We’re all sensitive people, with so much to give! Undastand me shuga?

Since we've gottah be here, Let's li-hiv, I LOVE YOU!!!
Theeeeerz nuthin wrong with me-he-he, luuuvin YEW-HOO! (baby naw naw!)
Aaaaand givin yaself ta me, can neva be wrong, if the luv is true!

In other words…LETS GET IT ON! ;) Marvin is so slick. But people who use him to get tail…well they are a special breed. It’s interesting that I went on the dating rant yesterday and actually poked fun at the 'beer on the lips kisser' (aka: Mr. Truck Stop), because his ears must have been burning…he texted me last night (is texted a word? It is now.) I actually think he might be a total psycho now, or just a very VERY misunderstood comic. So I get the following text:

There's nothing wrong with me...lovin you!

Ok…fine. A little weird, and I didn’t quite pick up on the whole Marvin vibe he was sending out yet, and I also couldn’t help but think that maybe he should have ended the text at “there’s nothing wrong with me”. It would have been a lie, but perhaps more comforting than the follow-up messages:

Givin yourself to me can never be wrong.

I beg to differ. No. That was my reply: “no” not even capitalized. So, I get another one:

Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on baby, stop beating around the bush!

You aint gettin anywhere NEAR this bush Mr. Truck Stop Lover! That’s a lotta ‘come on’s’. And yet another comes. By this time, yes I have caught on and boy, this one was romantic:

Let's get it on! Itll be our secret. Meet me. By the way I am sorry to bother you as I am certain I asked b4, but are you clean yet?

Why are you trying to have sex with me if you don’t even think I am “clean”? And what’s this YET bullshit?! Did I miss something?

So I called him. Texting makes my fingers cramp up and I learned the other night at Curves that repetitive motion of the fingers or hands is the number one cause of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome which is apparently very painful. Can’t say I didn’t become a TAD bit worried about that whole “repetitive motion of the hands being bad” thing…you know…with all the “video games” I play. ;) Might want to keep that in mind guys (and Lindsay)…take it easy on the repetitive motion thang. ;) Anyway, so I called him reluctantly because he talks FOR-FREAKING-EVER about his wealth and ignorance and Jamal Lewis’ $38,000 watch that he has a replica of…I don’t get in a word edgewise, and he doesn’t laugh at ANYTHING! One might think he was being witty with the Marvin, but NO! He’s just weird. Oh and by the way, this is the one who asked me once while kissing, “who’s my dirty little whore?” I said, “I don’t know!!! You tell me?!” A little early on for the freak-talk Mister. Anyway, I’d told him I couldn’t see him anymore (very willingly) a few weeks ago and I didn’t tell him that now I could because I don’t want to. I don’t care if he’s $loaded$ out the wazzoo, that doesn’t appeal to me. I think he’s an ass. (Nikki, are you interested? hehe) He says, “Well then let’s just get some Goslings and some oysters at Berthas and let me pamper you.” Yeaaaahhhhh…this coming from the guy who when he eats oysters, toasts, “here’s to eatin pu**y!” Rich people are SO f*cking weird, I tell you. They have like ZERO social skills and they do a lot of cocaine and it makes them really talkative, annoying, and persistent (like me cept not as cute). I would say it was good to be wanted…but it’s not really. He’s not the one.

Ok, so you’re welcome, because I thought you would enjoy a resurgence of the “truck stop fantasy man” you all found so hilarious (Nikki, Brad and Gretch: this is the goof-ball whose texts we were reading in Pazo and cracking up). For those of you who don’t know what I mean there with the ‘truck-stop’ thing, let me just keep it quick and say that this guy could buy an entire island…have anything he wanted…and his fantasy was to meet and ”getiton” at a truck stop on I-95, ok? HAHA!

I came in a half a day today since I had such a WILD NIGHT last night! Wooooooo! All that sex, drugs and rock and roll will really take a lot outta ya! oh wait…no. That’s someone else life. I had too much pasta, jogged and read some sentimental email stuff to torture myself and make me feel like I’d had interaction with someone who loved me and then passed out, only to wake up on the couch at 3:30am with a kickin neck ache and the laptop was burning my lap…top!!! haha Literally! I then went to bed and decided that I should keep sleeping past 8…9…10 when my ex mother in law (oh lord) called and then I decided that I was a lazy waste of depressed space and that I should go to work and do something…like write my blog ;) I’m wearing that weird leisure suit silk shirt with the brown and black and white diagonal stripes that wigs everyone out and my hair is SO curly today, that the sales guys are calling me Tito (Jackson, I suppose). So yeah—I’m a vision of lowliness…whoops I mean LOVELINESS, as always. ;)

Not much more to say here today, as I’ve exhausted myself this week with blogarrhea and moose cries, but there are a few “experiments” or goals for the upcoming months I’ve set, that I’d like to share (wrote a song about it, like ta hear it? here it go…)

Project Blockbuster – I’ve kept Napoleon Dynamite for…GOSH!!!! I don’t even know anymore it’s been so long, in order to TEST Blockbuster’s new “no late fee” policy. It was explained to me that basically you get like a 3 cents a day charge like the public library, not to exceed the full price of the movie after 30 days or something. Well, I went to rent another movie on Monday to narcotize myself from a SHITTY day and the weirdo at the counter (by the way, same guy who I had to tell ‘I ain’t got no dvd hon’) says: “umm…you have a late fee.” I say, “A-HA!!!!!!!” violently pointing one finger in the air. He looks at me like, what. is. your. problem. I hate this job. And I say, "I thought you had no late fees?!” So he says that I have a movie out and that I have well exceeded 30 says (and ya know—I don’t f-ing think so but whatever) and that I have now purchased the movie for $11.99…all I have to do is pay that and then pay for my new movie and I own ND. So hell yeah! $11.99 aint bad for a new release now IS IT? So I’m going to keep the movie I rented on Monday until I move…and see what happens then. After 2 weeks of being late. What they charge me. If I get the opportunity to throw a quarter or a dime or something at them…that’ll be kewl.

Project Bread Mold – Tom you inspired me to try and mold some low carb bread. Naturally since I am feeling so low, I decided that the best thing to do was to diet by removing the only other thing in my life I can put in my mouth to make me happy ;) by reducing or eliminating carbs. Carbs fuel your natural endorphins, which gives you things like, THE WILL TO LIVE! I’m feeling this isn’t a smart move but I’ve lost 3lbs since Monday (though I don’t know if that’s the the diet). But, I did purchase some low carb rolls and they are really squishy, but it’s out on the counter and it’s day 5 and no mold. I will keep you posted. I don’t think it will mold. Ever.
*oh and Nikki, sorry, but it’s coming to the new house with me.

Project Red Dress –I want to be thinner by my birthday and I know I will be, but I have a specific goal in mind. I want to wear a red dress that night. A really sexy slinky kind of red dress. I want to go out and have a bang up good night with some dancing and drinking (not the kind that makes me yak) and be beautiful and tan and feel great and maybe smooch a non-mutant. I REALLY want this red dress y’all…so that’s my goal. Maybe I could come up and do this night in New York City? I naturally want you all to be there. I want some red strappy shoes too. Mmmm I’m gunna be a HOT MAMA! Tssssssss!!! (that’s the sizzle noise). Oh and that would be May 22, so markit-in-yo-books!

By the way ladies, great comments on my blog! Made me laugh. That’s my fav :) Heather, good dating guide, much better than my Dennis Miller Rant on dating. Nikki, your “thank you list” is heart-felt. I like Burger King and using the pay phone to call a boy I am obsessed with better than Paddy Wagon arrests too. I think you and I have always been a thin thread away from many a night in jail, which reminds me of that “email signature” that Lindsay used to have that says:

A friend would bail you out of jail. A TRUE friend would be sitting right here next to ya saying, “Damn! We f*cked up!”

Thanks for keeping me out of jail too. Oh and picking me up every time I fell down around you which is more times than I can count, but you seem to do a fine job! Oh and rolling over a fence and hitting the ground with an “UMPFF!” doesn’t count as falling.

I got mucho responses to my “please please help me move, I’m desperate” email. Thank you all! Like I said, beer, pizza and love is all I can offer you, but my dad is coming and so is Erin and Chris, so we’re sure to at least have some good laughs, some good eats and some good falls. ;) Anyone else who wants to come and help thelauralee move on March 12th at the ass crack of dawn, PLEASE do! I will love you forever and give you anything you want out of my stuff (maybe). Also, tonight I will be packing. I have to stop partying or crying for at least an hour and pack. ANYONE AND EVERYONE is welcome to come and help me tonight (or anytime). I’ve got some really weird stuff we can laugh at but I must remind you that I can’t do the following:

-Screw off
-Lay on the couch or in bed and talk
-Watch a movie or tv
-Play “DJ”
-Get drunk or jog (a lot)

The eating will have to stay at a minimum too, although I need people to come over and eat all the food in my fridge and pantry by next Saturday (I’ll call Erin and all her college friends). So if you’re up for some light packing and…ok…there can be wine but not the industrial size, please come over! I am such a freaking procrastinator that I have to take off of work next week a few days! Loser! Ahhh well…fiddle-dee-dee.

TGIF! (I guess) I will close with this, a beloved memory from the South Park Movie, in my own honor of course, to celebrate my lazy, procrastinating ways!:

“Shut your f*cking face Uncle Fucka!
You’re the one who f*cked your uncle, Uncle Fucka!
You don’t eat or sleep or mow the lawn,
You just f*ck your Uncle all day long!”
So, shut your f*cking face Uncle Fuckaaaaaaaa! Ahhhh!”

(gosh, I hope my uncle isn’t reading this, he might get the wrong impression…)

Last night Erin wrote that to me as a greeting on IM and I said, “hey can I use that on my blog?” and she said: “ NO!!!!! “shut your fucking face uncle fucka" is mine for eternity!” What a wiseass. Can’t wait to have you lounge in our new crib Wheezy!

Adios fuckas!

Ps: call me…it’s ok…just stop fighting it…call me :)