Everybody's fuckin' on the dancefloor

I felt like this should be in pink. I'm in a pink mood. There are color moods that I get in--green, purple, blue, black, pink, etc. I just felt pink. Not the evil connotation of girliness, but its brightness and bamness-like quality; no one can ignore pink. No one. Ew. That reminds me of that damned song that I truly dislike. Andrew and I slaughtered it in the car this weekend (we sounded like sick, Japanese hyenas with bad diarrhea)...and that was relieving =)

Christmas is almost here! It's Christmas Eve and I opened one present so far: Andre got me Nip/Tuck Season 1 on DVD. I'm mucho excited because I love that show and I haven't seen it in a long time. Oh, and you ARE Patrick. K. Thanks.

It seems that I have inspired mucho people to write in blogs. Not only do I have a growing audience of somewhat captivated readers, but followers who wish to be just like me. Granted, I got this all from Greg, but I started my own cult of bloggers. I feel like Charles Manson (I'll do without severe brainwashing) or Jesus (he got billions to follow his beliefs)--just cooler and with a vagina. Vagina, vagina, vagina. lalalalalala. A comedian once said that vagina sounds like a disease. "Hey, I can't come into work today--I have vagina, it's all over my face." That was an indirect quote from the comedian. There was another comedian who said that he and his wife were sleeping one night and they were spooning (aww) and he felt "a warm breath on his thigh." Yup, she farted. hhmmm...Karen, Sam and I were watching Oprah one night (more me than them) and apparently this woman hadn't passed gas in front of her husband of twenty-five years...ever. I think that's insane. Especially considering that I come from a household where both mother and father let one rip without thinking twice. I can't imagine being with someone for that long and not letting something pass, ya know? My parents probably have secret competitions without telling one another and try to out do the other...honestly, my mom would probably win sound wise...padre would win smell wise...it gets so bad that he even denies it after awhile and blames it on Tobie. I think everyone blames the dog at one point in their lives. Where's your homework? The dog ate it. Where did that piece of meat go? The dog must have taken it. Who let one rip? It was the dog. Who shit on the new carpet? It must...uh...have....uh been the dog...yeah, that's right, the dog. Poor puppies.

Goodnight ya'll. I have to work again. Just know that I'll be dreaming of you. Not. Well, maybe...

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