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.

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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.



New Year's eve saw Curly and I throwing a dinner party at the flat with Mr. Almost Perfect, Gibbon, Miss Drinks the Russian Army Under the Table (who has hooked up with) Eyebrow Boy and Vaccum Nose, thusly named for the mass quantities of drugs he inhales on a constant basis. Eyebrow Boy had vouched for Vacuum Nose's good behaviour, which is a mistake i won't be making in the future. Call me a party pooper, but I just don't think snorting your equivalent body weight in Peruvian flake is the wisest way to mourn one's dead friend who died from an overdose.

Though maybe it's just me? No? Really, you don't say...

Shithead showed up around 11.15-ish and we all toasted in the New Year with choice champers brought by Mr. Almost Perfect. Felt a bit weird to kiss Shithead for New Year's, to be honest. Weird in the dejà vu-slash-Omigod-I'm-kissing-him-in-front-of-all-my-friends-for-the-first-time way, as this group of friends I met not long after the Nuclear Relationship Armageddon.

Vacuum Nose was (unbeknownst to him) shoved out the door to go dancing with Miss DRAUT, Eyebrow Boy, and Gibbon at some shitty overpriced locale in Testacchio. Curly, Mr. Almost Perfect, Shithead & I smoked a bit until Curly passed out and Mr. Almost Perfect left to meet up with some other friends. Shithead & I went to Luca Semprefatto's place to meet up with Marco Bevecomeunaspugna & Carlo Mazzoquantoseidimagrito until my eyes, too, began to cross. At which point we headed back to my place for hot New Years monkey sex. After which I vaguely remember getting a second wind, which resulted in Shithead exclaiming

Mi sento violentato

the following day. Go me.

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To recap things a bit: I saw Shithead every day for a week and a half before I left for Dallas. Upon return, I have seen him every day once again, either at my place or his.

Hmm.

Last night I did not feel like spending the second night in a row at his place and i sent a diplomatic SMS informing him of my impending unarrival. He replies informing me that he'll see me on the 6th as tonight he has dinner with the Ex That Had Left and Come Back (Return of the Ex?), her sister and the sister's husband.

Hmm. Gettin' a bit presumptuous there, aren't we darlin'?

So in the intrest of a) reminding him that I ain't his little Call-Girl-on-Hold and B)Jesus Christ a little breathing room please, I told him I was going to the stadium on the 6th and was thusly B.U.S.Y, buster, and reminded him that the following day I would be out of town until the 15th, so toodles darling and see you when I get back.

All of which is true, except I so lied about my departure date.

I couldn't help it. It was a spontaneous act of slightly malicious self preservation. I have a shitload of work to get done before my actual departure date anyway (the 11th) as well as a birthday to celebrate (the 10th). I really am not in the mood to deal with the machinations of Sig. Clings When It's Convenient Shithead at present time.

Predictably, as always happens when reminded of his current status of Mere Convenience, he called to whine upon receipt of said SMS. And he called today to whine about how he assumed we'd watch the Roma-Lazio derby together tomorrow.

I checked. There's no way to translate the whole "When you assume you make an ass..." saying into Italian.

Pity.