(no subject)

[quesarah]

I had a lovely email from one of my homies (she said ever-so-whitely). She mentioned that if she were to have a blog, it'd read something like "Mowed the lawn. Farted. Watched the cartoon channel. Scratched my choochie." This amused the hell outta me; she often does.

I got to spend some time this weekend with my *there's no male equivalent for fag hag, so I'll just call him a* friend. We drank beer, ate greasy food, flirted with the waitress, and he told me all about when he's going to pop the question to his girlfriend. Apparently, he's learned to shop for women's shoes since he's been with her. He mentioned something about "just picking out a cute pair of Via Spigas" and I did a double take. This is the same man who was talking about fly fishing not 10 minutes earlier. He confessed that he still has trouble picking out lingerie, and I reassured him that that's a much tougher purchase. He seemed relieved.

There are new surprises everywhere I turn. Hee.

Comments

[mosca.livejournal.com]

*there's no male equivalent for fag hag, so I'll just call him a* friend.

Dyke tyke! I mean, that's what we call them 'round these parts.

[biogeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but that makes him sound like he's toddling around in a diaper, not drinking beers with me. Thanks for the suggestion, though.