I pinned down the source of my soiled sheets tonight. Mickey (not Oliver, who is fine I guess) rolled over like a little hairy pig and VOILA, let loose a putrid pool of cat dirt. I had naturally been blaming myself for the past month. Circa now, I just showered, and there are remnants of cat all over my bed. How do people live like this? I understand compassion for dogs, certainly. Babies, unquestionably, most of the time. But cats are just bitches. Nasty bitches.
You can probably tell from my tone that today bordered on le sucking.
I woke myself up at 4 a.m. during a strangulation dream. Tired and disoriented, I saw my own reflection and screamed. I couldn’t get back to bed, so I… come to think of it, I did absolutely nothing until 9:00 a.m., when I had class.
My French professor is a humiliating cat woman who makes every effort to demonstrate that I am in fact retarded. And to make matters worse, she’s flawless looking and elegant. She keeps reminding me that I’m a poser. Bof, Monsieur Tissot has spoiled me. Anyway, after five hours of tedium, Madot took me to have a make-over. She said something in French to the saleswoman which I translated into “Excuse this little old blind man, he never learned the proper way to apply his face.” But the giver had a nail appointment, so the nightmare has been rescheduled for tomorrow at four. I’ll be sure to post a picture so you’ll be able to recognize me. Brigette had a chance to behold the Mad Dog in person. She learned without delay that her eyebrows are in truth unruly (which I disagree with), and I suspect she is going to town on them as I write.
However, today was not completely flawed. I treated myself to the movie of the year in VO (sexy) and some new school supplies (sexier). Then I spent an hour shaving both of my legs in their entirety. Afterwards, I placed new perfumed soaps from the Galimard factory in my drawers, so that I will attract the opposite sex. All’s not lost.
You can probably tell from my tone that today bordered on le sucking.
I woke myself up at 4 a.m. during a strangulation dream. Tired and disoriented, I saw my own reflection and screamed. I couldn’t get back to bed, so I… come to think of it, I did absolutely nothing until 9:00 a.m., when I had class.
My French professor is a humiliating cat woman who makes every effort to demonstrate that I am in fact retarded. And to make matters worse, she’s flawless looking and elegant. She keeps reminding me that I’m a poser. Bof, Monsieur Tissot has spoiled me. Anyway, after five hours of tedium, Madot took me to have a make-over. She said something in French to the saleswoman which I translated into “Excuse this little old blind man, he never learned the proper way to apply his face.” But the giver had a nail appointment, so the nightmare has been rescheduled for tomorrow at four. I’ll be sure to post a picture so you’ll be able to recognize me. Brigette had a chance to behold the Mad Dog in person. She learned without delay that her eyebrows are in truth unruly (which I disagree with), and I suspect she is going to town on them as I write.
However, today was not completely flawed. I treated myself to the movie of the year in VO (sexy) and some new school supplies (sexier). Then I spent an hour shaving both of my legs in their entirety. Afterwards, I placed new perfumed soaps from the Galimard factory in my drawers, so that I will attract the opposite sex. All’s not lost.
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