Whois: 30 yr old, female, inspired but independent thinker, bride-to-be, entrepeneur, mover & shaker, living in Saint Paul MN. Likes reading. Fine art. The occasional b-movie. Temp by day, web & graphic designer by night.<\/strike> Watches the Cartoon Network, rents cheesy films, has no job and no current clientele.<\/p>\n
Random people go to Google, type in dirty words and then add the plus ‘+’ sign to a word–anything really, ‘pics’, ‘Sinead O’Connor’, ‘ice cream’, ‘vacuum cleaner’–then wind up here. I hope they’re ALL horribly disappointed when they don’t find any ‘FREE+NUDE+PICS+DREW+CAREY’ here at this site. On where I’d whine about being a singleton and feel all alone. “How depressing,” you say! Don’t worry, it didn’t last long. Besides, it may have been more a case of horniness than loneliness. In which I go from loneliness to busy-ness in no time flat, entries ripe with lust, laughter and being left out in the cold. Gawd, I’m such a grump sometimes. Bitchy, snobby, whiny, pissing and moaning all over the place. When I was all of thirteen my mother got me a magnet that says, “Bitch, Bitch, Bitch”. It’s on my fridge to this day. Still, I manage to make lots of friends. I’m still alive even though many people would want to kill someone with a mouth like mine. Go figure. People think I’m snobby about TV. Including my sister and mom. If there is stuff on TV that is annoying or horrible, you can be sure that I’ve written about it. Which is way more fun than watching the TV. I’ve even complained about TV shows I haven’t seen, because, as a TV snob, I can do that. Family Thanksgivings round the table, Fourth of July frolicks in the outdoors, whatever. Merriment or misery, it’s recalled here. The important thing is the meaning behind the OCCASION, not the fact that we’re out of liquor or nobody bought you anything that fits your fat ass, right? When it comes to media coverage of celebrities and their lifestyles & gossip\/etc., it’s like a car accident, I can’t help but watch. I’m sure it’s an obsession. Who needs enemies when you’ve got friends like Mother Nature? I love having boobs but curse the day the bra was invented, sporting a girlish figure and then watching it all go to hell after consuming too many Wavy Lays (who can eat just one?), bleeding like a stuck pig and turning into a psycho bitchfreak for 7 days a month! If that’s not horrific enough, the boyfriend calls it ‘blowjob week’. Ugh. I’m bloated. Get the fuck away from me. And other assorted womanly wonders. Stuff I wrote instead of picking my nose. Perhaps I might have been better off doing the latter. You decide. Aren’t they. Back to childhood, back to the days of wonderment, the tender ages. Fun, silly stuff. I’m not really all that smart and geeky. I just wrote about this stuff to make you think I am. He’s a piece of work some days…nonetheless, he’s mine and I’m stuck with him. Besides, he can be alarmingly cute sometimes and he loves me dearly. Ah, there’s no one else like him in the whole world! It’s is what’ll kill us eventually, so why not devote most of our lives to it? “All the live long day! Just to pass the time awaaay!” If you build it, will they come? Contrary to what some think, the web is not magic like in the movie “Field Of Dreams”. People wanted web sites. They built them. No one came. They advertised. Eventually people came. We saw. I wrote. And went. In some cases I go back, others I wished I hadn’t seen it the first time.entries<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Whois: 30 yr old, female, inspired but independent thinker, bride-to-be, entrepeneur, mover & shaker, living in Saint Paul MN. Likes reading. Fine art. The occasional b-movie. Temp by day, web & graphic designer by night. Watches the Cartoon Network, rents cheesy films, has no job and no current clientele. Random people go to Google, type … <\/p>\n