...I am reminded that the running joke between Shithead & I is, in fact, a nickname of sorts.
It's Babyboy.
Now before you hurl violently, please realise this nickname is bantered about with all the seriousness of teaking Robin Williams sitting on a whoopee cushion. At a circus surrounded by Jim Carrey clones in their Ace Ventura persona. In space. With robots. And the Pope holding a pink vibrator.
I digress.
See, Curly has this wee fixation with all things Beyonce Knowles. And by wee, I mean borderline bunny boiler level obsession, except without the psychosis and bad 80's perms.
31 January 2005
29 January 2005
Warning: Approaching Crossroads at Point Blank, Proceed with Extreme Caution
Managed to fight off the flu and Dublin was lovely, though a bit weird in the sense that, as competitors (and I am a very,very competitive person) we did our own things during the competition yet went out together with everyone afterwards. Can't wait for the resulting gossip from that one. Not.
In the "Irritating-Yet-Cute" category, I forgot his penchant for posing me in front of various points of intrest and snapping pics. I hate having my picture taken. I'm not photogenic. And while the occasional snap is ok, posing in front of many tourist sights is so cheesy as to warrant a Ritz cracker the size of Miami. So now he has a bunch of pics where I half-heartedly smirk while trying to avoid the ol' Look-I-Have-No-Chin pose.
Little tidbits flit through my mind but the big news in town is that the night of our return to Rome, he point blank asked me what I thought about our future together.
I hate point blank questions. Especially when the flight home meant we had to be at the airport at five-fucking-o'clock and all I really wanted to do was sleep.
Point blank questions suck all forms of answers right out of my squishy grey matter. *SLUUUURP!*
That's the only thing I can say right now, as the point blank questions keep coming. *SLURP!*
What do you think about our future?
*SLURP!*
In the "Irritating-Yet-Cute" category, I forgot his penchant for posing me in front of various points of intrest and snapping pics. I hate having my picture taken. I'm not photogenic. And while the occasional snap is ok, posing in front of many tourist sights is so cheesy as to warrant a Ritz cracker the size of Miami. So now he has a bunch of pics where I half-heartedly smirk while trying to avoid the ol' Look-I-Have-No-Chin pose.
Little tidbits flit through my mind but the big news in town is that the night of our return to Rome, he point blank asked me what I thought about our future together.
I hate point blank questions. Especially when the flight home meant we had to be at the airport at five-fucking-o'clock and all I really wanted to do was sleep.
Point blank questions suck all forms of answers right out of my squishy grey matter. *SLUUUURP!*
That's the only thing I can say right now, as the point blank questions keep coming. *SLURP!*
What do you think about our future?
*SLURP!*
22 January 2005
The Perils of Swapping Bodily Fliuds
subtitle: Maybe Dublin won't be that fun after all.
I think Shithead has given me the remnants of last week's stomach flu. I'm feeling distinctly pale and light headed. This morning's cappuccino had to spar a bit to stay in my stomach (I woke up feeling a bit groggy but put it down to a bad sleep). The thought of food is making me vaguely queasy.
Any wisearses out there who want to suggest that this might only be a bout of morning sickness can kindly shove it up their bums as I am also bleeding out the crotch and crampy.
I don't get sick often, but it never fails to coincide with my period. Methinks I might need some more iron or something in my diet when Aunt Flo's visit is nigh.
I'll beat Shithead to within an inch of his life for getting me sick when I have more energy.
In the meantime I'll be spouting my (almost)never-fail Getting-Sick Mantra:
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
....
I think Shithead has given me the remnants of last week's stomach flu. I'm feeling distinctly pale and light headed. This morning's cappuccino had to spar a bit to stay in my stomach (I woke up feeling a bit groggy but put it down to a bad sleep). The thought of food is making me vaguely queasy.
Any wisearses out there who want to suggest that this might only be a bout of morning sickness can kindly shove it up their bums as I am also bleeding out the crotch and crampy.
I don't get sick often, but it never fails to coincide with my period. Methinks I might need some more iron or something in my diet when Aunt Flo's visit is nigh.
I'll beat Shithead to within an inch of his life for getting me sick when I have more energy.
In the meantime I'll be spouting my (almost)never-fail Getting-Sick Mantra:
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
....
21 January 2005
The Dog Ate My HomeworkBlog
Yar.
Okay, I have no idea where that came from. Apparently the PMS is entering the Pirate Mood Swing. Yar. Yar, I say.
Anyways, I apologise for the sparseness and brevity entries around these here parts, but I have yet another work trip coming up on Sunday and am still trying to wade through the backlog created by the Austria trip.
Off to Dublin this time, which is a bloody nice change from the annual Damn-It-Can't-They-Choose-Another-City London jaunt which has gone tits up. This trip should be fun because:
Okay, I have no idea where that came from. Apparently the PMS is entering the Pirate Mood Swing. Yar. Yar, I say.
Anyways, I apologise for the sparseness and brevity entries around these here parts, but I have yet another work trip coming up on Sunday and am still trying to wade through the backlog created by the Austria trip.
Off to Dublin this time, which is a bloody nice change from the annual Damn-It-Can't-They-Choose-Another-City London jaunt which has gone tits up. This trip should be fun because:
17 January 2005
Thus Spake the Henchwoman
The Resident Dictator's Henchwoman aka DerMiddleSis* has fallen prey to the gaping blackhole that is blogging.
One of Us! One of Us!
Go on. Check out Tree Swinger - you know you want to.
*No officer, I haven't been in Germany nor Austria recently. Why do you ask?
One of Us! One of Us!
Go on. Check out Tree Swinger - you know you want to.
*No officer, I haven't been in Germany nor Austria recently. Why do you ask?
15 January 2005
Ditto the last entry's title
I'm still walking funny, but for different reasons this time.
As a pressie to myself, I stayed an extra two days in a small Austrian town to attempt snowboarding.
I apparently have really bad taste in presents.
And I wouldn't call what i did on the mountainside 'snowboarding'; maybe 'buttboarding' or 'throwing-myself-down-a-mountain-boarding'.
'Twas fun, though, despite the fact large parts of my body are coloured shades heretofore unknown to mankind and it hurts to type, sit, breathe, etc.
More when I can type better.
As a pressie to myself, I stayed an extra two days in a small Austrian town to attempt snowboarding.
I apparently have really bad taste in presents.
And I wouldn't call what i did on the mountainside 'snowboarding'; maybe 'buttboarding' or 'throwing-myself-down-a-mountain-boarding'.
'Twas fun, though, despite the fact large parts of my body are coloured shades heretofore unknown to mankind and it hurts to type, sit, breathe, etc.
More when I can type better.
10 January 2005
Still Walking Funny...
...and I've made out like a bandit for my birthday today. I got (more) Ikea shelves for my room, Dr. Pepper(!) and a DVD player from the work buddies, superwoman adult underoos and Dr. Pepper lipsmackers from my flatmate.
Shithead? Well he too had gotten me a DVD player (Ti ho preso un piccolo penserino...!!!) but that was quickly exchanged for a 14 inch TV/VCR combo. I'll be just the slightest bit tacky here and whinge that the TV is bright yellow, making my very red room into a subtle homage to the calcio squad I detest the most, A.S. Roma aka i giallozozzi
(Who finally got their asses soundly kicked in the Lazio/Roma derby the night of the 6th. HAHA! Best.Advanced.Birthday.Present.Evar!!!!)
Still, a Tv's a tv and I've been laughing at old videotapes of Nutcrackers past. Of course the gift of BoobTubage has been accompanied by...
...wait for it...
...I bet you'll never guess...
...Copious Amounts of Nookie. Like, duh. (My 'departure date' was moved up. Imagine that.)
Said Copious Amounts of Nookie once again followed by much discussion of What One wants from the Future and Why Don't We Start a Business Together.
Sei come una cioccolata. Ti piace a mostrare dura, ma un pò di calore e sciogli.
Someone is looking to get serious. He's even started calling me amore again.
The disturbing thing is that I respond to said nickname automatically.
Not going to think about it. Work calls, in the form of a trip to Austria where I am taking an extra two days tofall on my ass repeatedly attempt snowboarding.
Toodles.
Shithead? Well he too had gotten me a DVD player (Ti ho preso un piccolo penserino...!!!) but that was quickly exchanged for a 14 inch TV/VCR combo. I'll be just the slightest bit tacky here and whinge that the TV is bright yellow, making my very red room into a subtle homage to the calcio squad I detest the most, A.S. Roma aka i giallozozzi
(Who finally got their asses soundly kicked in the Lazio/Roma derby the night of the 6th. HAHA! Best.Advanced.Birthday.Present.Evar!!!!)
Still, a Tv's a tv and I've been laughing at old videotapes of Nutcrackers past. Of course the gift of BoobTubage has been accompanied by...
...wait for it...
...I bet you'll never guess...
...Copious Amounts of Nookie. Like, duh. (My 'departure date' was moved up. Imagine that.)
Said Copious Amounts of Nookie once again followed by much discussion of What One wants from the Future and Why Don't We Start a Business Together.
Sei come una cioccolata. Ti piace a mostrare dura, ma un pò di calore e sciogli.
Someone is looking to get serious. He's even started calling me amore again.
The disturbing thing is that I respond to said nickname automatically.
Not going to think about it. Work calls, in the form of a trip to Austria where I am taking an extra two days to
Toodles.
06 January 2005
La Befana e Le Petit Mort
Once again it's time for la befana to leave coal for the naughty girls and boys and goodies for the good ones.
I must have been a good girl this year 'cause my stocking got stuffed but good. And I am completely fucking freaked out about it.
Shithead stopped by my place last night as his dinner plans "had been changed." Gee. Imagine that. For my next trick, I think I'll have him jump through a few flaming hoops before balancing on his head - all blindfolded, though I guess the blindfold would be a bit redundant in a certain sense.
Fast forward to the part where I'm getting my stocking stuffed, so to speak. Now le petit mort, the French term for orgasm, i have always found to be quite apt, especially when I hear the very rare, yet very entertaining stories of "I came so hard I passed out." We've already explored my talent for creating a puddle of female jism in past blog entries, and I have, on occasion, climaxed so hard that I've pissed myself (yeah. oops. TMI). But I have never had an orgasm so strong that it knocked me out cold.
Until last night.
I must have been a good girl this year 'cause my stocking got stuffed but good. And I am completely fucking freaked out about it.
Shithead stopped by my place last night as his dinner plans "had been changed." Gee. Imagine that. For my next trick, I think I'll have him jump through a few flaming hoops before balancing on his head - all blindfolded, though I guess the blindfold would be a bit redundant in a certain sense.
Fast forward to the part where I'm getting my stocking stuffed, so to speak. Now le petit mort, the French term for orgasm, i have always found to be quite apt, especially when I hear the very rare, yet very entertaining stories of "I came so hard I passed out." We've already explored my talent for creating a puddle of female jism in past blog entries, and I have, on occasion, climaxed so hard that I've pissed myself (yeah. oops. TMI). But I have never had an orgasm so strong that it knocked me out cold.
Until last night.
05 January 2005
Zee Bitch is Back Darlins
Yes yes dearies, the trip back to D-town was peachy keen even though it has resulted in exclamations of "Dahling!" being transmogrified into "Darlin!" and I still am having problems touch typing and sleeping.
Tequila was plentiful as were other alcohol treats, though the price tag on a shitty bottle of Valpolicella nearly gave me a coronary. And I ate enough Mexican food to ensure that I will be able to Dutch Oven our dear Sig. Shithead for at least another month. Ole.
Not olestra. Dear christ, I was inundated with Fat Free, Carb Free, Taste Free, Intelligence Free (but 100% all Natural Chemicals) products and tasteless produce the size of a Ethiopian child's head. Even your Evian tastes funny. What have you all done with the food?
And what the fuck are y'all doing with the clothing sizes? i know i've dropped two (Italian) sizes since living here, thanks to no food additives and no personal means of transportation apart from my feet, but there is no fucking way in hell I have dropped from a size 6 to a size 0 in Gap jeans, people.
(yes, sis, I should have exchanged the 2's for 0's instead of 1's; I forgot that jeans stretch after you've worn them for 30 minutes. Please enclose any poison in a can of Dr. Pepper. Thanks)
Oh and let me just reiterate that Delta Airlines may lick my Mexican-Food encrusted asshole for all eternity. Thanks.
And abstinence does make the heart grow fonder, or at least the pocket salami grow bigger as multiple orgasms were promptly induced by Shithead a mere few hours after my return.
Tequila was plentiful as were other alcohol treats, though the price tag on a shitty bottle of Valpolicella nearly gave me a coronary. And I ate enough Mexican food to ensure that I will be able to Dutch Oven our dear Sig. Shithead for at least another month. Ole.
Not olestra. Dear christ, I was inundated with Fat Free, Carb Free, Taste Free, Intelligence Free (but 100% all Natural Chemicals) products and tasteless produce the size of a Ethiopian child's head. Even your Evian tastes funny. What have you all done with the food?
And what the fuck are y'all doing with the clothing sizes? i know i've dropped two (Italian) sizes since living here, thanks to no food additives and no personal means of transportation apart from my feet, but there is no fucking way in hell I have dropped from a size 6 to a size 0 in Gap jeans, people.
(yes, sis, I should have exchanged the 2's for 0's instead of 1's; I forgot that jeans stretch after you've worn them for 30 minutes. Please enclose any poison in a can of Dr. Pepper. Thanks)
Oh and let me just reiterate that Delta Airlines may lick my Mexican-Food encrusted asshole for all eternity. Thanks.
And abstinence does make the heart grow fonder, or at least the pocket salami grow bigger as multiple orgasms were promptly induced by Shithead a mere few hours after my return.
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