OH, GOD, YES, HELL YES.

If I were ever given the opportunity to do so, I'd totally throw a drink in Gwen Stefani's face.

I'm just sayin'.

ETA: Oh god, what am I saying? I'd never waste good booze on an endeavor like that ( Read more... )

Okay, I'm no longer allowed to wear my corset to work. Don't care how freakish I feel or how bored I think I'll be. All of my normal work duties send me home with enough oddly shaped bruises. I don't need any more. I don't ( Read more... )

Oh, guess what was giving me hives ( Read more... )

I could throw my lipstick and bracelets like gravel
And move to Alabama
I got some more scotch instead...

Then I died/ a thousand times
He hung me with the endless rope . . .

Goddamned prettyboys. And I really dig these lyrics. That's all.

So I've been tagged to do that thing where you make a list of the:

( Top Five fictional characters you'd like to shag in or about the laundry room after sharing a bottle of Plymouth and wrassling in the river for an hour or three. )

The Puget Sound Blood Center has been leaving messages on my home phone all week. It seems that I've been a lax donor and they need my mean reds post-haste. Fine. Fancy. There's no time for altruism like the present, right ( Read more... )

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Okay, so tonight we're supposed to attend an informal gathering of kinky poly-whatever broads who are into broads at the goddamned Cha-Cha Lounge. I'd like to go but I have to wake up at some obscenely pre-dawn hour so I can make my living feeding the still-legal addictions of folks in the Seattle business district. And I hate the Cha Cha Lounge ( Read more... )

In general, my customers are a pretty well-behaved bunch. The worst of it, typically, are the hotel guests who figure that, since they're sort of temporarily living there, they can treat me like their maidservant ( Read more... )