Might I commend you on your general mastery over the everyday wanton erection? Seriously. I'm really glad I don't have a penis. I'd be poppin' tents left and right. Luckily, my goodies are mostly internal, and I can enjoy my little clitoral schwings worry-free, whether I'm on the bus or on the street or at the movie theatre or at the coffee shop or at the grocery store or ...

Who needs a boyfriend? Luva needs a boyfriend.

I'm in that mental quagmire right now that one puts oneself in after a prolonged period of not gettin' any. You know, when you convince yourself that there's something fundamentally wrong and repugnant about you, that makes you completely undesirable and un-dateworthy.

I mean, there must be some reason that I've never had a serious relationship. I should be able to fix this, right? There should be some part of me that I can get my hands on and mold into an alternate form so that I better fit with other people. Gah. Sometimes I get so lonely, my head hurts. It overwhelms me and all I can think of is jumping off a high place for a few moments of exhilleration before everything stops.

Hey ... so ... Tennis, anyone? Ahem.

I'm being a bit silly. I know everyone feels this way from time to time, but strangely, the last thing a person wants to hear when she is feeling pathetic is that everyone sometimes feels pathetic.

My bra strap keeps sliding off my shoulder. Stupid thing. I hate bras.

What am I talking about? I don't hate bras. They amuse me. When you think about it, they're pretty absurd. Especially if, like me, you lack the boobage necessary to get a truly "supportive" bra, and instead you get a bra that supports itself. Like, you lay it on a flat surface, and it forms two independent little mounds. Then you strap that thing on your body because everyone says it's necessary, when you know that all it does is give you a bit more symmetry and a bit less bounce, and conceals your nips from the general population.

Oh yes, lads ... you may have to deal with dicks, but you don't have half the nipple issues that we ladies do.

Yes, so brassieres are absurd.

But, when you think about it, everything's pretty absurd. Sometimes I get all boggled by the bizarre fact that I have a head. Absurd! Arthropods. I mean, clams don't have heads, and they seem to do okay. Cephalopods. Absurd.

Gah. I'm starting to deconstruct everything. Nothing's fitting together, and my arms are tingling. Oo -- maybe I'm having a heart attack! That would be new.

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

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BUY JEN'S BOOK! BUY IT! DO IT!

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BUY DEAN'S BOOK, TOO! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA! SERIOUSLY.

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