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This entry has nothing to do with cheese
Written on 2001-09-10, at 2:34 a.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1/2 Shrimp and Angel Hair Pasta (Leftovers)

1 Jones Bubble Gum Soda

1 Turkey O'Toole Sandwich

1 Strawberry Lemonade

Does it seem wrong to anyone else that MTV has their annual night of musical debauchery at the sacred Metropolitan Opera House?

Well, it seems wrong to me.

Instead of La Traviata, we get Latoya.

Instead of Carmen, we get Carson.

Instead of arias, we get aureolas.

Well, in Lil' Kims case, at least.

Where's all my soul sisters?

They've all moved on from this song. Everyone else should as well.

While in the supermarket the other day, I was buying Astroglide. You know, I think I've talked about buying lube at least three times in the course of keeping this diary, yet I never mention having sex.

You figure it out.

So anyway, I'm buying lube. Again, it's Astroglide. Now, as we all know, you cannot JUST buy lube, or condoms. For some reason, you have to buy something else that is TOTALLY unrelated.

Like ham.

Which is what I was buying.

Lube and ham.

Ham and lube.

Good, now that I'm safe from ridicule, how embarrasing to have to buy just lube...

But as I'm being rung up, she makes it a point to look at the little clear bottle of love that I was purchasing.

"You SMELLED this before?"

Startled, I said..."The ham?"

"No...this...it smells a lot better than that K-Y."

So the bottle of lube sits here, unused, as it now has the stigma of an overweight black woman lecturing me as to the olfactory pleasantness of my personal lubricant.

Tonight was one of the two overnights in a row at Gap tonight, and those...well, they're never fun.

However, I make them fun.

One of the girls at work just got her tongue pierced.

Now, she's very self conscious about it, and tries very hard not to talk funny.

So I gave her a page of item numbers, all with lots and lots of 6's in them, and made her read them off to me for no real reason.

Strange, she didn't find it very funny when she realized there was no real point to it.

We all went out to dinner at about 10 o'clock. Bennigans, to be exact. When we were seated, the server came to take our orders, looked at me, looked at the rest of the table, and said...

"Wow, eight girls and you, you're a lucky guy, huh?"

To which I replied..."Yes, lots of clothes I can borrow."

I think she may have spit in my food.

I want to live out Kafka's "Metamorphosis", except when I wake up, I want to be an ant.

That way, I can crawl over to my kitchen, and ask all the other ants where they are hiding, and how they get in, and that it's ok to tell me, as I, like themselves, am simply a brother ant.

Then once I have their trust, I'll become a human again, and unleash havoc on the little bastards.

And yes, I'm quite aware that that's not how "Metamorphosis" ends.

Be well...


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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