Honey, You've Got Another Think Coming

Beyond making for a good yarn, I really don't care about your past. I care about who you are now.

....

I'd been craving martinis for almost two weeks, and on Wednesday, I decided to do something about that. So I got all dressed up and went to the Ren and ordered myself a chocolatini. Cheryl, the barkeep and my good twin, made me one, but not the normal variety. Instead, it was a milky white, and tasted delicious in a sweet and somewhat salty sort of way. I call it Easter Bunny Cum. I told her this, and she laughed. She also gave me an articulated finger claw thingermabob. What are those things called? I don't really know. But it is over the top, shiny, and pokey.

I wandered back to the DJ booth to stash my jacket and saw a man standing there expectantly. "Are you the DJ?" he asked.

"No," I said. I pointed to schwartzung. "He is."

"I want to make a request," he said. "But I gotta say, you look very nice." He extended his hand to shake mine and introduced himself.

I thanked him for the compliment and went on my merry way.

The thing is, three or four more times that evening, the guy re-introduced himself to me, and each time the compliments became more fulsome.

Finally, when I was sitting by myself on a couch, I saw him making a beeline towards me. "Oh dear," I thought to myself, because it was all getting a bit uncomfortable.

"Hi!" he said, proffering his hand. Once again, I shook his hand, and once again, he introduced himself. "Say, um, do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"No!" I said, rather disingenuously. A beat passed. "I have a husband."

And the poor guy said, "Oh," turned, and left the club.

Oh dear.

I hate playing the trump card. It always feels so cheap.

The night took a bizarre turn a bit later when a woman sat across from me and made rude sniping comments to me, which I ignored. Later on, I found she was trying to stir up some drama by telling on of my friends that I was trying to steal that friend's boyfriend away. Give me a fucking break. Why on earth would a thirty-something woman try to pull off such high school antics? That's just sad. It is also the first time someone has tried to create drama about me in a decade or so. My friend didn't believe it for a second, of course, and called her on it. Sheesh.

Stephen Thrasher did a great job. Their music is eminently danceable, and Reanie's stage presence and Stephen's singing have greatly improved since the last time I saw them. Great job, guys! You rocked the casbah....

I was gifted with two more martinis that night, so my cravings have been sated. Martinis, however, leave me in bizarre territory. Although I don't have a flirtatious bone in my body, when I drink a martini, something miraculous happens, and I am transformed into some sort of a flirt monster. Not wanting to do something outrageous, I turned to my buddy Carrie and said, "You're safe!" and hugged the shit out of her. I find it interesting how different drinks have completely different effects on me. Good thing I didn't have absinthe, or I might have started a bar fight.

When Cheryl kicked us out, the party gravitated to my place. schwartzung and Ian (from Hamilton) returned with me and subjected me to cruel abuse (and a tasty omelette), playing video after horrid video of what have to be some of the worst singers in the history of the world. It hurt so much I was in tears, rolling on the floor, banging my head on things. And yes, you should expect a post linking to some of these videos, because such aural assault should not be suffered by me alone. You'll listen to it, and you will suck it up, thank me, and ask for more.

My night finally ended around 10:30 in the morning, by which point my migraine hallucinations had expanded to new proportions. At night, when I'm in the darkness and am somewhat tired, I see halos around items, particularly around vertical straight edges. It is something of an echo effect, so if I'm looking at a pole, for instance, I will see multiple images of that pole, moving off into the distance and gradually fading. By 10:30 in the morning, I was seeing these in the daylight for the first time. I was also confusing my chinchillas with cats, so it was a good thing I got some sleep.

I had to get up three hours later for an appointment with a lung specialist. When he checked my lung capacity, he gave me some excellent news. On my current medication dose, my lungs register as those of a normal, healthy person. He also confirmed my suspicion that my feelings of strength, stamina, and general invincibility earlier this month were indeed what I ought to feel like when my lungs are at 100% efficiency. Huzzah!

After hearing this good news, I went back home and crashed.

I'm feeling well-rested today. Are you?

Dink Lump

Links? Links? Ok.

Links.

Don't click this. NSFW. You've been warned (thanks, warrenellis).

Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Anal Piercing But Were Afraid To Ask: "Women have their pussies pierced, and so I thought I would look sexier if I had such jewelry in my ass-pussy as well."

Daredevil Evel Knievel dead at 69: He was an icon of my youth. I remember watching his stunts as a little kid.

'I'm A Pervert,' Burglary Suspect Says: There's no mention about whether or not maggots were involved.

Barf Bags Don't Work at 0 Gs: Oops (thanks, f00dave).

Study: Canadian Beer Drinkers Threaten Planet: Oh, Fox. I love your unbiased and professional approach to news reporting (thanks, Benoit).

Bike sex man placed on probation: So a guy is having sweet, sweet love with his bike in his bedroom and gets walked in on and subsequently charged. Frankly, I don't see how any charge could stick. I mean, aside from it being a bike, how is this any different from him fucking something from the local sex shop? Odd (thanks, Ken).

Ok. Gotta go pretend to be a vampire again. Ta....