I think "minora" is more obscene than the word "labia" for some reason. And it's definately more obscene than the word "majora." I know you've been thinking of that as well.
So, since I last writ, I drank the following Tuesday at Tasha's figuring I'd be in bed by 2am. I quickly gave up that idea when we all ended up partying in my backyard til the sun came up.
Then, on Wednesday, me and my brother gave up all thoughts of waiting for Marcus (our brother) to leave back to Grand Forks in time for our party. So we threw it anyway. It was much fun. Kyle got his keys stolen by Julie and spent majority of the night looking for them. Everyone was completely wasted. But me. I played taxi and dropped people off and didn't drink very much because I felt kinda like a babysitter. A fight nearly erupted with semen.
And James tried to steal all our beer. So I had to yell at him, to which he threatened to get all the guys from the car. So I was like, "Go ahead!" Then he left. Blah.
It was fun though. I wish we could have more like that.
Marcus was a bitch the whole time he was here and I was so freakin' happy when he left. Every day felt more and more like a slow death when he was here. I cooked dinner every night, and cleaned the house, and cared for the horses. And he found every opportunity to bitch about something in the few minutes he crawled out of bed. Dickhead Skank Tittie Polly Wolly Ding Dong Shitbar. Finally, I just got sick of it and quit trying to be nice. I don't understand him at all. A spoiled whiney little bitch is all I can say to describe him.
Work...work...work the rest of the time. Boring things.
Then drinking was had last Tuesday again. I made sure to take off Wednesday so I could celebrate Laycee's 22nd birthday. I even sent a radio birthday thingie from "Eric and all your rowdy friends." But she went out of town, so I resumed the plans, but with my parents, their friend and Tasha. So we all piled into the car and went to Betty's for dollar beers. Where I made many new friends. Yay! And I kept buying people shots with Monopoly money and cheersing to Lace.
Then we drank in my basement with other people. Pretty fun. I don't think I like Beer Pong at all. Perhaps because it's a skill-less game. Like lovemaking.
More work happened.
Oh, I forgot. Tasha and Desi (and sometimes Brandy...she's the Y of the Grants) have come over nearly every night of the week. So that's fun. Desi made us watch If These Walls Could Talk 2 again. So I made sure to put plastic on the furniture first, so as to avoid vaginal stains. She gets too excited at the sex scenes. I took Tash out to eat as well.
She made 14 CD's on my computer too. Which I found odd because she likes a lot of Hip Hop/Rap/R&B and that happens to be my most lacking folder of songs. I think I have 400 or something. But perhaps she picked some Pop or Rock as well. For she hates Country. Why am I writing this?
And now me and Tash are fighting over who gets to keep Miss Tara Bo Bera, her lovely man and their 10 thousand children. She said she wants them to stay in her basement. I think it's sexual.
There's apparently a rumour going around that I, Lace, Tasha, Desi, Brandy, Kyle, Shanna, Bonette and...I forget are celebrating in my basement for Lace's belated birthday party. How odd, eh? I don't know what to say. Maybe we'll keep it outdoors until late night. No one knows the exact plan as of yet. I did call Lace though...to call her a black woman.
The Mariah Carey concert is coming up quick and I still haven't got the tickets. We keep having to put more money into mommy's credit card. Now the $70 tickets are sold out, so I saved up enough for the $90 ones. Now, as I see the layout, I don't want to be sidestage. So I'm going to spring for the $110 tickets and we'd be on the floor. No chairs but oh well. I can throw my panties though. And get trampled by crazy MC-lambs. I don't know which I'm more sexcited over.
Unfortunately, someone on MariahDaily ruined the setlist for me. It was pretty much a predictable one, but you know, at least I could have remained somewhat surprised. Argh! I have to book a hotel room as well. Damn expensive Mariah Carey and her silver boobs.
So I've decided to become a veterinarian. I figure, I graduated in 2003, I should continue onto a University finally. Boo! My dad is convinced that there are Native American programs that can help me. And I think he's full of butt beads. The Native American programs are for preparations in jobs the reservation needs. I'm sure a vet is not at the top of that list. Blah. Plus, I suck at all things Science. I'd rather draw a heart than cut into one. But I must get out of the minimum wage business. And become a struggling something for a while. Instead of a struggling penis face.
My nipples are sweaty.
I wanted to buy some groovy Native necklaces/bracelets/drums from a guy who sells them for a living. But I didn't have any money. Boo. Plus, he hangs out with the creepy guy who practices bad medicine and stalked my mommy. Which is bad. But they were really nice works.
I cooked for a guy I had a crush on in middle school at the cafe today. So, if I see him at the bar, I am going to drunkenly go up to him and say, "How'd you like your food???" Right after I throw up. "I made it just for....yooooooou." Then I'm going to put my finger to his lips and whisper "SHHHHHHHH." Then I'm going to collapse onto the floor in a pool of my own urine.
That's the plan.
I really should shower more than once or twice a week. Especially considering how much ball sweat I accumulate at work.
I got my Cobra Digital Camera DC5500 the other day.
- 5.0 Megapixels
- 4x Zoom
- TV Output
- 1.5" LCD Screen
- Web Camera
From what I've seen it's not as great as I imagined. Kinda like when you sleep with someone. Or masturbate with a cooking utensil.
I really should figure out how to work it before I judge though.