delete your face

I dont know what the deal with this guy was at church today. But I was sitting in the foyer and this guy waltzes in all late. And he asks everyone if they've handed out the sacrament yet. And I answer and say that they've handed out the bread (helpful, no?). And he sneers and says something and gets all huffy about it. I cant even remember what was said. All I know is that he was rude as fu*k. So much as to where the girl standing next to me looks and has this WTF look in her face (that I dont even really know. So its not like she was my friend and doing it for my benefit). Now I know why no one else jumped to answer his question.

Sorry dude. Its not my fault you were late to sacrament and felt the need to spread your venom. And if asshattery comes that easily to you, then you need to work on more than just getting to church on time.

UGH! WHO DOES THAT?

Yeah. So anyways, I deleted him off my friend's list. Its the new pulling off your glove and slapping your opponent in the face. But without them knowing unless they physically looked through their friend database of people who have not slapped them gloveless and seeing if you are still on it or not. I guess.

addendum. seriously, this guy was an ass. he talked to me like i was some dude he wanted to punch bc I had just slept with his girlfriend.

Okay on Sunday, after yoga, I started getting dressed for church at the gym. And this sassy, black woman with a bunch of tattoos looked at me and said, "you look so fresh and pretty!" and that just put the hugest smile on my face! But I said, "I didnt look this way an hour ago!" and she laughed. Anyways, I have used far too many exclamation points as it is.

Must move on.

I got hit on by random strangers a few times this week. I dont understand what a guy thinks is going to happen if he drives past me and stops his car and says, "Girl, you are fine. Are you married?" Thats what happened today. I just say "No thanks." And he just drives off. But what if I meant, "No. Thanks!"? What then?

And then on Saturday, I got hit on (by strangers) a bit too. But I was out at yacht rock (@ the graveyard). As soon as I hung out with other people, I didnt get hit on. I hardly think its the three pounds I lost. Who can see that? But on saturday, I had some short shorts on. And then today, I was wearing yoga tight clothes. I see a common thread. Get it? "Thread"? Hyuck.

I could quite possibly be watching the worst movie ever. Think "A Child Called It" (by David Pelzer) but in movie form. Yet a bit different.

Okay, Im going to do a Yo Mamma joke. I suck at making these up. But I STILL PRESS FORWARD AND TRY!

Yo mamma so fat she watches the Home Shopping Network.

Y'herd?

YSA Conference?

Okay I havent been to a church dance in a really long time. So Amy wanted to go to the YSA Conference and I will definitely go with her. And now I cant get a hold of her and dont really have any plans tonight .... DO I GO? I dont know ANYONE. I mean, of course I know people. But I dont KNOW anyone. I need someone to talk to during the times when people are talking to the other people they know. JEEZ. Im not really a wall flower dont make me one now LIFE. Ugh, Im preliminarily freaking out. This is so unnecessary.

I havent SSLLLLLOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWW danced in forever. Since my last church dance. (well, Ive certainly danced with guys but not in the church dance way). ANd I remember the last times not really getting asked to dance too much (I think my hair scared them off ... or maybe it was the folded arms and scowl? who knows with men they are so fickle). I've gained weight. Are they going to notice? Like through my shirt? Better wear my sweatshirt ... y'know. The thick dark blue one. In the dark, no one will be able to see me.
I wish it was all classes and no socializing. That would be fun. Kind of like school. Or institute. But without that time after Institute where you make plans to go eat hot dogs and whatnot. Man, socializing isnt like subbing. If no one volunteered, I just called on their name and made them do it. If you want to "pass out papers" in the real world of socializing, you need to move out of slow lane and do it yourself (worst analogy ever).

Maybe I should go to the mall and buy two new shirts to ease my nerves.
Yes.
I'm feeling better already.

Wait, no seriously. Do I just stand there by myself if no one is talking to me? Is that what you do? I've never been in the position where I dont know anyone that much at a church dance. shopping. shopping shopping will make it all go away.

can a guy get raped?

that pocket ninja guy ...

It is an intellectual poverty to assume that a man cannot be raped by a woman. Social stereotypes trap us into a narrow, rigid way of thinking, a perspective that does not permit our collective imagination to run beyond the tired, worn scenario of the hapless drunkard, lured home by a seductress, half passed out on the couch while she leans over and licks his neck, unbuckles his belt and pulls his manhood, soft like taffy, from his trousers. "No," he murmurs. "I can't. I respect you too much." But she leans over his lap and attacks him with a carnal hunger, drooling and slobbering while her nails rake red lines across his heaving chest. "No," he murmurs again, but he is powerless. His alcohol-induced weakness has sapped him of the strength required to dismount this temptress from his violated sex. And he can feel himself stiffening, can feel himself, against every fiber of his being, becoming aroused, and then she looses from their lacy confines the pendulous mounds of her breasts, and..

Sorry, sorry. Got distracted. Maybe that's not a good example. A plumber. He's a plumber, and he's come over to fix her pipes, and when she answers the door in a sheer teddy through which he can see the dark, puffy circles of her areolae he stammers and steps back before recovering his professional stance. "Uh, you called about your sink?" he asks, and she smiles slyly and invites him in, trailing one sinuous finger along the soft curve of her neck as she eases shut the door, and she leads him to the kitchen while he forcibly keeps his eyes on the ceiling, which has some water spots. And she points him toward the sink, and as he sets down his toolbox on the table she produces a pink silk scarf from a cabinet. "Do you mind?" she purrs, and he doesn't understand what she's asking him, doesn't even understand what's going on as she slips its cool folds over his wrist, tightens the knot, slips the other end around the towel holder hanging over the sink and tightens it. "What are you doing?" he whispers, but now there's another scarf, and she's wrapping it around his other wrist and tying that to the faucet. And he could break free, could snap those scarves like tissue paper, but he's trapped, frozen there as if bound by Medusa's gaze, and can only watch as she presses her lithe body against his, whimpering like a small bird, her hands roving over his powerful chest and strong legs and caressing his forbidden regions. And she pulls one of her teddy's straps off her shoulder, then the other, and squeezes her own breasts with her hands. "Please," she begs. "Please." And still he's frozen, watching in horror as she unzips his pants, lowers herself to her knees, and..

Ah, damnit. Did it again. Screw it. The guy got lucky.

Full Throttle update

So I didnt go to sleep until FOUR AM in the morning! Thats a whole hecka lot of suck.

I dont know how Ash gets so much play off of ldslinkup. That is just weird seeing how she doesnt even go to, or even like, the LDS church that much. It just adds further evidence to my bag of evidence that spirituality/LDSness seems to be low on the totem pole of what LDS guys want.

Oh and the Mentadent. GIve me a break. The white part is coming out of the right side now, but only every other brush. So not getting both active ingredients during every brushing. Suck.

What is this from? Life of Brian?

REG: Agreed. Francis?
FRANCIS: Yeah. I think Judith's point of view is very valid, Reg, provided the Movement never forgets that it is the inalienable right of every man--
STAN: Or woman.
FRANCIS: Or woman... to rid himself--
STAN: Or herself.
FRANCIS: Or herself.
REG: Agreed.
FRANCIS: Thank you, brother.
STAN: Or sister.
FRANCIS: Or sister. Where was I?
REG: I think you'd finished.
FRANCIS: Oh. Right.
REG: Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man--
STAN: Or woman.
REG: Why don't you shut up about women, Stan. You're putting us off.
STAN: Women have a perfect right to play a part in our movement, Reg.
FRANCIS: Why are you always on about women, Stan?
STAN: I want to be one.
REG: What?
STAN: I want to be a woman. From now on, I want you all to call me 'Loretta'.
REG: What?!
LORETTA: It's my right as a man.
JUDITH: Well, why do you want to be Loretta, Stan?
LORETTA: I want to have babies.
REG: You want to have babies?!
LORETTA: It's every man's right to have babies if he wants them.
REG: But... you can't have babies.
LORETTA: Don't you oppress me.
REG: I'm not oppressing you, Stan. You haven't got a womb! Where's the foetus going to gestate?! You going to keep it in a box?!
LORETTA: [crying]
JUDITH: Here! I-- I've got an idea. Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb, which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans', but that he can have the right to have babies.
FRANCIS: Good idea, Judith. We shall fight the oppressors for your right to have babies, brother. Sister. Sorry.
REG: What's the point?
FRANCIS: What?
REG: What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies when he can't have babies?!
FRANCIS: It is symbolic of our struggle against oppression.
REG: Symbolic of his struggle against reality.

what guides men's decisions.

apparently, its always the penis.

so i was watching millionaire matchmaker on bravo.

and the woman fixes up millionaires.
and typically they are 40 somethings looking for 22 year old/blonde/model slash actresses - y'know. Eye candy. Arm candy. Whatever.

So she meets this guy, peter, thats all into tai chi and meditation and shiat.
and he's 40 something and looking for women HIS age (which shocks and impresses the hell out of the millionaire matchmaker). Women who dont wear makeup. Women who arent model slash actresses.

So the matchmaker sets up this cruise for peter and a typical stereotypical millionaire looking for arm candy. 20 of the women are the woodsy types that peter is looking for and the other 20 are moreso your typical millionaire fodder.

so who does peter choose? not the pilates instructor, not the journalist, but a 22 year old model slash actress.

and the matchmaker was telling him he was making a horrible choice and he was like "will you just stfu, bc i get along with her!" and then peter and the model slash actress went on their date and had a horrible time.


guess peter thought not with his heart but with his peter.
two words: typical male.