mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Living through my fickle phases." My house was SPOTLESS! Spotless, I tell ya. That was a week ago. Now it looks like some Taliban suicide killer was living here. I mean... I don't know for sure how they kept their houses before they killed themselves. But damned skippy, if I knew I was going to be killing myself -- or in some other way would be dying -- I sure as all hell wouldn't clean up the place. I think that's why Sammi is living in a cave. Y'know, instead of living there because he is scared shitless of getting killed. If I knew I was gonna get my ass bombed to beef-jerky pieces, I would probably live in a cave as well. Less pressure to clean up. So, yeah. My apartment's a mess. My Spanish-Speaking Neighbor's daughter is doing a report on Germany for her class. She's 11, so that would put her in, what, 5th grade? Somfin' like that. And she needed show-N-tell type stuff. I knew I had a lot of German 'marks' (That's what they call money over there, in case you didn't know. Man-o-man, do you learn all kinds of kewl things here!). And I knew they were in a box I *still* haven't unpacked since moving up here years ago. So, I opened up the box, and I found all kinds of interesting things. Including old love letters and things from the first part of 1997. I even had an old journal in the mix. Damn... I must have been in love with Lori. We were gonna get married and all. Gawd... What was her last name? I haven't heard from her in YEARS. Last I heard, she got in a car wreck (what's with the girls I date getting in wrecks?), hurt her back, and sat on her ass for 6 months. Now she's a certified porker. Fatty-ass. It doesn't bother me none. When we decided that the long-distance thing wouldn't work and we would both do better walking our separate paths -- an amiable decision, I thought -- she suddenly went ballistic. What's with the girls I date getting ballistic??? So, she decided to insult my parents, me, and the size of my pecker. It was the pecker insult that made me pledge to not care about her wherabouts any more. So, I don't care. I also found my old diary. Well, it was an attempted diary. I probably have 10 pages written. Most of them were about Michelle. Ahhhh.... Michelle. Perhaps the hugest (ok... second hugest) crush I have ever had in my whole life. This girl was 5'0" of pure perfection. Everything she did was absolutely adorable to me. When she slept, she sucked on an invisible bottle. It was sooooo cute. She has this laugh that was, as Linda Richmond would say, "like buttah." She had this looooong black hair and an olive complexion. And the best ass I have ever, in my entire life, seen. OH. MY. GOD. But yer ol' buddy JP is a huge wuss. I can't tell girls that I adore my feelings for them. Mostly because I'm a huge idiot. Unless they open up first. Then I am fine with it. Thankfully, Michelle was -- like me -- a huge flirt. So, I totally got off on the flirting. And I still daydream about Michelle. Gawd, was she beautiful. I went and cooked for one of my clients last night. This is the guy who wanted a week's worth of Gumbo about a month ago. This time he wanted a week's worth of fried catfish. Dude's gonna die young if I keep cooking things like this for him. He also wanted some stuffed tomatoes, but he didn't know what he wanted them stuffed with. I had some things laying around, so I made him a mushroom risotto with melted mozzorella on top. He ate it and about jizzed his quadriplegic self. I knew it tasted good -- the risotto, not the jizz -- because when he eats something that is to his liking, he belts out a big "HOLEEE SHEEEEEET!" I admit I ate a good bit of the stuff. It was damn good, if I can say so myself. I'm gonna make a batch for myself. Then go read some more love letters to myself. Some of them are kinda steamy! 2:07 p.m. - Friday, Oct. 19, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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