Monday, June 13, 2005

coming out of my cage and i've been doing just fine

I get hungry but I'm too damn tired and hot to eat. So I usually end up drinking all day. (And no, Zal, not THAT kind of drinking.)
Here's what I had to eat on Sunday: a bowl of Special K, 2 naked hot dogs (ok three if you count Little Mr. G & four
if you count the cop I blew in my jilling fantasy--damn was he ever HUNG)
2 protein bars and a pear.

Michelle posted in her LJ about some chick who was talking about committing suicide in HER LJ and her "friends" were encouraging her to go for it. It's pretty damn sad when you talk about killing yourself and your friends ENCOURAGE you. I remember this one time I thought about killing myself. I told the offspring that I just couldn't go on anymore. I was too stressed out. They were so sweet. They rounded up all the prescription tranquilizers they could find for me and they even brought me a big ole glass of Jack Daniels to wash 'em down so I would feel less stressed about things.
Aren't they the best?
(Note to the offspring: You have a better chance of killing me with an overdose of chocolate than ya do booze and tranqs.
My body considers them "vitamins".)

Gawd the Yahoo mail filters suck. 3/4's of the time
my legit mail goes in the bulk folder and
my spam goes in the legit folder.

12 JUNE 2005
paint a rumor watch the color spread

(7:30 p.m.) Here's a couple hee haw's for ya. (Despite the fact that Zal BEGGED me to steal his jokes, I found a few of my own.)
A guy goes into confession and says to the priest, "Father, I'm 80 years old, married, have four kids and 11 grandchildren, and last night I had an affair, and I made love to two 18 year old girls. Both of them. Twice."
The priest said, "Well, my son, when was the last time you were in confession?"
"Never Father, I'm Jewish."
"So then, why are you telling me?"
"I'm telling everybody."

One day while on patrol, a police officer pulled over a car for speeding. He went up to the car and asked the driver to roll down her window. The first thing he noticed, besides the nice red sports car, was how hot the driver was! Drop dead blonde, the works.

"I've pulled you over for speeding, Ma'am.... could I see your drivers license...?"
"What's a license???" replied the blonde, instantly giving away the fact that she was as dumb as a stump.
"It's usually in your wallet," replied the officer.
After fumbling for a few minutes, the driver managed to find it.
"Now may I see your registration?" asked the cop.
"Registration..... what's that?" asked the blonde.
"It's usually in your glove compartment," said the cop impatiently. After some more fumbling, she found the registration.
"I'll be back in a minute," said the cop and walked back to his car.
The officer phoned into the dispatch to run a check on the woman's license and registration. After a few moments, the dispatcher came back; "Ummm.... is this woman driving a red sports car?"
"Yes," replied the officer.
"Is she a drop dead gorgeous blonde?" asked the dispatcher.
"Uh... yes" replied the cop.
"Here's what you do," said the dispatcher. "Give her the stuff back, and drop your pants."
"WHAT!!? I can't do that. It's..... inappropriate," exclaimed the cop.
"Trust me..... just do it," said the dispatcher.
So the cop goes back to the car, gives back the license and registration and drops his pants, just as the dispatcher said.
The blonde looks down and sighs, "Oh no ... not ANOTHER breathalyzer."

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