mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The day the shit hit the Holy crap! My contest has been a success WAY beyond my wildest dreams. Partially thanks to Uncle Bob to linking me in not one, but TWO diary entries. I know I am big-time now that I have two links from my Uncle Bob. He may be old. He may be overweight (though losing it old-folk style). Heck, he may be bald. Yeah... that's it. Heh. I bet you were expecting some more ass-kissing from me, saying something like "But he's a damn fine writer and an asset to Diaryland." But nope. I just wanted to say he was old, fat, and bald. That's Uncle Bob in a nutshell. (He knows I joke. We all love Uncle Bob.) Yep. It's official. I know what the absolute worst feeling in the world is. Because I experienced it last night after taking the world's biggest Frosted Mini Wheats and Raman Noodle poop I've ever had. Let me set the scene: Well... come to think of it, let me not. Just imagine a pretty disgusting toilet bowl when you flush. Instead of the water going down, it rises. And rises. And rises. All the while, you are yelling -- screaming -- at the rising water "Noo! Noooo! Stop! GO DOWN!!!" But it rises as if Noah had a little arc down there. And then, the team you were cheering for -- The Spontaneous Decloggers -- officially lost the game. You watch in disgust and extreme anguish as the water pours over the side of the bowl. Protective measures are taken as you take your pajamas and still-clean shirts that surround your toilet and throw them as quickly as you can out your bathroom door. And you sit and watch as That, my friends, is the worse feeling in the world. Because you know you are going to have to clean it up. And you know you are going to have to touch your dirty toilet water when you mop. I tell you this: there ain't enough antibacterial soap in this world that will rid the stigma of poop from your hands. Remember how I said I woke up at 2am yesterday morning? Well, I still haven't been asleep since I woke up. I was flipping through channels at 5am, and I came across the Oxygen channel and their Power Yoga hour. Inhale I think it is called. So, since I am going to try and lose as much weight as I can before May, I decided to do me some Power Yoga. First off, let me suggest to the Oxygen network that they should get some much uglier girls with much worse bodies, because it is hard to keep your eyes off of the TV when some dark-haired brunette with sizable boobs and huggable hips (sorry... I have a thing for huggable hips) is bending over, her lower back exposed. *Gulp* You'd think that sitting in awkward positions, breathing deeply, would be easy enough for this 24 y/o guy. Nope. I can do some of the basic things -- like sitting with my legs crossed and laying on my stomache -- but I sure as hell can't put my left foot back, my right foot forward, my left hand behind my back, and my right hand through my legs to interlock my left hand. Sound confusing written down? Yeah... try doing it. But I know I am losing weight. I haven't weighed myself, but I feel lighter. And when I had my large lunch today, my belly didn't stick out nearly as far as usual. Damn... I'm probably either HOTT or getting near it. Because of my "diet," I resisted the urge to go to this place in town called the Broadway Diner, where they serve "The Stretch." Let me, just briefly, tell you a little bit about "The Stretch." It should be called "Heaven on a Plate." Or, "Heartburn Heaven." Or something with the word "Heaven" in it. Because it is damnly fine good. You can make it yourself, though it tastes better in this greasy spoon diner: Layer hash browns, chili, a scrabled egg, some cheese, and onions. Gawd. I just messed my pants. Ok... Going through today's linkers. This may take a while, so stick with me. These are the people who emailed me with their linkages. If I missed you, write me back telling me the major bitch you think I am. Heck... anyone can mail me and say *that*. Of course we know that Uncle Bob linked me. Twice. I've been giddy all day because of Uncle Bob. This doesn't mean he automatically wins, so keep the linkages open. Corrupt4evah definitely gets an entry in the "just wrong" category. And I'm not even talking about my linkage entry (though, it too, was quite wrong in its own right). I'm talking about his "I love anal sex" web ring! Oi.(Editor's note: This person IS NOT a guy. I guessed, and guessed wrong. It being a girl takes her out of the "just wrong" category and puts her in the fucking HOTTT category. Thank you.) And finally today, I got an entry from Weetabix, whose username I can't figure out. Maybe I'm just a moron. Keep the linx coming. I haven't decided when I will close the contest. Maybe next Wednesday? That's it. More later. 8:12 p.m. - Wed., Jan. 16, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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