If ya *snap* catch my *snap* drift *thrust*.
Most of you know that if I am at home alone, with my mom, or with very close friends, I’m usually naked or close to it. This said, yesterday before rehearsal, I was hanging around in my nakiepants in the livingroom when the doorbell rang. I didn’t bother to put clothes on. I just answered the door. Lo and behold, it was the guy who mows my lawn.
Lawn Mower Guy: Do you need me to mow today?
Liz: No, I don’t need you today. I just mowed my lawn 2 days ago.
LMG: I can tell. But I was talking about your yard. Outside.
Liz: Oh yeah. You can mow that.
That didn’t really happen. When the doorbell rang, I leapt the leap that Liz leaps when someone walks in and she’s not supposed to be nakie. I sprinted to my room and donned jeans and a t shirt with a taxi cab on it. He just wanted a check for last week. I wrote him one. End of story.
Georgia O’Keefe was a very tongue- in- cheek kind of person.
Sidenote: I hate it when people say “tongue- in- cheek and actually put their tongue in their cheek. Ms. Harding did that, and it hassled me to no end.
Ms. O’Keefe was the woman who painted all of those paintings of Orchids and made them look like female genitalia. That wouldn’t be too hard, though, because orchids already look like female genitalia. That’s why sexperts say that you should keep orchids in your bedroom– they send subliminal messages.
My junior year, I really wanted to get RJ an orchid boutonneire for prom, but I was afraid he was going to say, “hehe, it looks like a vagina…” so I opted for the gladiola. It was less vaginalike.
I’m going to keep Good ‘n Plenty and orchids in my bedroom.
“So this is where all the magic happens.”
- Michele, re: My mom’s bedroom.
And and and just for the record, I’m not vain. I just have a boyfriend who loves me and thinks im beautiful : ) K?
I’m going swimming with Holly today. Well, actually, she might swim, but I’ll just sit there. You know, maybe lay on a lime green floatie wearing my big sunglasses, reading Us Weekly and drinking a cosmopolitan.
Psht.
I was going to say reading cosmo and drinking a pink fruity cocktail, but when I think “pink fruity cocktail, ” I think “cosmopolitan.” And well, I can’t be reading and drinking the same thing.
After rehearsal last night, I got nekkid again and Alley Jo came over with her friend Whitney. Then I put clothes on.
Holly called me yesterday morning to make me aware of an ad in the classifieds:
For sale: This truck part, that truck part, etc. etc. etc. For more information, call Papa Smurf at this number.
I really wanted to call him and ask him if I could lick his ass, but I’m just not that brave. We really wanted Steve to call and ask:
Steve: Yes, um, Papa Smurf, I uh, I have a… proposition, if you will, for you. Papa smurf, can I, *hand temporarily over his mouth as he swallows* lick your ass?
Papa Smurf: Yeah, lick my ass, bitch!
So in conclusion, I’m not a Nosy Nancy, and -don’t- call me Nancy.