SELFABSORBED.ME

But I digress:

It goes something like this.

So he gets this “small injury” and they need to send him home…but not just home, to a hospital…and not to just any hospital...but whatever medical procedure they need to do to him can only be done by the hospital that is a block away from my apartment. Because the only real appendectomies place happens to be across the street. And his family, well his poor family, is out there living in the South, probably miles away from running water and cannot fly to come see him…..

So guess who he has to call? …No no, not the girls from Scores... no, he has to call ME ..And I walk into the hospital room, and he is laying there and looks up, and I am like a vision, probably wearing my purple dress with the V-Neck that caused me to max out my Banana Republic card, and it breezes around as I walk in the room, because there is always a light breeze from somewhere.

And his parents look over at me and then look at Military Boy and say, “wow, she must be one amazing woman to stay here with you all this time.” And he bows his head and says, “She is Mom…she really is…”

Go pick up CBS' Watch! Magazine today! It can be found at any major magazine stand...located next/near/around the TV Guides. Then shove any small children or people in wheelchairs out of the way to get you copy!

So I am going to see a boy this weekend. A real live boy. Not even an imaginary one I made up in my head. I will be staying with him in his house...yes, house...that he owns. I know I know, us city folk have no concept of 'homes' or 'owning' ...he told me has a lawn, and that actual animals live there, like squirrels and birds and what not. I am confused by this whole "lawn" thing, so I asked, "you mean the gated area where homeless people sleep?" And he said, "no", that there are actually no homeless people sleeping on his lawn. Odd. I found this to be an interesting concept.

Regardless I am getting distracted from the real point of this conversation. The point being that I am going to be living, eating , sleeping at his place for three whole days, there arising one very important question. A question pertaining to the meaning of life and Jesus and God and what-have-you...and that is....where am I going to shit?

Honestly. Where? I am going to have to go undercover and be the 007 of all shitting. He can't know that I shit! He just can't! What will he think of me?!

So I have started to route out maps and plans in my head. Plans of possible "shitting times" and "shitting areas". All so that it can do down in complete secrecy.

Let us start with restaurants. I figure anytime we eat out, go to Starbucks, ect...that is a perfect time for me to tell him I have to use the bathroom. Like maybe tell him I have to go 'powder my nose'. For real. Men still fall for that 'nose powder' line right? Or wait, is that only cocaine users? See, fuck, I am screwing up the Shitting Plan already!

The other option is right before I take a shower. I an have the water running and the scents from my shampoo are likely to fumigate away any trace of actual shitting to have occurred. But herein lies problem #1- What if he asks to join me in the shower? What the fuck do I do then?! Tell him I have a no shower buddy policy? Tell him he doesn't want to see my massive burn wounds? Hmm, I have to work on this one.

Problem #2 lies in the fact that I am a serial toilet clogger. For real, I can clog any well plumb'ed (is that a word?)toilet across any Continent. There is not a single toilet I have yet to overflow. So do I bring a plunger with me? Stick it in my carry on just to be on the safe side? What if airport security open my bags and want to know why I have an industrial strength plunger with me? What if I am arrested for trying to bring an industrial plunger on the plane and The Boy has to come pick me up from the airport in handcuffs and then they will tell him my entire shitting-life-story?!

Seriously, I am starting to lose sleep over this whole shitting thing. I am starting to think it's best if I just stop eating today and only resume eating after the trip to avoid shitting all together...

My Sober Mind and My Drunk Mind

have a conversation:

Sober Mind: Wow this bar kinda of sucks, it's not very crowded, there isn't even anyone here that is that good looking..

Drunk Mind: What are you talking about lady?! I just passed three hotties on my way to the bar!

SM: Um are you talking about the two French Canadians wearing Wayne's World t Shirts and their mom?

DM: YES HELLO! WAKE UP! GRAB A PENIS!

SM: grab a what..ok stop, seriously stop, put your hands down, I don’t think throwing your hands up in the air in a fit of joy is going to get you anyone…no no, stop dancing, I don’t think there is a dance floor here...

DM: But they are playin my music!

SM: They are playing Rod Stewart.

DM Exactly.

SM: (sigh)

DM: And what are you talking about Ladymarmalade?! There’s a dance floor right here, and I can tell that hot guy is looking at me from across the room... he wants THIS...

SM: That is a lesbian.

DM: Think I should go dance with him?

SM: ahh, no, that is definitely a lesbian.

DM: A thespian? I fucking love actors! I am going to make my way over there…are you coming with me?

SM: Coming with you where? You are sitting on the floor. You can’t sit on the floor you know…

DM: Floor shmore I’m just takin a nap, just a little damn nap, no one will notice me under this stool…

SM: You cant sleep under this stool, and that dude at the bar asked if you could stop petting his leg.

DM: hmmm interesting thought... then what will I lay my head on?

SM: How about we go home?

DM: Ahh yes, let’s go home, but first let me grab the hottie in the corner and bring him with us...

SM: the lesbian?

DM: ahh yes, that will do.

Now I agree with what you are thinking, which is, Kim,this is quite an obvious one! I mean listen, sometimes I just don't need their happy smiling faces on people under the age of 21 trying to "change the world" and other bullshit like that. I prefer my children to be in a gated mall atrium as well.

#3

COUPLES

Somewhere in the bible Jesus is quoted as saying something along the lines of , "People in love will be killed by a thunderbolt!" Now you can go ahead and try and correct me if you think I am wrong, but listen , Jesus and I are tight, and I know that even if he didn't get that quote mentioned in there, I know he was thinking it.

#4

The scene in the Lion King when they sing Circle of Life and present the baby

Now I don't know about you, but this does not make me cry, this doesn't even give me tingles all over my entire body (especially my knees) ...and not only that but it doesn't even give me tingles and make my eyes well up with hot tears when I am staring at simply this picture right now. Damn you LION KING! DAMN YOU!

#5

ahh....Did I mention Children?

Want to know what I want to see when I look out my back window? Asphalt. Lots and lots of asphalt. And possibly a homeless person sleeping on it, or some chalk outline bodies...or maybe even trash, how about some good ol' trash? When I look out my window and I see cement and a person frozen to concrete.... I know I am home.

“Mom..do you mean AOL?"

• It frightens me now that Facebook has a suggestion box called , “People you MAY know.”..how the hell does Facebook know I might know these people? ...Listen to me Mr. Facebook, you don’t know nothin' about who I MIGHT know.

• I am bothered by Itunes now making suggestions as to what artist or song I am looking for. The minute I start typing in the search box it makes guesses for me, such as when I typed in “AM” it started flashing, did you MEAN Amy Winehouse? America’s Next Top Model? Amy Adams? America?...How about you stop damn rushing me ITunes? What, you got plans or something to do so you feel like rushing me? You got some big Itunes orgy to attend to after this that? Or some Itunes Tupperware party you're late for? Stop friggen rushing me, I don’t like humans completing my sentences, let alone computer programs with 7.0 frames.

• Why does Kaza keep coming back to me like a bad ex boyfriend? I know it does bad things to my hard drive, infecting it with viruses I cannot rid of, so why do I keep going back? I keep deleting it, telling Kaza to just stay away from me, but sure enough months later , I can't seem to find the new Britney single and I know Kaza has it, I can just feel it, I know getting back with it will only give me yet another virus I cant get rid of, but I always tell myself, just one night, I will just do it for one night and then never again. Fuck you Kaza! Fuck you and you’re huge…umm…song selection!

• Why is MySpace the most ghetto website on the web?MySpace is like that trashy friend you keep around just to make you feel better about yourself..."well hey life isn't so bad, Krystal just got pregant by her cousin!" Myspace is for everyone who never went to school, works as a hairdresser and strips on the weekends GhettoSpace has become so old news I had to delete mine. I couldn’t even stand to get comments anymore, people would comment on my page and I would get angry just looking at them, all I could think was “comments are so 2006!” And why do people who are in relationships write on each other's pages? "Hey George too bad you couldn’t get it up last night, but I really am impressed with your HTML skills!”