Hieumor

With a straight face, RS looks up and says, "You know the leader of the women's group is a guy named Cox."

Haaaaa.

Cute guys. The ones that are soo adorable, I can't help but to smile when I see them. The ones that actually think I'm cute too! Like the one who slipped me his number on the back of my receipt. He called and chatted with me for a few days saying nuthing but the things all girls should hear at some point in their life. He professed his undying love and talked about his future. He wants to play lacrosse at a NY University and study either architecture or fire (ironic huh?) and be a fireman in Lago Vista. He asked me to be his "baby's mama". He wants to have two kids, a boy named Tiberius, and a girl - he didn't have a name picked for her. He says he'd be a good daddy. He says I wouldn't have to work if I didn't want to.

Cute guys... It's only talk, but it's soo much fun to hear the make believe dribble from a guy, even if they are still in high school.

Right about now, I could use some fresh peaches to blend with my new Navy Rum.. yum yum yum! It's been all of about the low 80's today, and extremely beautifiul! Thankfully, since I had to park way out int he Boondocks of Buttocks. Some butt's are fuzzy like peaches too... on to better thoughts.

All the ORG stuff's been settled and should be smooth sailing for at least a week.

I found my class and could understand the proff today, also a good thing.

Figured out who my friends are, which is always good to know at the beginning of the year. Figured out who the haters and ingrates are. Needless to say this semester I'm not wasting my time on any of them anymore. I got tired of being nice only to be snubbed to my face. And that's that. Fuzzy peaches and rum. That's all I need right now... and here I go!

I probably should elaborate on the recent hate level as it applies to men.

For one, I don't expect doors to be opened for me, but I do expect them to not come flying into my face because a guy decides I'm no longer behind him.

And, why do guys try so hard to pretend to be a friend when as little as a week later they forget I exist.

Oh how about this, I blew a huge chunk of change on a favor for one guy and all I get is a day full of "damn these pieces of shit suck". Forget that I carted the pieces of shit nearly clear cross 1/2 the state...it's a big state.

And just because I show up to eat a salad and watch TV, it isn't an invitation to explore the thread work on my panties.

It's a lot of hate, which will probably subside once I get myself a cup of coffee.

i hate men.
every last breathing testosterone bearing soul.
:-D that's all!

Ahhh, the sound of teens bored to tears. Just three months ago they were the big shots of their world. Now, they start again from the bottom. Yesterday and today I spent introducing them to my world of non-academic goodess. Tomorrow, I cook for hotdogs and hamburger for these guys... Eugh, the things I do. What's wrong with me?

I haven't written in two weeks... mainly because I didn't have a way to post for two weeks. One week was me being busy. Another week was me being in a hotel that was uber more expensive than the last one and didn't have wireless goodness to blog with. The change of hotels came about after one morning waking up to a tumor underneath the lightswitch to the kitchen and coming home to a stew pot full of water in the bathroom - the upstairs unit was leaking. Then there was this thing with the last week of work and me wrapping up all the crazy stuff that I started and got shuffled into. Then there was me with this obsession with a doggie. Then there was the news that I would be one man down in the next big school event. Turned out to be I was two men down. Which ended up with me being up till midnight the night after the big event and only getting home at 9:30 tonight.

The good stuff: I met Ringo. Ringo rocks. I love Ringo. I had an 'adventure' shall we say... in A-town. And I made it back to Buttocks in one piece... though quickly shattered into several after only sleeping a total of an hour in two days.

All in all not bad, though I am sure I've secured myself a nice comfy spot in Hell. Eh. What's new.

Once, I remember being so sushi deprived that while having lunch at the sushi bar with an old friend I remarked that I would have a bar just like this in my kitchen. This bar would be well stocked with fishie goodness, waiting to be wrapped in rice and seaweed and served on a faux laquer platter. Hence, I could enjoy sushi whenever I wanted without the wait! I would also like to add to my dream kitchen, a boba tea dispenser which would dispense my favorite flavors without having to deal with silly bobawaitresses. (Big happy grin)

Because everyone should wear a sarong!
Everyone should *have* a sarong!!
And everyone should have had some sort of crazy pink colored drink in their lifetime that wasn't called lemonade!

And everyone should comment on my crazy cool new cowboy hat. Cause hats are just that cool!

Boba's not that hard a thing really, and yet, just about every other place I go, there's some sort of BobaDrama(TM).
Today's BobaDrama(TM) is brought to you by the word idiot.

I don't belive our hostess had connections between her Neurons. My order was answered with a "are you sure you want that? If you don't mind, I really have to pee."

I had asked for a Mango-Pinapple Boba Slushie. Dear God, you'd think I'd learn by now. Upon her return, she questioned my choice and wasn't sure she could do that because she didn't think it would taste good. I assured her it would. She still wasn't sure. I suggested she add some variety in her life and just make the damned thing. She was almost positive it wouldn't taste good. I assured her it shouldn't matter to her because I was the one who was going to drink it. No really, it's good, please, just make it for the Love of Rice. She did. And it was good. The end.

Judy reminded me today during our 7 courses of beef dinner that there are four cardinal laws of college:

1. Quarters are GOD.
2. Men are EVIL.
3. If you didn't open it, don't drink it.
4. If you don't have the money in your hot little hands, don't spend it.

Have I mentioned how much I love Judy? I (heart) Judy.

McG made an appearance this weekend and for part of the Let me show you all my favorite places in A-Town tour, we did dinner and a movie at the AlamoDraftHouse. The dinner: Pizza. The movie: The Village.

I love scary movies, but I rarely see them. Mainly because I have three conditions that have to be met: 1) It's not before bed time, 2) I don't sleep alone and 3) I get to hold someone's hand through out the movie. I should also add: Grown people cannot scream during the movie.

For the Love of all that is Christian, McG was seated next to some psychotic girl who's idea of displaying utter cuteness and gaining her honey's chivalous comforting touch was to shriek with all the might of her bagpipes during the moderately scary scenes. Twice. This is where I become SuperAsianClam - with my super hero power to shut people the fu*k up.

The movie was scary, not as scary as the last scary movie I saw with McG that turned my tummie inside out to the point that I had to take it out and put it in a wash and rinse cycle with a bottle of pepto-bismol, but it was good scary. The screaming lady nearly made me lose my poo. Mostly because she ruined the 'vibe' as McG so delicately put it. I wonder if her boyfriend was as embarrased for her as I was. I hope so. Cause that would suck. For her.