yes, I talk about my boobs

For Jane

I'm finishing this entry the next day. Work with me here.

For some strange reason, the Maxim Hot 100 is on my TV right now. It's really motivating. Whether it's motivating me to get up and run in the morning or just give the fuck up and make sloth a true profession rather than a hobby is a whole other question. I just need somebody to tell me that Beyonce has stress breakouts, Megan Fox has an IQ of 52 and Jessica Simpson wears a girdle. I'm feeling Mean Girls right now, somebody help me out.

Somebody also help me remember to mail back my damn Netflix. The whole reason I signed up with them was because the no late fee thing, but I think I might be stretching that just a bit at this point. There's probably somebody out there waiting for Bill Hicks to come back in and I just don't need that kind of stress right now.*

I'd also like somebody to come over and help me get rid of the gnats in my house. Yes, I leave my house open when it's not stupid hot outside, but I've never had a problem with these damn gnats. I clean my kitchen every night, I take out my trash regularly, I'm a clutterbug but I'm not a nasty slob, yet I have this cloud of gnats. Please, help before I resort to hanging those little fly strips all over my house like some kind of Goddamn white trash Christmas garland.

While we're on the subject of me, me, me, could somebody please help me figure out a way to remember all my shit in the morning? I could put a big dry-erase board on the back of my door, but unless I update it every night (rather than leaving a standing list on it) I will eventually start ignoring it. I can hear you say "well, dumbass, update it every night." Trust me, I'd do it for about 2 weeks and then? Start forgetting. Honestly, I fully expect Jef to get a phone call one day, "Mr. Sexy? Yes, we have your wife down here at the police station. Well, sir...it appears she forgot to wear pants."

I forgot my laptop this morning. My laptop - my WORK machine. Bah. Stupid brain.

And finally, I need someone to give me a way to make my boobs stop itching. I have to wear an underwire bra, otherwise I'd have a giant monoboob and Jane would stop talking to me altogether. And I don't know if y'all know this, but in Texas? In the summer? It gets hot. Motherfuckin' hot. Underwire bra + 100 degree heat = gross sweaty underboob, which then translates into itchiness. I've tried baby powder - that seems to make it worse. I've tried lotion - eh. I wear cotton as much as possible, but when you're dealing with the giant tits, you take what you can get. "Oh, burlap..and it's the only one in my size. Well okey-dokey then."

Anyway...yes, it's gross. But I can't spend another summer covertly clawing at the underside of my boobs. Help a sister out.

So yeah, that's it. I have NEEDS, people.

*Next morning and the Netflix are still on my coffee table, safely sealed up in their jaunty red envelopes.