Monday, February 16, 2004

G-O-D--D-A-M....M-O-U-S-E (to the theme of Mickey Mouse Club)

"Squeak! Squeak! SQUEAK!!"
"What the fuck is that?" I thought as I awakened Sunday morning after a long night of rich, pretentious faggotry and my Sweet Boy. Slowly opening my eyes, I am momentarily blinded by the afternoon sunlight pouring through the tacky fire-engine red miniblinds of my sister's old bedroom. "Squeak! SQUEAK!", I again hear. Rolling over slowly with a big smile on my face because I am thinking of my Sweet Boy and his cute little innocent demeanor, I notice I have a bedmate. "JESUS, MARY, and JOSEPH!!!", I screech while leaping to my feet, abandoning all thoughts of Sweet Boy. What kind of backwoods, third-world shit hole, sixth circle of Hell CRAP is this. A MOUSE!!! IN MY BED, nonetheless. Right next to my face. It could have been curled up asleep in my mouth for all my partially hung over ass knows. Fucking flipped to say the least. I tried to find it, but all I found were the chocolate sprinkles it left behind on my sheets. OOOH NO MA'AM!!! It is one thing to climb up in the bed with my ass without asking, BUT it is an ENTIRELY different thing when you crawl up in MY bed and shit! I'm not having it! Was not even remotely amused. So basically, I have spent the greater part of the day in a war with the mouse. I will call the mouse Ellouise. If I have mispelled it's name, I will fix it later. So Miss Ella has been running in and out of my sister's old and my new bedroom all day long. I have those mouse glue traps all over the room. I decided that I would outsmart her bitch ass and line them up in the doorway. That way, she will not be able to run around them.

So I am sitting down there watching "Magnolia" (which is an excellent movie that I highly recommend) when I see her cunt ass run halfway under the door. She ran halfway under the door, stopped, stuck her tongue out at me, squeaked, "Bring it on crackuh!", then turned and ran back out the door. Slightly pissed was I. I double checked all the glue traps to make sure that there was no way for her to run around them. Being pleased with the results of the inspection of Operation "Sticky Clit," I went back to lying in bed and watching my movie. About twenty minutes later I notice some activity on the floor near the bedroom door. Ya know what that little hooker did? Her ass did a fucking hundred yard dash down the corridor, went under my bedroom door, and LONG JUMPED her ass over everuh mother fuckin one of those goddamned glue traps. OOOH NOOOooo...! My ass can take alot of things (and has), but I refuse to be outsmarted by a goddamned mouse named Ellouise. HUH uh! Not havin' it!

So you know I have, due to the events of today, had a few cocktails and am feeling a bit Shaquita Marie tonight.

Anyway, tonight I am spending the night on the sofa of the den with Mr. Bear, my teddy bear protector since age four. I covered my bedroom floor with glue traps, closed the door to the bedroom, and covered the corridor floor with glue traps. If that fucker is not stuck on one of those mother fuckers in the morning, I am going to 1) Forget about her as she obviously has done something right soas to deserve to survive, 2) Start a religious cult called the Loyal Order of the Ellouise, 3) Sue the company that makes those god forsaken glue traps. Enough about Miss Ellouise.

I stopped smoking again today. I decided that I need to as smoking serves no purpose whatsoever other than keeping me from going on a shooting spree. What is life without a good shooting spree now and again I always say. At any rate, no more cigarettes for me. Hopefully, I will not gain any weight. If I do, I will start smoking once more. Until someone comes up to me in a bar and says, "Oh my god! Your lungs are FUCKING HOT!!!", I am going to be more concerned with my outward physical health and appearance than that of my innerself. Conceited? Sure, but I really do not care. Some guy came up to me Saturday night and told me that I am too cute to be smoking and that I need to put my cigarette out as he has asthma and has to inhale my second hand smoke. I told him that if he has a problem with my smoke then he really needs to go somewhere other than a bar which is 75% smoker filled and no, I am not Jewish. Oh yea, he asked me if I am Jewish also. He has a thing for the Jews. I do too, but I am really REALLY into noses. I know it is odd, but whatever. When it comes to noses, the size really does count to me.

I have decided that I am most definitely swooning for Sweet Boy. Swooning hard at that. Still no kiss. Still no sex. Still nothing other than hugs, pecks, and the occassional innocent grope. Maybe, for all you breeders out there, you do not understand the concept of the "innocent grope." Basically, it is feeling or being felt up by another member of the same sex. Nothing is meant by it. It is almost the equivalent of a hand shake or a post game slap on the ass. At any rate, the fact that he wants to take things short bus slowly is making me want him so much more. It is not so much a need to fuck. It is more of a need to say that he is mine. Not in the possessive sense of the word. More or less I just want and am needing to say that he is with me. I am his. I am his protector. I am his provider. I am his for whatever he may need. The reason I think I am swooning so hard over him is because, with him, if we were to never have sex, I think I would be totally content with it. If we were to stay together as a couple for any extended period of time and he was never ready to go "all the way," it would not bother me in the slightest. I enjoy his company and his personality that much. Should I be saying this? No, I definitely should not as we have only been sort of seeing each other for a week or so, but I cannot help it. I am a good judge of character. He is genuinely nice. Not to say that he will not change or that I will not for that matter, but the Sweet Boy that I have gotten to know in the past week or so is exactly what I am looking for in a relationship. He fits all of the "Ken" criteria. Actually, you do not know what I mean when I talk about "Ken." "Ken" is the characteristics and standards I always look for in a guy. Sometime I will describe each to you. For now, all I will say is that Sweet Boy does meet them as of now. Granted things with him could and probably will change as they often do, but for now, I could see myself being with him or a guy like him for a very long time. He is just great.

Swooning and swooning hard.