Today’s entry has very little to do with HOT LESBIAN ACTION! I named this piece thusly because I thought it would be a good idea to offset the dull nature of the subject matter with an exciting, provocative subject header.
Subject matter being threefold, each fold more mundane than the next:
1) I can’t find Q-Tips. Did the market crash last week affect the world’s supply of Q-Tips? Eckert-or-however-you-spell-it closed suddenly, taking their Q-Tips with them. Local Market #1 has an empty peg on the wall for weeks now where Q-Tips ought to be. Local Market #2 has never heard of them. Or at least the decidedly acallipygian checkout woman gave me a look of recoiling horror when I axed, “Yo!! Y’all gots any uvdem dere Q-Tips er wot!?”
“Whatchoo be talkin’ bout, mistah? GITCHO ass outta m’sto’, foo, ‘fo I take a stick ta yo’ hed!”
Peasant Market down the street just doesn’t hold hygiene in high regard apparently. There is also a deficit of toothpaste and toilet paper there. Hmm.
2) My tum-tum is all messed up. I’m actually home today because I’m feeling so gross. Like I swallowed two cats and a bag. I won’t elucidate upon this condition and bring forth harrowing details. Chances are, I’ve already lost 48% of my 17 readers with the Q-Tip litany. Why lose another 37.4% of the remainder? It just doesn’t make good business sense!
3) I would like to thank all the random passers-by who have popped into my guestbook to leave a little mental turd for me to savour. I made a startling discovery today. I have been labouring under the assumption that I have had precisely 17 readers for some time now. “The Crabster” has changed all that! “The Crabster” is #18! You’ve won a free pot holder, “The Crabster”!
Whence “The Crabster” came, and wither (s)he goes, I know not. But his/her very existence is crucial to the upkeep of these damn foo’ pages, for now that I am aware of not 17 but 18! readers, I will have to adjust the quality of my writing to reflect such masses.
But not today.
So you see — your patronage, if not your patronisation, has a direct and immediate impact upon the quality of product I feel behooved to produce. Your influence — in action!
Now I’m just waiting for a psycho-stalker to start deconstructing me down to the most minute corpuscle, like the dude who prompted Impossigirl to withdrawl her guestbook entirely. For you see, I have a penchant for hate mail and psychotic people — in writing at least. To meet them would be dull.
Speaking of dull, I’ll stop writing now.
|
