mychai's Diaryland Diary

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What's worse than wearing wet socks?

One day, I will go to Halloween parties as the Count on Sesame Street. Ya know... just to annoy people.

"One Jack and Coke! Ah Ah Ah"
"Two Jack and Cokes! Ah Ah Ah"
"Ok. One kick in the ass! Ah Ah Ah!"

So... what's your opinion of those hoity-toity people who spell it Hallowe'en? I think they are "holier than thou" types who also say po-tah-to instead of po-tay-to and hold their little pinkies out when they drink tea.

I think they are the types who actually drink tea.

Actually... *blush* I drink tea. I actually have two different tea pots. And I drink about three gallons of iced sweet tea each and every day. I'm Southern. What do you expect?


I wrote down a few things yesterday while going about my daily business that I will share with you.

First off... Have you seen those commercials for the wet toilet paper? I think Charmin may be putting those things out. It's so you feel "especially fresh" once you wipe your bottomside.

Call me crazy, but the idea of having a cold, wet, limp piece of toilet paper rooting around my ass does NOT sound like a pleasurable experience.

But I do have a great idea for a great toilet paper product that I think would sweep the nation with much fervor. If this product was out on the market, I would definitely go and buy it. Especially now, since it is currently in th 30s here in Missouri.

Of course, I am talking about heated toilet paper. Think about it... a 105-degree piece of soft linen caressing your nether regions as you ooo and ahh on the throne.

Everyone loves a fresh, hot towel straight from the dryer when they get out of a shower. It feels so good -- warm, soft, perfumed -- all over your body. But does your butt crack get the warm lovin' that, say, your face gets? Nosirree. That's why we need warm toilet paper to give your whole body pleasure.

If any of you toilet paper CEOs who read my diary wants to contact me about the idea, I think you know where to find me.

...

Know what I hate? I hate those watches that have alarms on them.

Know why I hate them? Because, almost EVERY FRIGGIN TIME the alarms go off, the watchs' owners never go through the effort of lifting their right hand, crossing it over to their left, and pressing the small button that would silence the alarm.

Instead, we hear Beepidy-Beep. Beepidy-Beep. Beepidy-Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep.

This, of course, happened near me at the library yesterday. You know... the place that they used to be pretty adamant that you shut the fuck up. Nowadays, librarians don't mind if you do shop class in the middle of the library. Civilization has been shot to shit.

This idiot's watch beeped for, no lie, three minutes. After the second minute, I got up, walked over to the guy, and just stared at him until his watch quit beeping.

Ok. That's a lie. But if I could have found the guy, I would have done something similar to that. So, if you have one of these watches, PLEASE for the love of God, when it starts beeping, press the little "shut the fuck up" button. Give us all a little bit of sweet silence


Guess what *I'm* going to start doing in just over a week. C'mon... guess!

Nope.

Uh-uh.

Strike three. Give up? Ok. I'll tell ya.

I'm going to start taking music lessons. Shall I make you guess which instrument? Ok. I'll spare ya.

It all spawned from when I went home last week and went to my friend Lish's house. She showed me some new instruments that she bought, and one of them was a violin. I have always, always wanted to play the violin. I remember being in first or second grade thinking that I will one day hold that instrument under my chin and be the envy of every lady. And then, as I got older, I noticed that there are a disproportionately large number of Asian women who play the violin. Oo la la.

One tug on Lish's bow, and I was hooked. I went to the music store across the street yesterday and did some pricing on violins. I found a real nice beginner violin with case and bow for only around $150. They also teach violin lessons there with a first-class music teacher.

I am so stoked! It's always very exciting to start something you have always wanted to do.


Well, that about wraps up another wonderful JP entry.

I promised you all my creative writing project from yesterday. It was just an exercise and not intended as a masterpiece, so read it with that in mind.

Remember that the assignment was something like "write a scene involving one person asking for something that another person is unwilling to give up." Now, the obvious story line would have involved a guy asking a girl for sex.

But then I thought, who needs to relive every Friday night in his own writing?

So, this story is called Begging. I hope you like it.

9:44 p.m. - Thurs., Oct. 31, 2002

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