I sleep with a flat-head screwdriver. It's lodged between the mattress and the boxspring because I've seen too many Jean Claude Van Damme movies. I have convinced myself that deep in REM sleep and snoring like I invented it, I will sense the presence of a malignant force and--in one fluid badasskungfumotherfucker motion--pull the screwdriver, flip out of bed, and shove it through his neck.

Paint the fence, Daniel-san, paint the fence.

Who am I kidding?! I'll probably just pretend I don't hear him and hope he doesn't try to steal my anal virginity or my Raiders season tickets; if I even wake up in the first place.

Do I get credit for having an impeccable sense of style even if I'm too lazy to put in the effort necessary to pull it off?

I'm inclined to say 'no' unless I pursue a career as a wardrobe stylist or an interior designer. Unfortunately, I hate Liza Manelli and love sports...so I'm kind of screwed.

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Lazy-Eyed Mormon just told me that her uncle said the reason she was single was because she doesn't like football!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAA!

FOOTBALL IS THE REASON SHE'S SINGLE!?! How about the fact that she's 5 feet 7 inches of pasty-skinned, lazy-eyed, snaggle-toothed, double-chinned Mormon idiocy? Oh, well yes...there's that.

Posted by nils at 9:10 PM

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