Bwahahahahahahahahaha!

I don’t care how fun his crazy ass was to watch…seeing the look on his face when he got booted tonight was worth any amount of entertainment he might’ve provided in future shows.

Do you hear me laughing?

Bwahahahhahahahahaa!

See, here’s the thing: That tribe sealed their fate tonight. They don’t have the votes. The remaining members of the tribe have screwed everyone on the jury.

I don’t believe anyone can beat Terry now…unless Terry just grows stupid and gives his idol away to the highest bidder.

Aras proved himself to be a momma’s boy tonight. What a stupid crock. “Wah. My momma is just as important to me as your wife is to you. Wah! She’s my rock! Wah! How dare you say that isn’t important.”

Get real, Momma’s boy.

You realize Aras is the reverse of Sara? Yeah…he proved it tonight. Wah!!!!! I have more estrogen than testosterone. Wah!

Poor Shane. I’m sorry he was blindsided. (no I’m not. That’s what Survivor is about) but honestly, the old Kasaya team needs to realize they aren’t a TEAM anymore and get the fuck over it. Grow a pair. It’s Survivor. You got played.

Hahahahaha.

And I’m glad. That was a fun show.

seriously.

Nuttin’.

I would post something fantastic or funny–but I got nuttin’.

So, here’s my place holder until I can think of something to say.

seriously.

Nuttin’.

I would post something fantastic or funny–but I got nuttin’.

So, here’s my place holder until I can think of something to say.

I need a distraction.

I’ve been writing the same paragraph for two hours and it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

I need a distraction…NOW.

I called my neighbor down the street—no answer.

I called my neighbor across the street—no answer.

I called my boss-slash-friend—no answer.

I can’t call Maria Geraci because she picked up an extra shift tonight. She’d hang up on me anyway, if she knew I was avoiding writing a scene.

I already talked to my friend, Angie. And although that had nothing to do with avoiding my writing–it did help. 🙂

Sigh. I guess I should suck it up and write the scene. (grumble, grumble; whine, whine) BUT! I DON’T WANNA!

WAH!

I need a distraction.

I’ve been writing the same paragraph for two hours and it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

I need a distraction…NOW.

I called my neighbor down the street—no answer.

I called my neighbor across the street—no answer.

I called my boss-slash-friend—no answer.

I can’t call Maria Geraci because she picked up an extra shift tonight. She’d hang up on me anyway, if she knew I was avoiding writing a scene.

I already talked to my friend, Angie. And although that had nothing to do with avoiding my writing–it did help. 🙂

Sigh. I guess I should suck it up and write the scene. (grumble, grumble; whine, whine) BUT! I DON’T WANNA!

WAH!

It’s Friday night and I’m sitting on my futon with my laptop perched on my lap, egrossed in rewrites.

Dinner was an afterthought. Fishdog comes home and asks if I’d given any thought to food.

Delivery. Ah the magic of delivery. I pay my homage to the creation of food delivery once a week or so.

Once upon a time, way back when, I was a pizza delivery girl. Boy do I have some stories. I actually wrote one of my first creative writing papers on pizza delivery.

So, thank you 3 Guys Pizza. The pizza was fab. It went really well with my Maker’s and Diet Coke.

And I never had to leave my futon.

It’s Friday night and I’m sitting on my futon with my laptop perched on my lap, egrossed in rewrites.

Dinner was an afterthought. Fishdog comes home and asks if I’d given any thought to food.

Delivery. Ah the magic of delivery. I pay my homage to the creation of food delivery once a week or so.

Once upon a time, way back when, I was a pizza delivery girl. Boy do I have some stories. I actually wrote one of my first creative writing papers on pizza delivery.

So, thank you 3 Guys Pizza. The pizza was fab. It went really well with my Maker’s and Diet Coke.

And I never had to leave my futon.

Not that I would know…(cough) but I’ve seen some of these things in action…

This was forwarded to me. I tweaked them a little and reposted here. It’s Friday night and I’m quite sure some of y’all will be partying hard tonight…just read these and remember. 🙂

12 ways to know we’ve had to much to drink:

1. We have absolutely no idea where our purse is or if we even brought one with us.
2. We believe that dancing with our arms flailing overhead and wiggling our “boo-tays” while yelling WHOOHOO is the sexiest dance move EVER.
3. We suddenly need to kick someone’s ass. Especially the big bitch with the big hair and the brass knuckles who gave our date the “come hither” stare. We also think we can kill that bitch without breaking a sweat.
4. During our last pee break, we notice that image in the mirror resembles a homeless hooker. We’re no longer the sex-pot goddesses we were when we left the house.
5. We burst into tears and start spouting our undying love to everyone in the bar.
6. Every time a new song is played, we jump up and down and exclaim, “Oh my God! It’s my favorite song, ever!”
7. We’ve found a deeper side to the geek sitting next to us.
8. We’ve suddenly taken up smoking and gotten really good at it. Look! A smoke ring!
9. We yell at the bartender for cheating us by just giving us lemonade. Sadly, it’s that we can no longer taste the gin.
10. We think we’re in bed, but our pillow feels strangely like the kitchen floor.
11. We fail to notice the toilet lid is down when we sit on it.
12. We take our shoes off because it’s their damn fault we’re having problems walking.