i'm living in a lie and i won't be on your side. i love you a lot, i need you a lot, but you need to remember to close the door when you're leaving me

dear nipples,
we've had a good relationship thus far, and i know it's probably shocking that out of all the body parts i have issues with i'm bitching about you, a body part i really shouldn't have issues with...you're adequately sized, you're nice looking, you are pretty compliant to my needs...you even have sensation, which almost every doctor said would be damn near impossible...so, really, i adore you. but here's the thing: what the fuck is up with you going all attention-whore on my ass when we're in the gym? huh?! is there a reason you're all rock hard and trying to make your presence known in a room that is by no means cold? is there something that turns you on about lifting weights, or me getting my ass kicked in the ring? [okay, i can relate to that, cause i'm a hornball after practice] ...are you a part of some secret spell my mom put on me to help me attract male attention? what is it?! what can i do to make you stop going to full attention the minute i set foot in a gym? and may i just add, i'm way fucking impressed that you can make your presence beyond known through three sports bras...aside from being pissed that you do that, i'm so proud of you neeples!!

smoochies! and i'm trying to find someone to lick you, i swear.
-the titty master.

dear, uhm, well....readers?
seeing as i put effort into it i figured i should call your attention to the shit that is behind door number two in my sidebar. yes, it's shocking that the icon with horrendous nanny stockings [muppet babies nanny, c'mon now!] and a guitar is where my "top ten" music for the month resides...but, regardless, it's all hyperlinked. i uploaded them all so you can hear 'em. it's a pain in the ass, and if no one gives a fuck..then i'll just go back to a list..but if you, the people, rather like the fact you can hear the absolute crap i listen to...let me know and i'll do it again next month. don't ever say i don't love y'all...tee hee!

much wuv to my blogland homies!
-da buttah

dear jackass that can't be more than five inches from their cell phone at all times,
get the fuck off the exercise machine. i'm well aware of the need to be connected, but if you can't do a half hour of cardio without having your phone right there, then you have fucking issues. what's worse? if you can pick up the phone and have a viable and long-winded conversation while you're doing your cardio there's really no point for you to be on that machine to begin with. and while we're at it, if you're going to be in the cardio theater working out--which is this dark room with a giant screen tv that plays movies you watch while doing cardio--it's really fucking rude to sit there and have a conversation on your phone. it's a movie theater..same rules apply fuck-o.

i don't feel so bad for sweating on you, anymore.
-the chick still on the treadmill when you come in, and when you leave.

dear humanity,
just out of curiosity, what's with everyone thinking i'm a really busy person? i personally think i'm one lazy fuck who doesn't do much...so, i'm just curious as to where people get this idea.

shpanks!
-e.

dear weather,
would it kill you to not be such a schizophrenic cunt? i mean honestly...could you maybe make it sunny during the hours i'm not in class? or, better yet, why not make it sunny in the morning, rather than from five o'clock at night 'til when the sun sets at fucking six o'clock at night, huh? you're walking a thin line, my dear...and it's going from annoying to i will hunt you down and fuck your shit up if you continue to fuck with my mind and circadian rhythm the way you have been these past few weeks. i'm fine with gloomy shitty weather, i'm not fine with it going from sunshine kisses to fucking grim reaper scenic every other hour. oh! and what the fuck was up with it down pouring something fierce the entire time the sun was shining on saturday? sun showers are fantastic and i adore them, but it's not supposed to be torrential flood rains coming down on me while the sun bronzes my shoulders. it's just inherently wrong. it's a logical fallacy, if you will. get back to the fucking program of mild predictability and not being such a royal fucking cunt...or i may have to declare a jihad on your ass.

you've been warned.
-the vengeful little wench.

dear..well, this has nothing to do with anyone really but i'm a stickler for formatting,
this weekend was sofie's second herding gala. yes, i take my dog to herding extravaganzas. it's actually really fun...and it's not like i've got any sort of a social life to begin with, so i'll take any excuse to get out of my apartment. sofie has never had formal training in the ways of the herding, but that shit is seriously genetically programmed into them. no training means she only gets to fuck with the ducks because they have the ability to "fly away"--their wings are clipped, but even with clipped wings they can get decently airborne, they just can't sustain the height for a significant period of time. i have to admit, it's incredible watching a group of two or three border collies go to town on a herd of about one hundred sheep. the "shepherd" throws up two hand signals, and the dogs do the rest...it's amazing. so yea, she loves it, she has a blast, and that makes it worth the two hour drive.

isn't she absolutely adorable in action?!
-proud momma

alright. so i went to a wedding a few weeks ago...which we're really not going to talk about, and that reason rests mostly upon the shoulders of my date being numerous bottles of alcohol...so i don't remember much from that night, except e elbowing me in the head in his sleep...the fucker! anyway, i wasn't in the bridal party; however, the bride pretty much stipulated the dresses that all twenty-four girls in attendance had to wear....and, naturally, it was a low cut little black dress...and naturally, the rest of the girls maxed out at a b cup....

so yea. i got an e-mail with a few shots from the wedding and i have to say...it's pretty funny seeing me with my titteriffic glory next to these insanely flat and skinny girls. i'd show an example, but i need to ask the fellow pictures if it's okay...so, should i get an okay...or, better yet, should i feel the need, i'll post the actual pic. for now, you get my contribution to it:

oh, and that white thing mildly sticking out...that's just my underwire peeking out to say "hi"...yea, and dig a hole into the under side of my tit. the other one followed suit shortly afterwards, because in my world..nothing can have a minute of non-meddled glory. pity my boobs, 'cause they still have battle wounds three weeks later.