Good god damn. The days are getting darker earlier, it's getting colder outside, I feel like shit from the flu shot, my computer at work is completely possessed (and IT won't give me a new one, for the love of...), I'm broke and cranky... I feel like I never really get back to the fun loving young chick I used to be. It's like as time goes on, I just get crankier and crankier. I can't wait until I get old so I can just sit on the porch and yell out things all day, anything I want. I'll of course be drinking my wine, rocking back and forth in the sun - either on a porch, or perhaps my YACHT - and people will be like, "That crazy lady? Oh, that's just Lani. She's old. She has the right to say whatever she wants." And rightly so!! Or, why even wait until I'm old? Why wait to say that I HATE George bush and I hope he dies and goes to hell. I hope the guys from Enron go to sleep with a sweaty cock in their mouths every night in a tiny, dirty cell. The Matrix is REAL. Women should be allowed to breast feed in public. I don't give a flying fuck about any Hollywood actress' or actor's love life, drug problem, eating disorder or plastic surgery. Just exactly HOW does one get a gerbil stuck in their ass? And so on and so forth. What I really need is a boat. A yacht. How dope is that? Think about it: you buy a yacht instead of a house then you can move WHENEVER you want!! Just pick up anchor, literally, and go. Sure you have to scrape barnacles off the damn thing, but what home doesn't need maintenance? And I'd be all tan and glistening, wearing sarongs all day and whispy white blouses at night. And I could have my very own cabana boy, but on a boat!! I would never again have to buy an airline ticket, and I can have all the fucking hairgel and toothpaste I want for my trip. No more suitcases, no more sidewalks to shovel in the winter, no more neighbors blasting music in the apartment across the hall. Just the sun, sea, wind and port. And my sweet, ruddy faced, maleable, strapping young cabana boy. (Can I have the cabana boy now?)
2 comments:
OOOH, a cabana boy...you read my mind! I say, we pool our resources, buy the damn yacht, and put an ad up on craigslist seeking two beautifully foreign cabana boys...YUM!!
Ha ha ha! Or you could join Jay. I always tell him he's going to be the old crotchety guy on the porch that kids dare each other to touch on late night walks by his house. Ha ha ha! I can just see the two of you, sitting on the porch and throwing eggs right back at those punk ass kids.
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