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Seething Cakes of Hatred

Making pancakes, as I learned at AP's birthday bash at the beach this weekend, is an unbelievably tedious chore. I don't know why I...

Monday, August 16, 2004

No Wire Hangers!

A lot of people think the best line in Mommie Dearest is the wire hanger rant. Actually, the best line in the movie is, "Don't fuck with me fellas. This ain't my first time at the rodeo."

Just so you know.

I went over to The Politician's house last night and had a great time with him and his boyfriend, The Dancer. The Executive was also present. BoBo made conversation, thankfully, because I soon realized I had consumed too much alcohol (accidentally) and couldn't really hold an intelligent conversation. I think we talked about boats. That's about all I remember. I think I ate pork too. Hidden in the potstickers were brown chunks of meat. Well, they were hidden until I bit into the golden morsels of greasy goodness.

I fear I am losing my compassion for animals. I also let a bee die this weekend. It wouldn't leave The Handsome Prince and I alone as we played cribbage in The Vortex, so I didn't save him when he landed in my Cape Cod. I moved the glass out into the middle of the yard so that I couldn't hear his screams as he drowned in the cocktail. I feel guilty.

I finally beat THP at cribbage. It made me so happy that I swept the porch and cleaned off the patio table.

This is the dullest blog entry ever. Maybe I will try again later. This is what happens to my writing when I employ filters.

Something huge and horribly blogworthy happened this weekend, and I can't blog about it because some of the people involved in the story read the Toaster Oven. I want to blog about it so badly that my fingers itch. But I would have to reveal horrible dark secrets, and I just can't. I am evil enough to let a bee drown, but not evil enough to expose others' private lives. Not yet.

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