Dear Mrsatroxi,

I hate automatic flush toilets. I hate the fact that as you stand there, hovering, (because every good girl is taught at a very young age to oh my lord never let anything of yours touch any part of a public toilet) they flush by themselves (yes, I know that’s why they are called automatic) a good minute before you are finished, causing a reverse-bidet effect, which means you are sprayed with your own urine. Or whatever else you may have the misfortune to be in there doing. Disgusting! I am convinced that one of those urine-fetish men types came up with the idea. Because it sure don’t save any water, since you have to flush it again, manually, before you leave, and it don’t protect you from germs, because you still have to touch a button to flush manually. So what other point can there be, except as kicks for a masturbating plumber?

I really need to try and write something funny here.

Something funny.

HA!

Sigh.

The best thing about Tivo? No commercials or promos. Just tiny frames. Hootie in a Nudie suit. A Gecko being dropped and hopefully stomped on. Dragons eating goats, or something. A long-haired older lady dancing with a horse. I think. I’m not really sure because, blip, blip, blip, there they go. It’s great! I haven’t wanted to try a new sammich or maxi pads or toothpaste or watch a crap show or anything since we got the thing. It’s almost like PBS used to be!

(Just as a side note, I think ‘Hootie in a Nudie suit’ is on of my best lines in quite a while. Naughty!)

I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes thinking I really should post something. But all I have to say is more whining blather about how bad my days are lately. Of course, this is my site, I can I post whatever I like, but the monotony is getting to me.

But, hey, who cares?

Tuesday my doc put me on some new medication. Wednesday I tried it. Wednesday night I had a very bad reaction to aforementioned medication. I was very sick, with terrible tummy cramps. I ended up passing out and busting my head on the floor as I stupidly tried to walk to the telephone to get help. I’ve only passed out twice before in my life, and each time somebody caught me before I splattered my brains across the pavement. It is very odd that as you pass out, the last thing you hear is your head hitting the hardwood. Possibly bouncing. Melon-tarmac comparisons are not uncalled for. Owie. I find it morbidly amusing that a medicine that was supposed to help make things better actually caused me to miss two days of work, a job interview, and some nice spring weather, then gave me a lovely knotted head and a migraine to beat the band.

My doc told me not to take any more of it. Um, yeah. Thanks, doc. Thanks muchly.

But wait! Good things have happened, too! My bestest girlfriend sent me a totally unexpected package. Inside were two of the most beautiful Moleskine journals. Also a pen. Somebody nice loves me! I think I cried. Now I can sit in Paris and write like a real author. I’ll look authentic! I just need to buy a black beret. And an excuse to buy hats is always a good thing.

The other good thing is we are finally getting new flooring in our kitchen. Five years I’ve been waiting for this. But we always got ridiculous estimates. We have a tiny kitchen. Tiny. The estimates were always well over a thousand dollars. Ridiculous! So we are going to do part of the work (the non-skill kind) ourselves, and that will make a difference. Also I (yes I, this one’s for me) am getting a beautiful new cooktop. That goes in tomorrow. New kitchen dance!

So things are looking up. I guess I just needed a busted head to see it. Some would say it has always been busted. To those I say: SHUT UP.