2003-06-10 - 9:28 a.m.
A few nights ago, I went over to Josh's apartment, in the never ending effort to be "social". I shouldn't have gone; I was already feeling crabby and depressed. No particular reason. Or maybe it was the UTI I've been trying to stave off that was making me irritable. I went over and drank a beer and sat on the recliner while everyone made fun of the James Bond movie we were watching. Sean hit me on the head with the Nerf Crotch Bat. There was a giant mosquito on the wall. Josh told me I looked like shit and no one was chaining me here. I left. As I drove away I thought, well I would have rather gone and proven to myself that it sucked rather than have gone to sleep with the question: what if Josh's apartment was the funnest place EVER tonight?
Yesterday in the morning I went to go play mini putt with Woodke. I was still irritable and I have trouble being around Woodke when I'm not in tip top emotional shape. His very presence irritates me. It's not his fault; he's just mildly supercilious and pretentious and it makes me want to kick him in the balls. Or kick his ass at mini putt. The very first hole took me 7 strokes and him only 2, which didn't improve my mood. I lost the game miserably. BUT! A miracle occured on the putt putt course.
This place we went to has a lot of phallic symbols on some of the holes, as obstacles. I don't understand how a self-professed family fun center was able to get away with all of these very obviously penis shaped shafts all over the place. As soon as we started getting to the holes with the penises all over them, I started to feel better, because come on! The absurdity of it! I love it. One hole had 3 staggered penises and the hole was right behind one of the dicks. I putted my ball down the little fairway and it headed straight towards a penis, but then miraculously curved around it and then curved back, right into the hole. A hole in one!
That mini putt place is the coolest. Even if I lose I still consider it a successful outing when I go there. All the penises are too funny.
I got part of the night off last night and Jon took me out to Outback. He sold his truck and had some extra cash. The meal was delicious. I love good food. I love the feeling of desiring something so strongly, and then you receive it and it's exactly what you wanted, or better. Food does that every time, especially at Outback. The chocolate thunder from down under is better than my memories of it EVERY TIME! I felt the meal was so noteworthy it was worth recording for future reference.
Jon and I were talking about being paid for sex, and of course Thailand came up. I will never be able to relate all of the humor in this, or how hilarious this is to me, but he started telling me about this place where you pay and then go lay down, and they lower this midget in a basket down on to you, so the midget can twirl around in a circle. A MIDGET IN A BASKET! Once I stopped laughing enough to talk, I asked why a midget? And he just said, because smaller people are easier to lift. Deadpan. I was in hysterics. I'm probably going to politically correct hell for this, but something about midgets makes me laugh and I have a hard time taking them seriously. I saw a midget in a wheelchair once and I laughed for days, and each time I laughed I was very embarassed about it because it's so wrong! but sooo funny!
And speaking of bodily oddities, I had all my pubic hair shaved off yesterday. I'm 12 years old again! I don't think I care for it but I'll keep it this way for awhile just to make sure it's not habit that's making me dislike it. An unforseen side effect of this is that when I go to the bathroom the piss is going all over the place, like the pubes kept it in a straight line before but now that they're gone it's a urine free for all. Just something I'm going to have to learn to have more control over. So OF COURSE what do I have this morning but... a Urinalysis. I pissed all over the cup, on the floor, all over my hand... sigh. Then I started thinking about the midget in a basket for some reason and started giggling. I can only imagine what SSG Engilsh thought... here I am, spraying urine all over the place, and laughing and I'm sure looking like I'm really enjoying it.
I feel a little weird writing down that life's episode in a public diary, but what the hell.
Man I feel politically correct this morning. Feeling bad about midget humor? Wondering how appropriate the debate about shaved off pubic hair is for this medium? Too much wine last night I guess.