Techno-sextard...

So by the end of the day, I'm determined to figure out how to link shit on here. It's been driving me nuts. I can make it appear as a title, but then it doesn't link. Why am I so techno-retarded? I want to have a fun blog, that has links to research and pictures of ponies. I had to abandon the picture thing, because for some reason the "Hello" thing will never log me on and I sit there waiting for it and it never signs me on and I don't know how to make the pictures I have smaller and....ARGGH!

That was my techno rant. I'll stop now. Maybe if I just force myself to read the HELP section over and over, somehow I'll be able to translate it into making this a cool blog.

grr...argh...[see how the anger is fading?]

gr...

g...

...

Ah. Better. And my homage to form poetry. :)

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Check in with Porn and Chocolate's 40 Days of Reckoning:

So yeah. Day 2. Not hard. I did have the apartment to myself for a bit last night when I got home from work and of course, since this rarely happens, my immediate reaction is "Do drugs! Get naked! Masturbate! Dance like a freak!"

I only did the drugs. It was so nice yesterday (in the 50's) and I didn't even need my jacket to go smoke a bowl on my balcony. It was nice. And now, the next cold front is moving in and it will be gross and cold all weekend. But that's about weather, not sex. Although, now that I think about it, I'm sure there are parallels between sex and weather:

-If it's bad, it can ruin your day
-You can predict it all you want, but chances are it will hit when you are least expecting it and least prepared for it
-rubber boots and just rubbers--You wouldn't go out in the rain without your raincoat...
-Warm fronts, Cold fronts...eh. You're always moving from one phase to the other. But the warm fronts require less clothing.
-If either is intense, you'll probably cry out to God

Feel free to add.

I did notice that as soon as I made this decision, I started noticing cute guys. I suppose this is my own self-destructive nature. When I was starving myself, I enjoyed the control of going to Denny's with the girls and not getting anything. Playing with Fire, I always am. A Jedi I must become.

That last paragraph was brought to you by the offspring of Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Teenage Girls and Star Wars: Return of the Jedi. I bet you never even knew they hooked up. I bet you didn't even know books could hook up with movies, but they can, and that last paragraph is the result.

So maybe it'd be best if they had worn their "raincoats."

OK. That metaphor just got way out of hand. My brain feels like it's a rave today. "Oooo...glow sticks! Somebody pet me! I'm a magical faery!"

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I'm just warning all 3 of you that read this, I'll probably write a lot today. The NASD is being a fucking idiot and not sending us the firings. Brings it all to a grinding halt. Which would be nice, except for the fact that when they are finally able to distinguish their heads from their asses, we'll be overloaded with 2 days of work that never made it to us. Which will make Friday suck some serious monkey balls. For real.

But right now, I'm going to go smoke a cigarette.