I DRUNK, which I'm not because of TOPROL XL and it's relationhip to my Marfan Syndromey heart. I also have WEIRD, HURTY BUMPS behind my ear and on the back of my head. Stress-related? I am like that nasty pustule of a third-grader, tender skin rendered raw and bleedy from repeat visits from infected fingernails. It's all hidden underneath my rich, wavy locks. You'll never see it unless I intercept you and ask you to check me for nits.
I had weird hurty bumps last week. Could be the sickness I had.
Posted by: jules at September 2, 2007 06:16 PM