Upon finishing my nightly workout (which I had been kept from since THURSDAY because of a prostitute from OHIO), I requested that Hoover prepare some of the fine exotic fruits that I bought at Jungle Jim's yesterday. So far, I HATE the Cuke-asaurus fruit thing that I bought, and the Pepino melon is only "ok." I just know that my durian is going to be orgasm-inducing, but I'm afraid of the withdrawal symptoms I'll experience once I've eaten it.

And I haven't tried the Uniq fruit because Hoover was all, "I'm so tried after cutting the other ones. If I was a real man, and had some muscles maybe I'd be able to cut it. But as of now, I'm a complete pussy."

I seem to have these unusual attachments to fruit. Like we're kindred spirits of some sort. In 10th grade, I had a pet orange named Marcus Aurelius. I did. You can ask catseye9. I kept him in my refrigerator (during the day, he went to school with me, natch) and eventually he turned green and my mom got all grossed out and disposed of him. I wasn't even aware of his demise. Isn't that sad?

And while it's not a fruit, let's not forget about my friend, Hoover the pickle:


The End.

I bought a durian at Jungle Jim's in Ohio (thanks for fueling my obsession, chunkstyle4). I'm in awe of it, and frankly, I don't think I'm ready to eat it yet. It's all I can think about, and today I raced home from work so I could see it.

The main reason why I bought it, other than it being weird, was because it looks like it takes an abnormal amount of work to open it. Which translates into more work for Hoover. The best part about it is the death dealing spikes protruding from its proximity. Truly lethal = bonus points. The Thai dude in produce told us that it has to stay frozen before it's opened or it loses it's flavor. So every time Hoover goes in the freezer, I hear "Ow."

And that, my friends, is what dreams are made of.

PS. I didn't get lost in Ohio this time. I did, however, learn that I'm dyslexic. Just part-time, though.

You know how when something cool is coming up, you don't get fully excited until the day of? Well, I woke up this morning and literally leaped out of bed and yelled, "Christina's coming today!" Joe is letting me leave early (by his standards) so I can pick her up at the bus station. I can't wait. There's so many things I want to show her and stuff, and I think even Hoover's a little bit excited, although he tries to put up that hardcore facade. We all know better. I haven't had a visitor since liquidcrimson stayed at my house, but that was 3 years ago. (When are you coming back, asspoker??)

Dan bullied me into searching online for Black Angus beef suppliers, and the search kept turning up sites for black angus semen. Gross. What was worse was browsing through endless websites with blown up pictures of beef plastered all over it. Mmmm. Yummy. (Reminder - I'm a vegetarian).

Hoover and I fought last night because he made me a blueberry protein smoothie when I wanted a carrot peanut butter smoothie. God, you think you have them trained and then they go and pull something like that. Anyway, he carried out his punishment by cleaning the bathroom.

I'm so happy that Joe is back from Aruba. I truly missed sopping up the piss puddles on the toilet seat.

My relationship with Hoover has reached an all-time low. We just had an argument over the location of the "alt" key. I said I don't like it's location, and therefore, I rarely use it. He said he was going to stab me in the pelvis and rip out my gallbladder and then piss in my ear.

He didn't really say that, of course. He's too unoriginal for that.

Current Mood: crazy

chunkstyle4 is coming to Pittsburgh to see me! And you know what's sad? Instead of thinking of all the great hot spots to take her to, I'm all, "Maybe she'll want to play release Friday night with me and Hoover's kids!" Isn't that lame?!?!?! I'm so excited for this, though! Even though she thinks I'm not. But it's like when someone asks their boy/girlfriend if they think they're pretty, and even when given the response they want to hear, they still find it necessary to dig their toe into the ground and say, "Nuh uh! Liar!!!" and then they run to their room and slam the door and start kicking the wall.

Um....I'm not saying that I know this from experience.

Anyway, she's busing it to Pittsburgh and then Saturday I'm driving us both back to her turf. First we're going to make a stop at a certain BP. Oh yeah, that's right.

So, I got another early wake up call this morning, requesting my presence at 6:00. Elliott keeps making Hoover call me, because I guess he's too scared to deal with the wrath of Jolted Slumber Ruby. When I arrived, I asked Elliott is everything was ok. He said that they had to "put Eric away," His wife left him a few weeks ago, and not that he wasn't already fucked up to begin with, but it really pushed him over the edge. Janna works at Jefferson hospital and intercepted his hospital report-thing. It said that he was admitted over the weekend for alcohol abuse. He drove his truck into a house, probably his wife's, and then backed into a wall or something. His sister tried to 302 him, but the hospital denied it. God only knows why. Anyway, something must have happened since then, because the hospital accepted the request this time. While Joe's not my favorite person by far, I feel bad for him, because no one deserves to have a son like that. So, it's the whole Catch-22 thing: while I'm tickled that Weiss Meats will be sans-Eric for an indefinite period, I'm irritated that I'm going to have to continue coming in at 6:00. At least Elliott is compensating me.

I'll leave you all with a sweet, cuddly picture of Hoover and Chris shoveling the sidewalks together.

It was the best I could do. Hoover caught on pretty fast and wouldn't stray too far over to Chris's side. I wonder if Chris thinks I'm weird. I wonder if I care....Hmmm. No.

Current Mood: Willie's in heat - hurray!

Stolen from vixencec:

Go browse through my list of interests and pick one that either you know nothing about or can't fathom why I'd be interested in that and ask for an explanation.

http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=vagynafondue

I may be setting myself up for a lot of explaining with this one. Lemme go get rid of some things, first. Er..

So, I went grocery shopping with Hoover after work. He really hates it when I accompany him because it means we're going to spend triple the amount allotted in our "budget." I put that word in quotes because Hoover acts like we're poor. I bought this gay ass green flower boutonniere and a St. Patrick's Day card for the President of Irish Heritage Irish meat cutter at work, Guthrie. Hoover did that disapproving eye roll thing that I hate so much. Anyway, when we were checking out, he shot me a sidelong glance steeped with fury and resentment. Ha ha.

Before that, we were walking around and I had a....zipper situation. It was the zipper on my fucking Weiss Meats piece of shit jacket. It always does that thing where it splits. You know what I mean? So Hoover had to fix it for me and he was all angry and yelling at me because I made it worse. Then he bitch slapped me. I'm kidding, of course. I bitch slapped him. He told me he felt like he was walking with one of his kids. I took that as a compliment, thank you.

Gilad's on!

Current Mood: content
Current Music: Gilad!

Hoover just said he's going to beat the shit out of me. I just wanted to put that on record. In case I end up in a ditch or something and the police start investigating.

********** EDIT **********

Hoover wants me to divulge the context in which the above statement was said. So what if I dove off the steps, nearly breaking his glasses and knocking off his bandanna? My god, he's such a crybaby.

I told Hoover I was going to look at the Pampered Chef website to see if there's anything cool for me to buy at the party I'm hosting. He goes, "Like what? A fork?" Har har.

I can't help it that I don't cook. I just .... don't like to. But Hoover does, so why try to change a good thing, right?

Current Mood: cynical

For a Sunday, it's been surprisingly pleasant and calm. No outbursts or temper tantrums on my part! We woke up early and went to our coveted hole in the wall, Bridgeville Diner, for breakfast. Then we went to the Mall at Robinson. Even though a pair of jeans didn't fit me, I still remained in a decent mood! Amazing. I do have a question though. How come my Express jeans are so big on me now that I'm constantly tugging them up, but a pair of same sized jeans at Hollister barely made it past my hips? This is why I hate shopping for jeans. I know I've lost weight since January, but according to Hollister, I need to be shopping in the heifer department.

Hoover finally scored The Chappelle's Show dvd at Coconuts so I won't have to hear about how I'm the world's worst girlfriend anymore.

Oh, and here's Hoover's testimonial on ephedra:

"I lost a lot of weight when I took Trim Spa with ephedra. I mean, I couldn't hold my pee and I had a pain in my side, but I still lost weight."

I asked Hoover if I die before he does, if he would read all of my private journals. He said no. So I said, "What if I give you permission right now, that if I die first, you can read them?" and he still said, "Probably not." That, my friends, is an insult.

By the way, I actually said this today: "Word on lj is...." I need bitch slapped for being such a fucking dork.