Drinking Grown Up Soda ginger ale. Making me very burpy.

No one ever calls me sir.

One time when mr. flea and I were walking to work hand-in-hand wearing big coats, the nasty homeless woman on Calhoun said, "Good morning, faggots!" (Note, there were multiple homeless people on our commute most days, most of whom were pleasant-to-unobtrusive; this one woman was really nasty all the time.)

Were you guys walking woodenly?

Were you guys walking woodenly?

Or tinderly?

the nasty homeless woman on Calhoun

I was gonna ask -- which one?

(Note, there were multiple homeless people on our commute most days, most of whom were pleasant-to-unobtrusive; this one woman was really nasty all the time.)

But then I read this, and I'm glad they're not all nasty.

(I always liked the dude who would offer to tell you a joke for a buck. I mean, I like getting something for my money, and sometimes the jokes were even funny!)

Actually, I was wrong; that happened on Ludlow, right by the Graeter's. There was a young homeless woman who lived in the bus shelter on the corner with Clifton all winter that year, and it was damned cold.

Timelies, folks.

My first boyfriend thought I was a dyke at first, due to my short spiky hairstyle. This encapsulates how I became World's Champeen at NGA rather nicely.

For the record, I hate everyone today. You're all being too stupid.

For the record, I hate everyone today.

Hmph. See if anything nice shows up your email later, missy.

I'm having a Very Monday Monday. But I'm baking once the eggs and butter are room temp, which will be good. Also listening to "Forget You" very loud, on repeat.