03.23.05

I declare I am the Copier Queen,
Who collates, conflates
and lets off steam.
Who shuffles papers
and makes customers happy,
finishes orders,
and is awful sassy.

I have no idea where that came from. Obviously, not a good place. Perhaps it is from Camelot. ("Let us not go there, it is a silly place." King Arthur Monty Python and the Holy Grail.)

La, la, la.

It's raining today, and the local drivers reacted during rush hour with their normal, level-headed, aplomb. Once again, no payoff. No tragic mishaps involving truck loads of dead babies, kittens, and puppies spread across the roadway. I am forced to the conclusion that they're freaked out by air.

*sigh*

Yeah. Right.

Oh well, now for another wild afternoon of writing, reading, and beginning a dominatrix-ish bellydance bra. I've got black velvet, and grommets. If I make the front lace, I can control how much I push together the hahoovas*. Do I want a gigantic (allowing for physical reality) ass-crack (a.k.a.: cleavage) on my chest, or do I merely want a hint of roundness. Here goes nothing!

*Have you ever noticed how, if you pluralize a word in the correct context, it's obvious that you mean boobage? Gads, ah lurves language.

Now go. Be fabulous. 'Cause y'are, y'know.

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