I am a sexual predator

Mother Nature has quite the sense of humor. She planned out the lives of men and women so that each would hit their sexual peak at exact opposite times. My time, I can feel, is coming quickly.
I find myself wanting to approach complete strangers and ask them to fuck me in the nearest closet. It's a sick, sick thing.
At my family reunion I wanted to fuck my cousin, Brandy. He's so cute and I don't really know him that well, so, I reason, what's the harm in a roll in the hay? Everyone I've talked to about this has said not to do it because our babies would be retarded, but I'm not looking to have babies with my cousin, just sex. Is that so bad?
I think I need a boyfriend. Someone who I can be terrible with in a safe way. So, if you find a guy, send him my way before I get arrested.

Portlandia, Land of Ports

I arrived in Portland on Friday after a long flight that was compounded by my hangover that was my punishment for going to a Teegan and Sarah concert the night before. As was expected on my three hour layover in Salt Lake City, Utah, I almost converted to Mormonism which may seem trivial, but since I also contemplated joining this religion the last time I was in Salt Lake, I now think that the airport must pipe in subliminal conversion music. ...just a theory.
Yes, but I digress, now I'm in Portland and staying with Ashley and her boyfriend,(wait for it) Ashley. Laugh it up.
They have the cutest place in a hip part of Portland. I walked around yesterday and was taken aback by the beauty. Then it started raining and I remembered why I love California. I like dust.
I forgot the USB connector for my camera, so until I get home or buy one, you are all gonna hafta wait for pix.

Marc

Badass 
Marc is a badass. No kidding. He's one of the coolest guys I know. He and I dated when I was stationed in Italy and I have to say that it was the least dramamatic relationship I've ever been in. I loved Marc, not only because he was so devastatingly handsome, and had the most beautiful body, but because he liked to drink. We had some fun times.
p.s. he isn't a crazy NRA guy, I didn't know he liked guns at all.

Life After Death

Some part of me thinks that after death, we live on through the thoughts of our loved ones. Therefore, for me, dying of a disease such as uterine cancer or colon cancer would put me in hell. Whenever people would think of me, they would inevitably get a mental picture of said organ/genitalia/etc. that did me in, and say to themselves, "ewe". Who wants to be remembered as "ewe?"
I can't really think of an death that would make people go "yay!" whenever I was recalled, but for some people, my death itself might be a reason for celebration.

...and the drama continues

I did a little recon on the poser. I think I might have to lay off of her. It turns out that she's really a wack job.

Poser

Some of you may be wondering, "why the creative commons button?"
well, it recently came to my attention that somebody was biting my style. All the way down to 101 things! Granted, her 101 things had a lot of "I was molested..." on it, but that's not my problem. Even the color scheme was too similar for me to stand there and let her call herself Trish the Dish.
I think we all know that there is only room for one.

IB

IB 

Imperial Beach, California has to be the worst place that I've ever encountered aside from Guam. There is no "good part" of town in IB. I have driven and driven around it looking for the "good part", but it is as allusive as your momma during Fleet Week.
Just today, I walked this pier in hopes of a better view at the end, but it wasn't there. Imperial Beach is like every relationship I've ever been in: it should be great, there's not reason for it not to be (except in the case of IB, where the reason it's not is it's proximity to a dirty ass Aunt Jane), but it's, simply, crap.
I'll try not to fool myself into thinking that there are anymore "good parts" to any relationship I encounter henceforth. I'll give up now and settle in to my inevitability: man hating lesbian with no girlfriend and too many cats.

Marathon Update

OK, so it's not a Christian rock marathon, but they are playing A LOT of Dave Mathews, I can't decide which is worse.

Whoever shot Kennedy did so to stop the parade.

It's 0630 on a Sunday morning and there is a Christian marathon run happening right outside my apartment. This wouldn't be bad if they didn't have the audacity to blare awful Christian music at such an ungodly hour. WWJD people?
I happen to believe in God, but I DO NOT like Christian music. It literally makes me want to vomit. Also I think that there should be some law making it illegal to assemble this early on a Sunday. Also, I think it's rude of them to play their faith inspired music so loud that my possibly un-faith inspired ears are forced to hear it.

THIS JUST IN:
If I wasn't already awake, the police just kicked off the marathon with their sirens blaring. Why God?

shudder

shudder 
I slipped and answered the phone.
The instant I heard the accent, I knew the gig was up. Why did I answer the phone?
He wanted to know why I hadn't been answering the phone, what he did. I hate that. I can pinpoint it, but he doesn't know how mean I can be, so I chose not to go into detail. I just said that he was inconsiderate. I telling people that they are this or that when it comes to relationships. I feel more comfortable being honest with complete strangers.
At any rate, the Aussie is comming over this afternoon to re-claim his vouchers. I shudder at the thought of seeing him or hearing his voice.