trocar

Well the moustache is a thing in memory now, it was getting somewhat irratating, not physically mind you but ever time I saw my reflection I had to work hard not to giggle like a schoolgirl. Maybe I just don't have the maturituy for an item Spongebob would describe as tantamount to manlyness.

I came across this tidbit last week, the hearse girls, a squad of especially dark females employed only for the purpose of posing on yes-you-guessed-it, funeral coaches. I'd feel downright selfish if I didn't share,
go here.



I've been hitting the gym, bustin' out the old shread sled, and indulging in morning meditation in an effort to revitalize myself and be better prepared for the common stresses of life. Like David Bowie said "I'm not a prophet nor a stone age man, just a model with potential of a superman." How he was able to cast such an apt description...I'll never know.

The high note I chose to leave on will be the word once spoken to me by a post-op transexual in a shady coffee house "Bitch if you call me Rory one more time I'm gonna slap you...hard...then I'm gonna make-out with you...harder." It's funny 'cause it's true.