"ACCEPT YOURSELF"
At about 4:30 am, I was having a dream that I was talking about my brother's recent travels in South America (fictional), and how I suspected he'd brought back a strange frog with him. As I was describing the dream, I heard the frog flapping around, so I turned off the lights and tried to find him, hoping to return the frog to my brother, nearly 1,000 miles away (not fictional). So I was in the dark, trying to find a frog (Dunno why I thought being n the dark would help my chances of finding the frog) and dreamed that he (the frog) suddenly started flopping around and jumping all over, so when I (not dream me, but actual me) thought something hit my chest, I woke up and jumped out of bed with a little scream. Kitty meowed and hopped onto the dresser, I flipped on the light and quickly realized, after shaking out all the covers in a dreamy-haze, there was no South American frog in my apartment.
I read a magazine for a bit until my heart rate returned to normal, then fell back asleep and started dreaming about trying to get crated artwork on a plane as a carry-on with a group of people.
Hi kids, how the effing eff are youse? So, I suppose I should catch you up:
Turns out, Needle-In-Chest/Lung is less pleasant than Needle-In-Boob. But, I'm okay. I'm always okay. I don't have breast cancer and I sho' don't have breast cancer that got over-ambitious and fashioned itself into lung cancer. I don't have anything. I'm good, great even, and I am over needles for the time being.
Speaking of boobage, check out what Goaty sent me: Right here. It's funny how this boob ordeal has changed my thinking a little about boobs. Stuff like this is really amazing to me all of a sudden, where it would have probably just been too-lame-to-think-about before. Now, I get this feeling... having played out scenarios in my head of being boobless, and brainstorming every think I possibly can to keep them just on and healthy, boob slings and implants and shit, outside of a reconstructive purpose, just really seems so extra weird to me, like listening to people speak a language I can't speak at all.
Anyway.
I got a lot done in the past week, most of which I'm proud of, and I have two fun new projects coming up you'll hear about in the next couple of days that I'm super-excited about. As for now, I'm caught up for the time being, so I'm going to sit and write on manuscripts and chill.
But!
I'm still looking to make my website, Guth-a-Go-Go, look like Alton Brown's website, and need a web dude or dudette to make that happen. I don't need anyone to maintain it, per se, just put the bones up and make it rad and I'll keep it updated. That much html I do know. Please, please email with rates and time frame and we'll work it out. So long as it doesn't involve whoring myself, I'd even be willing to work out a trade of some kind. Anything. I just need to get that website hoppin' with a quickness.
9 comments:
"...so I turned off the lights and tried to find him,..."
Lord T'underin' Jaysus girlfriend, you gotta lay off the Wormwood spritzers before bed.
I have noticed that you seem to be doing a tour of both North and South America in your dreams.
We in Canada are chopped liver now eh?
"...my thinking a little about boobs. Stuff like this is really amazing to me all of a sudden,..."
You're not going to start batting for the other side now are you? You and jewgirl represent my last hope in my desperate quest to marry a nice Jewish girl.
Wormwood spritzers, hahahahah! If I could get my hands on it, I'd do it up and sip with a Twizzler for garnish.
Canada is never chopped liver. Bite your tongue! I gots nothin' but love for my pepps to the North.
As for marrying me or Schwartzy, my dear, take a number! Grrls, guys and otherwise are all lined up for us both, lambchop. :)
Did I type "pepps"? I mean "peeps" of course. Doy.
Heh heh heh, you said "boobage."
Last night I dreamed that Lucille Ball lived nearby and we went there for a party, only to find out some man was trying to kill us...the dream turned into an adventuous chase through a playground (I remember hiding under a slide).
I'm really, really glad you don't have breast or lung cancer and that you don't have to get that bra.
Where do I get the number?
chasivah v'chatimah l'tovah, a sweet and happy new year, and so what if that had nothing whatsoever to do with your post.
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