tony pierce.com + mary!
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nothing in here is true

 


   Sunday, June 29, 2003  
being the holy day, today we're going to outright steal something from someone else's blog because it's wonderful.

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

Not at all interesting:

I know you all love my inane blather so much that you haven't really missed the inclusion of photos in my posts, but I have decided to bring them back because, well, I like looking at celebrities of either gender in low-cut ensembles, so you are just going to have to deal with it.

This weekend I wasn't very productive. I basically just spent a lot of time sleeping fitfully because it's so fucking hot on the third floor of my loft, but there is no other place for me to sleep so I just turn the fan to the highest setting, point it at myself and then grab onto something so I don't get blown off the bed. I did go out and get my friend Karen some bourbon for her birthday present, because nothing says friendship like hard liquor. Her birthday party was funtimes and I got to reconnect with a couple of ladies that I think are pretty kickass, and since I'm now a freewheelin' single gal, I'm glad I have some other freewheelin' single gals to hang out with when we go out somewhere, because really, if you are a single gal and you go out by yourself you're really not all that freewheelin'.

Yesterday I took the day off work because I really needed a fucking day off already. Plus, I had an appointment for a physical, and sometimes physicals are kind of traumatic, so I wanted to have the rest of the day off in case I needed to recover from all the horrific poking and prodding. Fortunately there wasn't much poking and there was very little prodding. I think my regular doctor saves all the prodding action for my gynecologist, which I will be sure to describe for you in detail after my next pap smear. Anyway, I got a clean bill of health except for my dirty bastard of a stomach, but I already knew that was fucked up so I wasn't really surprised. My doctor thinks that all of my stomach problems are due to a sensitivity to wheat gluten, which permeates the very soul of our culture and is extremely hard to avoid, so she is sending me to a gastroenterologist to have my gutmeats examined. I think that all my stomach problems can probably be traced to my rampant alcoholism and tendency to internalize all of my stress to the point where I think my brainmeats might implode, but I'm no doctor, so I'll go see the gut dude. In any case, as far as my doctor is concerned, I am totally and completely normal and healthy.

She didn't examine my other four personalities, though, so I guess there will always be some doubt as to my true overall health status.

dirtyfez.com


Previously on busblog...