But that's the kind of random day I've had.
Dinner? Pop Tarts, string cheese, and water (good God, makes me sound like I'm in prison).
Therapy? Sucked balls. He's pushing me to get better...d-bag (but in a good way).
I've done nothing this evening but go through blogs that I've saved in my Reader and actually read them. There's a couple that I'm probably not going to follow anymore. They're just not keeping my attention. Since there's an even SIXTY blogs that I follow, I'd really like to pare that down to about half. That way, I can comment and build my shiz up, yos.
I kind of jotted some things down earlier that I was going to comment about, but they're not that interesting (at least, one isn't...you'll just have to wait for Written Wednesday for it). So here...in no specific order:
*note: the following is my view on things - NOT to be taken as worldwide fact*
~I have no hatred toward gay people. In fact, I think Perez Hilton (whilst utterly shameless) is funny as hell and keeps me up to date on things. (See, Mr Realist? I don't really have to buy the magazines in the grocery store...I can get the same shiz for FREE! I digress...) But the (Wo)Man that he's been posting about gives me the pure shivers. I look at gay people the same way I look at other religions - I don't force my beliefs on you, why must you force them on me? You are forcing me to look at some old pasty fat guy who wears little more than a mesh top, modified nursing bra so his moobs (man boobs, for those of you who are not familiar with the term) hang out, a skirt that wouldn't be long enough on anyone short of Nicole Richie...and...a...well...erm... basically, it looks like a spandex sock that covers his twig-n-berries. If that's not bad enough, he isn't covering the fupa!! (Forget about the childrens - won't somebody think of ME?!) (if you're puzzled by the fupa term, Google it. That. Is. All.)
*runs around the room, screaming for eyebleach*
Where was I? Oh, yes.
~Man or Woman? You know who I'm talking about. Thomas Beattie - "The Pregnant Man."
*horrid buzzer sound* "Wrong! Try again, dumbass!" Ok, look. If you still have the girl parts that would enable you to carry a child within your womb, you are a woman. I don't care how many injections you've had or that you've had your breasts sliced off or that you inject yourself with raccoon semen** to get the hair on your chin and chest to grow like a man's. You. Are. Still. A. Woman.
"But what about women who have mastectomies or hysterectomies? Does that make them men?" No. Of all the women I know who have had one or both of these procedures done, it wasn't because they weren't really 'girls'. It was for medical reasons. Does me deciding to close up the baby-making part of my fabulous girly bits make me less of a woman? No.
Sigh. Ya know, there are some things that just make me want to slap every maroon upside the head with a limp trout. Repeatedly. Until they see that I am right.
Tomorrow was supposed to be a day of closing a PC show - going to churches and halls for Erika (SIL) (she can figure that out on her own...she's too indecisive, and it's going to piss me off something fierce). O - in case any of you are wondering, Tim (future BIL) quit truck driving school because "it's just too hard being away from home." Yeah. We know why it's tough being away from home, Tim. You can't have Erika under your thumb if you're on the road, now can you? She might start thinking for herself and the baby, and you don't want that.
*screeching halt - back to topic at hand*
picking up money from mother-in-law (they've set aside money for the wedding...guess who gets to be in charge of it so it doesn't get spent on Tim's truck that he doesn't need? Yeah...that's right, bitches. Me. Cause I am the shiz.) and seeing his cousin and possibly Dad and Mama Caro.
It's going to be a long day.
Sorry for the long post, but one more quick thing. I have a friend who lives out in Boise, Idaho. I'd love to go see her for a few days. If I get the chance to do that this year (yeah, right), I'm going to take a day trip to Washington. See Forks (yeah, I'm a Twilight dork). See where my AL team (Go Mariners!) play. Have a cup of coffee with my gangsta beeotch Ki$ha. And see the Pacific Ocean (can't look much different than the Atlantic). But we'll see (far as the trip goes).
Anyhoo...have a great weekend, LDs, and I'll be taking notes for Bitch & Moan Monday, sponsored by In Through The Out Door
Peace out, bean sprouts!
Your slightly annoyed
**raccoon semen was the first thing that popped into my head. Yeah, I know. Damn hicks.