I was reading the times, wasting a Sunday with it in a way I never can when in school. Reading the health section I came across a little article that, without doubt, will help solve (e:Paul)'s stomach problems!

The article is called The Claim: Don't Eat the Mistletoe. It Can Be Deadly

But the line that got me was as follows

The plant does in fact contain harmful chemicals like VISCO-TOXINS, which can cause gastrointestinal distress, a slowed heartbeat and other reactions.

case closed.

Hi!

I had my last final yesterday! I did well. So that means I could drink myself into oblivion, right?

Well, I had to be at school at 7:45 for a seven hour long seminar on cover letters... mandatory of corse.

Three 16 oz plastic drunk cups of wine into last night I realized that perhaps I should hold off my celebration for a couple of days.

Today though I started going into postpartum depression. Oh, I hate school. But having nothing to do for a month drives me crazy. So, two hours of Nick Cave later I decide to have a martini.

A side note: Brokers gin is so delicious. So amazingly delicious for mid-range gin. It is cheap enough to come in an economy size jub, but good enough you might think it was a poor batch of Bombay (not sapphire).

Well. Tomorrow I have to be at a south Buffalo elementary school to take a teacher's exam at 7:45. Why do all waste of time teachery things happen at 7:45? It is going to be such a waste of time. 90 multiple choice questions assessing my basic knowledge of social studies. They are easier than the actual regent's exams.

But right now I am gin soaked and delusional from lack of sleep to care.

(e:IMK) it was a pleasure meeting you again for the first time ^_^ Next time I promise to be sober enough to remember details.

Here is the ranking Republican on the Intelligence comitee saying something so profoundly silly he would be purged if this was Soviet Russia.



My brain hurts...

But America has bigger problems!

A spider was bit by a radioactive human and is now attacking the Space Shuttle Atlantis!



Will Gamera save us in time?

God!

I am so bored of these sex scandals. So a Washington state house rep. with a huge conservative, anti-gay record named Richard Curtis got mixed up with the wrong 26 year old boy.

Cody Castanga, a porn ac-tor, met Curtis at a porn shop. They then went to a hotel where Castanga banged Curtis' man-punnanny. After he demanded $1k from Curtis to keep their tryst a secret. Hey, a boy has to eat!

So what does Curtis do? He files an extortion charge against Castanga. Which is good. Nobody should be extorted. However, denying you had sex is kind of silly when you are on survalence tape walking in and out of the hotel where you just had sex with the man!

He resigned from his office on Halloween of this year.

Look, gentlemen, we are having way too much of this! I am getting tired of journaling about you kooky men every other week when the world discovers you have an appetite for another man's ass. So I am going to do you a favor. Here are

James' tips for not being caught in a gay sex scandal

1) If you have a wife and kids, leave them. Pay child support and alimony. No child should discover that daddy is gay after a public restroom sting.

2) Are you crazily anti-gay? Well knock it off. Barney Frank is still around for a reason.

3) Come on, admit it. I am not saying you have to pop on out of the closet. But when the police catch you with a dick in your mouth, don't say you were just unsure how to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation.

4) By nice to the people you fellate. You don't want them writing about your poor sexual performance 30 years after the fact (I am looking at you Mr. Craig!)

5) Pay for it yourself. Don't make the city, or state pay your bath house bill. I am all for you getting off, but a $100 hand job better come out of your well lined pockets.

pay heed to my words gentlemen and your careers may last just flicker on a few second longer than your spooge coated super-nova.

Howdy,

How do you like to spend Christmas? With tinsel and trees and good cheer?

Or do you wake up at half passed whiskey and shave just a little too close around your throat?

If you are among the former. Then there ain't nothin' under the stars of heaven that can help you.

If you are among the latter. Then let Tom Waits and Peter Murphy croon their way into your vermiculited hearts.

I'll talk to you once I drown myself in bathtub gin.

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