04.04.05

1) There is no good reason for anyone ever to wear royal blue, stretch velvet leggings with one's shirt tucked into the waistband. Never appropriate. Never in good taste. And never, ever, au courant.

2) Here's my latest theory about Stumptown drivers: their lives are so miserable that they drive with a deep-seated, nigh unconquerable, fear of getting where they're going. Ergo, the always going at least five miles per hour below the speed limit. The slamming on of brakes if there's a turn greater than three degrees.

3) This Empress of Bitch is crampin' like it's an Olympic event. I ain't havin' a period, I'm having an exclamation point. Yeee-OUCH!

Maybe we should develop shock troops of pre- and menstrual women, supply them with all the sweet and salty snacks they want, then let 'em loose.

Okay, here's a really evil thought, can you imagine the shock and horror of al Qaeda-backed forces if a brigade of armed, pissed, and cramping women took the field? I think it'd all be over pretty quickly.

What can I say? I'm in pain, and it manifests by martial musings. I promise, in 48 hours I'll be all peace, love and garbanzo beans. Or as close to it as I get.

I'm going to gobble some painkillers, fill up my hot water bottle, and go fetal on my bedroom floor.

Go. Be fabulous.

Back one. ||||| Forward one.