I have the worst stories about family members about this guy. If I weren't such a big macho concrete-testicled guy, I would get the twitches thinking about some of them. Anyway, if he were to die, my grandmother would have a nuclear meltdown and so I feel that therefore I have to root for the man. I have to wonder how this guy could need a quintuple bypass for god's sake. I know he's fat and all, but exactly how many picadilly's coconut creme pies could he have fit down his turgid gullet to make his heart turn to clay? Anyway, I await the results on Saturday.
In the meantime I'm still translating the fightbook, i'm up to page 12 now. of 210. Buhhhhh.
I had to buy some more maxipads today at the kroger. I got the super overnight fat chick size, absorbant enough for a gangbang's worth of vaginal discharge, I guess. It's the size of a fucking sheet of notebook paper, and as thick as a croissant'wich, so it's got to be sopping up like a biscuit.
I'm considering dressing in period for the Ren faire this year, as I haven't for the past 4 or so years and maybe I should do it, I could realign the tides or unhinge a great corroded door of knowledge and power. And, I think I could get a discount on those baby-thigh sized turkey legs that I just drool over. I'm still in a casting call here about it, so somebody give me some input.
Okay, well as far as I know that's the whole merangue for tonight.