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Okay, those who know me, know that I’m very protective of my loved ones at best, over-protective of my loved ones at worst. So I just found out last night from Lori at Starbucks that this one massage/acupuncture place was actually a whorehouse; not only were none of the therapists licensed massage therapists, but they were giving the guys handjobs and blowjobs. Whatever. I have no problem with that. What I have a problem with, is that over Thanksgiving, my mom’s back was hurting and I sent her over there and she got a massage there. Brian told me not to tell her and I haven’t, but I’m really pissed off that a fucking whore touched my mom, and that I sent the poor woman in for it.

January 22nd, 2004 | Comments Off on

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    experimental stream of consciousness writer who may or may not be a liar. sanest person you've ever met but i'll look you in the eyes like a computer eating magnets. what i don't know about you, i'll make up. and you'll still love me because you don't know where i went that moment you swore i disappeared. my moods chase the seasons and i hear it makes an interesting read. i like smelling good.

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