i feel like i'm being erased, no one was sent to get me. i'm so sick of this terrible instinct, it's so hard just to find you. well, i'm fine.

there are those people in the world that keep you sane. then, there are those people in the world that let you know you aren't as big of a fucking nut job as you think you and others may believe. coincidently, those people, even in memory, are the only ones who can make you smile sometimes. these are my people:

• jake, while sitting in temple watching a wedding ceremony: "e, you wouldn't know how to clean a vibrator do you?" "what?" "well, after you use them...do you wash them in soap?" "i have no idea, i'm asexual remember?" "you have to get off somehow, unless you old skool it." i travel light. why not just put a condom on it?" "on a vibrator?" "you put it on your dick and it stays clean, in theory. why not put it on the vibrator?" "i'll see what the woman says." "good. please never talk about your sexcapades with ______ again, it makes me nauseated." "more nauseated then knowing you're in my spank bank?" "you mother fucker." "your mom is in the spank bank too." "oh god. that's so wrong" "yea, you're mom scares the shit out of me" "you're not alone."

• talee, the bride at the aforementioned wedding: "look, i know i'm supposed to throw the bouquet out and one of you bitches is going to catch it and then prance off thinking you're next to go through the hell of planning a wedding, but that ain't happening. i spent too much money on this lovely little bouquet, so if you want it you're going to have to pry it from my cold dead fingers, and that should be a much tougher task to accomplish seeing as i'm now married and he has a legal obligation to step in and stop you. so basically, if you want this bouquet, kill him first...then come after me."

• white sitting and waiting at a cafe for paris:
"you there?" "yes i'm here! you said 6:30, i was here at 6:30, it is now 7:15. you're late by even homo time." "yea, i know. but that guy on your left is so checking you out." "what guy?" "the one on your left. dark green shirt." "oh, yea. he's gay." "gay? really?" "yup. he was complimenting me on my bag, even knew the style name...which i have no idea what it is. he's oogeling my purse, not my goodies." "wow, my gay-dar must be off. do you mind if i hit on him?" "if it means you're going to stop lurking across the street and actually get here? have a fucking blast rainbow bright."

• mark, on the phone with me:
"dude, do you mind if i call you back? i need to get some stank on my hang-low or some head or something, before i go apeshit or have to wack it again, and a total slut just walked into this bitch."

• ryan being his typical dumbass self:
"i need your phone number." "um, then why are you calling me?" "to get your number, dumbass. i'm using you as a reference." "yea...is your helmet on and are you near a window you can lick? you're calling my number to ask me my number, dipshit." "touche! shortbus captain out!"

• e, while watching me clean my toothbrush off after brushing my teeth: "you look like you're giving that thing a handjob, and i'm strangely turned on right now.
  

and now for what you most likely came for:

big blobs of fat conveniently located on my chest, made more "fatty" by leaning over, and offest by a lovely star necklace that finds a resting place inbetween my sweater puppets. if i didn't see them everyday, and maybe if they weren't the sole focus of the predominante portion of male attention i got, i may think they were fucking awesome. either way? there you go, you guys got tits.

and a happy birthday to mr. your name here....i know it's on the 24th, but all you bitches should thank him, for it is for his little birthday that i posted the jumblies.

oh! and to those of you who are of the tribe persuasion, an early l'shana tova to you!! may 5767 be better than 5766....my money's on this downward spiral continuing.

have a good weekend, y'all.