Since yesterday was a frightening glimpse
2005-05-03, 9:06 a.m.

Since yesterday was a frightening glimpse into the serious side of things, I want to lighten it up today and provide pure superficiality and silliness. That�s right, y�all, choke me in the shallow water before I get too deep.

This morning DW and I were doing our Sculpt workout, and at the end, you have to do those chair dips. You know, you raise and lower yourself backwards in a slanted position, using only your arms and by making a face. And you�re not having sex, in case y�all were wondering what the hell I�m talking about. Although now that I think about it, you could. You totally could. Oh great. Now I�m horny. I digress�

Those chair dips always just almost kill me (and now they make me horny)� my arms don�t look spindly, but they are apparently quite weak. Kind of fat and weak. Full of Crisco. Anyway, DW asked me if I was OK after I grunted and moaned and made terrible faces, and I said offhand, �I guess it�s just hard because my ass is so fucking big.�

He laughed and declared me to be �a funny lady.� Although we all know that he is easily entertained, I hope that is my legacy, a funny lady. In fact, I want it on my tombstone, next to the engraved (no pun intended) picture of me holding my accordion. I don�t play the accordion, nor do I own one �yet-, but once upon a time, as I perused the obits, I saw an obit picture of a gentleman with the happiest smile on his face, holding his accordion. And I thought, �By God, I will have an accordion, and I will take it to my grave.�

As the renowned redneck comedian Rodney Carrington says, I hope when I get to heaven, the Lord motions me in and says �Get on in here, you funny motherfucker.�

I�ve worked out for 3 days in a row, which is some kind of record for me, and I swear to God, I�m having pancakes for dinner tonight. As it is right now, I�d give my left ovary (the dependable one! the one that does most of the ovulating!) for a doughnut. I am dying for lack of sweet, starchy carbs. Yogurt? Check. Apple? Check. Vegetable soup? Oh God, yes. Pop-tarts? Denied.

On the work front, I�m working on some responses to a vendor lawsuit right now. It consists of requests for admission, i.e. �give it up, bitch, and admit that each of the documents attached to Plaintiff�s Petition is a genuine original document or a true and correct copy thereof�� and I must admit right now, that I love fucking with these people.

As it stands right now, since the first time I ever saw the documents in question was when the Plaintiff sued my ass for an amount which is surely � of the amount they have spent on legal fees in a case that they will surely lose because they are stupid and it looks like a dummy contract between the vendor and the former owner/management of the property, not me, I�m not going to admit to anything. For all I now, you fuckers made it all up, and I have to say, all of the evidence you have produced thus far only bolsters that appearance.

Did you know that if you rearrange the letters in �bolsters�, you can spell �lobsters�? It�s true.

So, since I�m so busy gleefully being an asshole to people today, I believe it�s time for me to fly.