Bullet Post

Today is a bullet post day, as my head hurts and stringing together sentences in a logical, transitional paragraphed manner is beyond me. Besides, I need to do a random brain dump anyhow.

• You'd think I would have learned by now, but no matter how many times I go to the pub on Friday evenings and say "I am NOT going to hurt myself", someone buys yet another round and I end up hurting myself.
  
• The hangover wasn't so bad, but the tension/stress/muscle/hormone headache I went to bed with and woke up with is of monumental proportions.
  
• I finally had to beg Rich to give me one of his muscle tearing, extremely painful but effective shoulder massages. He uses his elbows (not one for the finesse, is he) and just digs into the rock hard muscle of my upper back and shoulders. Hurts like hell, but it does work out some of the kinks.
• If my ass were as hard as my back muscles, I would wear a thong every day.
  
• Just the thong.
  
• I am drinking de tox tea.
  
• Tastes like grassy ass. Like if a cow crapped and they took the grass it crapped on and made tea with it.
  
• Eh, you get used to it.
  
• Am watching "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire". Need to get up to speed for the next movie, coming out next week.
  
• I keep hearing rumors that Harry dies in the last book. I fucking well hope it is not true.
  
• Last night at the pub, we had our usual scintillating conversations.
  
• This time it was about wanking and proper hand size for best effectiveness, words for wanking in languages other than English (to include Norwegian, German, French and Russian as reflected the nationalities at the table), general number of wanks in a week and whether right or left hand is better for said wankage.
• As usual, we had the masterdebate of length vs girth. The women all insist that girth is preferable, the boys insist on length. The boys should listen to the girls, I say.
  
• Yes, the Expat Life is Fabulous.
  
• Imagine a multi-cultural table full of middle aged Beavises (Beavi?) and Buttheads, and that would be the general level of conversation on any Friday at the pub.
  
• We laugh alot.
  
• At 11pm, we get kicked IN to the pub, as there is some rule that we can't sit out side after that time.
  
• The general idea is to get kicked OUT, but no, we get kicked IN. They like us.
  
• We had a catastrophic lack of toilet paper this morning and so I had to face the grocery store on a Saturday.
• (Note see how crude that transition was? I mean, you had NO warning I was going from pub conversations to toilet paper did you?)
  
• I always have a quiet giggle in the loo roll aisle. They always name the toilet paper using two descriptive words joined by "and".
  
• The toilet paper I prefer is called "soft and long".
• There is also "strong and soft", "soft and friendly", and for paper towels we have "wipe and clean" and "clean and long".
• These names always seem vaguely phallic to me.
  
• If I named toilet paper I would name it "long and hard", "turgid and pink" or merely "ass and wipe". A popular seller would be "big and thick".
  
• I bet they would be best sellers.
• I seem to be penis obsessed.
  
• It is a bit embarrassing walking home with a packet of toilet paper called "long and soft" tucked under your arm. Ditto "wipe and clean" paper towels.
  
• My detox tea must be kicking in. My burps smell like cow's feet.
  
• I know, I KNOW, I am sexy. You don't have to tell me that, for I already know.