Lint-free Belly Button Gazing
An American girl in Rome muses on her adopted hometown, her libido and her vibrator.
29 October 2004
Thought for the Day
I hate Windows documentation. Can we say obtuse, buzzword jargon padded crap? Get to the fucking point already.
28 October 2004
26 October 2004
Got Dick?
Sunday night Shithead came back to Rome after a very necessary and stressful trip home. I saw his text message asking what i was doing around 9-ish and replied that we had just finished eat the gnocchi con vongole, ruccola, pachino e zucchini I had made.
(I cooked clams! With Vodka! It was easy! And they made cute little popping noises as I murdered them with butter, garlic, and vodka laced steam! It's like making popcorn and being a god all rolled into one!)
Ahem. Sorry. I digress.
He calls me (I had no credit left) and we chat. Well, I chat; he begs for me to come over. Begs obliquely, but still, begging is begging. I snicker and acquiesce
; I'll do the dishes and then head over to his place. As I put the leftover sauce in a bowl (I cooked clams!), it occurs to me that, having just arrived, he might not have eaten. I text again asking if he wants me to bring over the sauce.
I've already eaten, thanks. The only thing I need is your embrace
That's so corny I could make popcorn with it (Like cooking clams!). I smirk the entire metro ride over and I'm still smirking when he answers the door.
(I cooked clams! With Vodka! It was easy! And they made cute little popping noises as I murdered them with butter, garlic, and vodka laced steam! It's like making popcorn and being a god all rolled into one!)
Ahem. Sorry. I digress.
He calls me (I had no credit left) and we chat. Well, I chat; he begs for me to come over. Begs obliquely, but still, begging is begging. I snicker and acquiesce
; I'll do the dishes and then head over to his place. As I put the leftover sauce in a bowl (I cooked clams!), it occurs to me that, having just arrived, he might not have eaten. I text again asking if he wants me to bring over the sauce.
I've already eaten, thanks. The only thing I need is your embrace
That's so corny I could make popcorn with it (Like cooking clams!). I smirk the entire metro ride over and I'm still smirking when he answers the door.
23 October 2004
Also...
Despite the Sesso e la Città Eterna thing i have going on here at the Favoloso Mondo, I have never seen an episode of Sex and the City. However...
...BG & I did catch the tail end of The Banger Sisters last night. We decided that:
1) It was almost like looking at our lives 25 years in the future; Susan Sarandon was playing my life and Goldie Hawn was BG's
2) We have to start building our Poloroid collection of Dicks We Have Shagged.
...BG & I did catch the tail end of The Banger Sisters last night. We decided that:
1) It was almost like looking at our lives 25 years in the future; Susan Sarandon was playing my life and Goldie Hawn was BG's
2) We have to start building our Poloroid collection of Dicks We Have Shagged.
Tiny Mixed Tapes - This Rawks
via MeFi
Some of my favs:
Some of my favs:
- Music for unpretentious penguins
- I Hate You With the Intensity of 10,000 White Hot Burning Suns!
- Songs that'll make it easier to say "aw, screw it" and cram my tongue down his throat tomorrow night
- Songs For A Girl Who's Realized None Of You Men Are Any Different From The Rest Even If You Claim That You Are, And I'm Much Better Off Single And Not Waiting For The Next Asshole To Come Into My Life And Screw It Up, And Single Is Much More Fun Anyway, And P.S. To My Relatives Who Keep Whining For Me To Get Knocked Up - PISS OFF! (*Me looks at the RD's Henchwoman)
- Songs to listen to when you're eating banana pudding with a fork!!
- Songs to listen to when you want to gain 20 lbs in a weekend just because your getting liposuction Monday morning and really want to get your money's worth.
- Songs for days when you just want to be Ferris Bueller.
- The "I wish I was Quentin Tarantino" Mix
- Songs to listen to after looking at that "Badger Badger Badger" website for too long. http://www.weebls-stuff.com/toons/
- Songs To Sing To My Roomate While She Is Throwing Up From Too Much JD And I Am Holding Her Hair Back And I Want To Make Her Throw Up Faster So I Can Go Hit On The Bartender, Already
- He broke my heart so I broke his jaw
- The ultimate mix-tape for "getting over THE girl" (or THE guy).
- The sex is so great that you need a mixtape to muffle your screams when your parents are downstairs
- A mix to explain that I never really loved you, I just drank too much
- Songs about brunettes because we matter too, bitches.
- Songs to listen to when you and your ex decide to give things another try but it's just so awkward.
- farted and no one is around to smell it
22 October 2004
You Asked for It Ufez...
Most surreal moment during the breast exam portion of my gyno appointment yesterday:
"Lift your arms over you head. Take a deep breath. Now smile."
Post-Exam Thoughts as I Walked Back to the Office:
Gee, that was the most action I've seen in almost a month.
Hello folks. Not 10 minutes ago a complete stranger was playing with me jubblies and had his fingers up my twat. All in the name of science and women's health!
"Lift your arms over you head. Take a deep breath. Now smile."
Post-Exam Thoughts as I Walked Back to the Office:
Gee, that was the most action I've seen in almost a month.
Hello folks. Not 10 minutes ago a complete stranger was playing with me jubblies and had his fingers up my twat. All in the name of science and women's health!
19 October 2004
Reaping my Just Rewards
Eyebrow Boy is turning out to be rather persistent, bugger n' blast it.
I was ruminating on "Why the fuck did I kiss him?" once again this morning and the light bulb over my head lit up (for once. Pre-coffee even.).
Essendo sempre la ragazza chi provoca ma non conclude neinte diventà ogni tanto veramente due palle
In other words: Being the resident look-but-don't-touch cocktease gets really old sometimes.
(Of course I know kissing the poor guy only teased the poor bastard further but I obviously wasn't thinking along those lines at the time)
And as Shithead called this morning before he heads out of town and will be calling when he returns to Rome next week, I get to figure out exactly how to tell him about Eyebrow Boy upon said return. Ought to be fun. Wonder if he'll get jealous of this one like he did Mr. Boink Buddy.
Bets anyone?
I was ruminating on "Why the fuck did I kiss him?" once again this morning and the light bulb over my head lit up (for once. Pre-coffee even.).
Essendo sempre la ragazza chi provoca ma non conclude neinte diventà ogni tanto veramente due palle
In other words: Being the resident look-but-don't-touch cocktease gets really old sometimes.
(Of course I know kissing the poor guy only teased the poor bastard further but I obviously wasn't thinking along those lines at the time)
And as Shithead called this morning before he heads out of town and will be calling when he returns to Rome next week, I get to figure out exactly how to tell him about Eyebrow Boy upon said return. Ought to be fun. Wonder if he'll get jealous of this one like he did Mr. Boink Buddy.
Bets anyone?
18 October 2004
Oh Dear.
I broke a minor rule of mine. Well, not rule per se, more like a corollary of a corollary of a rule.
Rule: Never sleep with someone you work with.
Corollary: Don't kiss friends.
Corollary of the Corollary: Don't kiss friends of friends.
So Saturday night BG & I went out for seafood and then headed back to the pub at work, intending to have a bit of a quiet one. We were both a bit tired, I had my glasses on thanks to the pink eye and neither of us felt like changing to go out. Best laid intentions and all that, around 2am Monkey Boy and Eyebrow Boy show up and persuade us to meet up with Almost Perfect Boy & his new semi-scandalous girlfriend (she's his new waitress) and go dancing at Piper. Without changing. Looking rather dorky.
Monkey Boy is so nicknamed because he climbs all over everything, especially once he starts making unsubtle disappearances to the bathroom.
Eyebrow Boy has some really wicked eyebrows, the kind that give him a rather piercing sguardo. He's been sniffing around me all summer.
Rule: Never sleep with someone you work with.
Corollary: Don't kiss friends.
Corollary of the Corollary: Don't kiss friends of friends.
So Saturday night BG & I went out for seafood and then headed back to the pub at work, intending to have a bit of a quiet one. We were both a bit tired, I had my glasses on thanks to the pink eye and neither of us felt like changing to go out. Best laid intentions and all that, around 2am Monkey Boy and Eyebrow Boy show up and persuade us to meet up with Almost Perfect Boy & his new semi-scandalous girlfriend (she's his new waitress) and go dancing at Piper. Without changing. Looking rather dorky.
Monkey Boy is so nicknamed because he climbs all over everything, especially once he starts making unsubtle disappearances to the bathroom.
Eyebrow Boy has some really wicked eyebrows, the kind that give him a rather piercing sguardo. He's been sniffing around me all summer.
16 October 2004
Currently Chafing Like a Sandpaper Condom:
1) Conjunctivitis
2) The slight vertigo resulting from wearing my glasses due to #1
3) The appearance and subsequent abuse of panini in North American vernicular. As in:
No, you didn't. Either you had A panino or you were a stereotypical fat-assed American and had more than one panini.
For this idiocy, I would hazard a guess we have the same corporate asstards who brought you venti, grande, latte and frappucino to thank.
(Yes, asstards. As in Tards of the Ass. Corporate asstard fucks aren't the only ones who can make up new words. Frappucino? Asstard. Venti latte? Shitpulling staplemonkey. See?)
2) The slight vertigo resulting from wearing my glasses due to #1
3) The appearance and subsequent abuse of panini in North American vernicular. As in:
"I had a pesto and sprout panini today"
No, you didn't. Either you had A panino or you were a stereotypical fat-assed American and had more than one panini.
For this idiocy, I would hazard a guess we have the same corporate asstards who brought you venti, grande, latte and frappucino to thank.
(Yes, asstards. As in Tards of the Ass. Corporate asstard fucks aren't the only ones who can make up new words. Frappucino? Asstard. Venti latte? Shitpulling staplemonkey. See?)
15 October 2004
It's Call Reciprocity Motherfuckers
(Though knowing me I completely fucked the spelling.)
A little bird has told me that certain parties have developed the DT's due to my sparse updating lately.
What's going on:
- I have a 950 page manual in Italian to read by Sunday so I can configure work's new Windows 2003 server.
- I'm thisclose to bitchslapping the BG for various work reasons as wells as the fact that she can't be arsed to used a screwdriver (but can be arsed to kevetch)
- I haven't heard from Shithead.
- I'm on the rag.
- Next week I have an appointment to get my legs waxed, followed by a fun little Pap smear test on Thursday.
- I have just realised that I have:
a work related trip to Athens beginning of December
a trip back to Dallas mid December
a work related trip to Austria beginning of January
and a work related trip to Dublin end of January
which leaves me the rest of this month and next to:
get the new server up and running
get the new management software up and running
redesign our websites
redesign the side project website
redo our flyer
...
Updating sparse? You don't say.
Make y'all a deal. See that little link below that says "Comments"? Gimmee feedback. I don't even know how many faithful readers I have garnered with Google referrals like:
- is it possible to fuck your own belly button? (no)
- bruce willis' belly button (ick?)
- mother daughter perm (one handed typing eh?)
- oozing snatch (ick.)
- leaking belly button (see a doctor people)
- how to get a pretty, hair free belly button (Nair.)
- leotard padding (socks.)
- my belly button lint smells (why the fuck are you sniffing your bellybutton lint?)
So F-E-E-D-B-A-C-K y'all. Gimmee something, anything to bounce off of as my brain is doing the equivalent of the BSOD* on blog topics/entries. And no, you're not really motherfuckers.
I hope.
*Windows infamous Blue Screen of Death
A little bird has told me that certain parties have developed the DT's due to my sparse updating lately.
What's going on:
- I have a 950 page manual in Italian to read by Sunday so I can configure work's new Windows 2003 server.
- I'm thisclose to bitchslapping the BG for various work reasons as wells as the fact that she can't be arsed to used a screwdriver (but can be arsed to kevetch)
- I haven't heard from Shithead.
- I'm on the rag.
- Next week I have an appointment to get my legs waxed, followed by a fun little Pap smear test on Thursday.
- I have just realised that I have:
a work related trip to Athens beginning of December
a trip back to Dallas mid December
a work related trip to Austria beginning of January
and a work related trip to Dublin end of January
which leaves me the rest of this month and next to:
get the new server up and running
get the new management software up and running
redesign our websites
redesign the side project website
redo our flyer
...
Updating sparse? You don't say.
Make y'all a deal. See that little link below that says "Comments"? Gimmee feedback. I don't even know how many faithful readers I have garnered with Google referrals like:
- is it possible to fuck your own belly button? (no)
- bruce willis' belly button (ick?)
- mother daughter perm (one handed typing eh?)
- oozing snatch (ick.)
- leaking belly button (see a doctor people)
- how to get a pretty, hair free belly button (Nair.)
- leotard padding (socks.)
- my belly button lint smells (why the fuck are you sniffing your bellybutton lint?)
So F-E-E-D-B-A-C-K y'all. Gimmee something, anything to bounce off of as my brain is doing the equivalent of the BSOD* on blog topics/entries. And no, you're not really motherfuckers.
I hope.
*Windows infamous Blue Screen of Death
12 October 2004
Quickie: Waiting to Exhale
After a hectic trip to Amsterdam weekend before last and organising a minor work conference here in bella Roma this weekend past, I can sort of see the light at the end of the Stress Tunnel. Or at least a brighter dimness. A light gloaming?
Who the fuck am I kidding. It's only slightly less darker than the inside of Satan's asshole*.
Work keeps piling up. I am contemplating the purchase of a computer for home for side projects, but I am really not looking forward to installing a land line for the necessary Internet connection. I have tangled with Telecom Italia before and they make ACEA look like bloody rocket scientists sent down from on High amidst singing cherubim and seraphim.
On the plus side, during the conference my boss volunteered me for a work trip to Athens, which should take place either the end of this month or the beginning of December.
Living with the BG is proving to be a bit challenging, in the sense that I see her 24-7 now. And maybe she's also currently hormonally unbalanced, but I swear to GodInexistant I'm about ready to slap her upside the head. Preferably with a loaded IKEA box. Maybe then she would understand that using a screwdriver is not that fucking difficult?
Shithead has neatly placed himself on my ShitList once again. After I had warned him last Sunday that I was busy for the rest of the week either organising for or being at the conference, he texted me Friday whinging about how stressed out he was and if I was in the neighbourhood I should stop by so he could tell me about it. When I curtly replied that he had obviously forgotten that I was Rather Fucking Busy this weekend, he decided to joke that I must be busy because I had forgotten to send him a kiss.
We are not amused.
I put off replying back, thinking maybe the hormornes were causing the lack of humour. Sunday rolled around, and well shucks, I still wasn't amused by that little I'm-Emotionally-Needy-Oops-Just-Joking-Aren't-I-Cute Gag. I sent him my first text.
So what are all these 'problems'? Another accident, the tax boogeymen, another kid, or Viagra is insufficient for all your lovers?
He gets appropriately pissed off (entirely too easy) and asks what's gotten into me.
Too bad karma is biting you on the ass again, but i didn't find your little joke about the kiss very amusing & so I made a little joke of my own. The next time you make a shitty joke about a forgotten kiss after having bitched about being really stressed out & busy, try to pull yourself out of the center of the universe and remember that you have already been advised that others are also stressed out and busy.
I am the center of the universe, dammit. Sometimes you little people just need reminding. Of course i'm joking (somewhat), but I did feel less cranky after my little SMSrant.
*(Please excuse any hyperactive mood swings in this entry. I am on the rag and the hormones are going on their monthly rickety rollercoaster ride wearing a very frayed lap belt...)
Who the fuck am I kidding. It's only slightly less darker than the inside of Satan's asshole*.
Work keeps piling up. I am contemplating the purchase of a computer for home for side projects, but I am really not looking forward to installing a land line for the necessary Internet connection. I have tangled with Telecom Italia before and they make ACEA look like bloody rocket scientists sent down from on High amidst singing cherubim and seraphim.
On the plus side, during the conference my boss volunteered me for a work trip to Athens, which should take place either the end of this month or the beginning of December.
Living with the BG is proving to be a bit challenging, in the sense that I see her 24-7 now. And maybe she's also currently hormonally unbalanced, but I swear to GodInexistant I'm about ready to slap her upside the head. Preferably with a loaded IKEA box. Maybe then she would understand that using a screwdriver is not that fucking difficult?
Shithead has neatly placed himself on my ShitList once again. After I had warned him last Sunday that I was busy for the rest of the week either organising for or being at the conference, he texted me Friday whinging about how stressed out he was and if I was in the neighbourhood I should stop by so he could tell me about it. When I curtly replied that he had obviously forgotten that I was Rather Fucking Busy this weekend, he decided to joke that I must be busy because I had forgotten to send him a kiss.
We are not amused.
I put off replying back, thinking maybe the hormornes were causing the lack of humour. Sunday rolled around, and well shucks, I still wasn't amused by that little I'm-Emotionally-Needy-Oops-Just-Joking-Aren't-I-Cute Gag. I sent him my first text.
So what are all these 'problems'? Another accident, the tax boogeymen, another kid, or Viagra is insufficient for all your lovers?
He gets appropriately pissed off (entirely too easy) and asks what's gotten into me.
Too bad karma is biting you on the ass again, but i didn't find your little joke about the kiss very amusing & so I made a little joke of my own. The next time you make a shitty joke about a forgotten kiss after having bitched about being really stressed out & busy, try to pull yourself out of the center of the universe and remember that you have already been advised that others are also stressed out and busy.
I am the center of the universe, dammit. Sometimes you little people just need reminding. Of course i'm joking (somewhat), but I did feel less cranky after my little SMSrant.
*(Please excuse any hyperactive mood swings in this entry. I am on the rag and the hormones are going on their monthly rickety rollercoaster ride wearing a very frayed lap belt...)
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