juicebox

I have accepted the fact that I have so very little time to actually spend chilling in SGLand. I haven't even written a journal entry in three months.
Marvelous bought me a copy of the SG book for Xmas, but I guess it was back ordered, and the company never sent it Also, we never bothered to order a subscription to Playboy (for the articles, of course), and she's been hiding the porn I got her for Xmas, so there is a distinct lack of what MidWesterners call 'offensive material' laying about our livingroom.

I need to fucking chill out, cause after I heard on NPR that the DHS has a pilot program of placing immigrants who are applying for greencards on house arrest, with the anklets and all (6pm to 6am cerfew), I flipped out, and began plotting my escape to an island where I can subsist on the native flora and fauna (I loves some well-cooked fauna), and NEVER HAVE TO SEE ANOTHER HUMAN BEING AGAIN! But then there would be no sweet sweet lovin, because I just don't find antelopes sexy. Besides, scratching is one thing, but impalement is beyond kinky.
(sigh) Might as well make myself a yellow felt Star of David, and get it over with... Where the hell are the Bond villains bent on annihilating the world when you need them?