Fuck Shit

No moisturizer can help me now. The little Spanish lady that did my facial dug so deep to clean the dirty breath of a hundred thousand passengers embedded in my tiny delicate pours that it's caused a bit of soreness. I look fantastic and my face is baby ass smooth right now, but my nose is pealing from the stress of the facial.

I'm with Kurt on this one, I really do hate waiting behind women at the bank machine. I remembered his post as I stood in line today. Why oh lord why do they have to occupy all my time as they dig around in their purses. What do they have in there anyways? Perhaps it was just that her purse was a pillowcase.

Super and I have not chatted about the argument in Cancun. I think it's better that way. I laid my heart our on the beach that night, telling him how I felt about his anger issues. While my tender heart is covered in a bit of rough sand, I do feel that a change may come of it. I do have to give him time. Thanks for your comments the past few days. It helps keep me in line. There are a few of you that I want to chat with and I will try to get in touch with you over the weekend via e-mail.

Bravo and I talked the other day...plans are forming for another Orange alert on NYC next Thrusday....very excited. I'm sure the Department of Homeland Security will be on my tail.

I feel bad for the Redmonky. His backroom website has more hiding spots then Osama. It keeps morphing around the internet because of all the drama.

I have a nice package on it's way thanks to him. Videos of my high flying porn star colleague at the airline. Gawd bless me if my assistant opens it.

Bastersnatch went to Halifax for a series of bootie calls, but is now stuck because of a huge snowdrift in front of the hotel. Big storm. No "room service" for her. I'm going to courier her some snow shoes so he can go find his tricks.

Speaking of Bastersnatch, he looked after the condo while we were gone and he totally spoiled our cat (Zulu). He bought her tons of treats and now the little witch is whining all the time for some pounce shit, which I won't touch because it makes my fingers smell like I've had them up my ass all day.

The wrong side of cute Tim Horton's coffee boy today obviously went out of his way to make sure that he served me. He's crankier then some of my bitter old colleagues at the airline when he serves everyone else, but when it comes to me, he's all smiles. He's actually nice. Perhaps it's because I'm so pleasant nice to him. He's tall with long "lucky legs" (wishbone like) and a cute(ish) baby face. It's hard to tell what his hair is like given that the poor thing has to wear a hair net.

To be gay and wear a hair net. That would make anyone pissy.