August 27, 2005


Maybe everyone else has spam filters that regulate on it, so maybe you are not getting this, but starting last week, I started getting spams about a place to meet sex-o-holics online or in person. Every time I get one, I keep thinking of this , which I know is not what they are actually advertising.

This is the part of the night where we bump the BALT-HOUSE (Rod Lee, vol.5 if you must ask) loudly, and prance around trying to figure out if these heels are too "whorish" to meet the mother of the boy-who-is-my-friend.

In a tangentally related anecdote of no importance: Today I was sitting non the stoop, talking to Brendan, animated and dishy as ever, on the phone and this happened:
"Hey, Brendan, I might have to go. My boyfriend --
(friend who is a boy stops dead in his tracks, jaw swings open like a garden gate. We both exchange "Oh shit?!" looks)
-- sorry my friend, who is also a boy, is walking through my yard right now wearing what appears to be nothing but a kimono bathrobe open to the waist, cowboy boots and blueblocker sunglasses."
Brendan: "Rippersville, dude.That is a tight look."
(pause) No, wait, I don't have to go... he just walked past me. Yeah, I think he is just here to get his laundry.
Brendan: "Whoa, you let him do laundry at your house?! How long have you been together?"
Most of the summer.
Brendan: "yeah.. That's totes intense."

Posted by Jessica at August 27, 2005 08:49 PM | TrackBack