Pointy Little Baby Skulls

It was an absolute struggle to get in to work this morning. I even thought about canceling my lunch date, because I didn't want to have to stay late at work to make up for coming in late. However, dammit, my gaysian friends are awesome, and we were going to eat the meat. Tasty, fatty, greasy meat. One small problem: outdoor seating only. Tastiest motherfucking brisket sandwich I've ever shoved in my mouth, and I'm sitting at a rugged picnic table with my knees knocking together with cold. I couldn't even eat half my sandwich--my fingers were too cold to have an adequate grip. Guamaniac looked like a sphincter with his hoodie pulled around his face. A sphincter that sports a mustache. Oh, yeah. He gots the style! Squidly (that's right, I'm totally going to call her that), was totally enjoying her meat (we got fatty, none of that lean shit for us), and then suddenly, we all concluded at once that we couldn't sit out there any more.

For our little lunch date, I wore a special get-up that included fuchsia tights and a deep purple coat. I charmed the guy who did this awesome job of manhandling the brisket. He made that brisket sexy--he had the fat one ooze at me. Then when I was paying the other dude, Sexy Meat Man came and gave me an extra chunk of especially pretty pink brisket, saying, "Here's a special treat while you wait for your sandwich." The cashier totally rolled his eyes, and if I wasn't getting free meat out of it, I would have, too, since my sandwich was already ready, and I was about wo walk away with it. But come on, I am being wooed with some serious goodness. Now, did he fall for my awesome outfit or for my obvious joy of the meat? We'll never know. It was too cold to sit out there and see where he wanted to go with his free-meat-giving ways.

Beside slurping on meat with my two favorite gaysians, I actually did some work today. My love for spreadsheets is so great, that I have been known to actually take someone else's spreadsheet, and totally go to town on it. For no reason! It wasn't my job, no one asked me to do it, but oh man, when I get my hands on a crappy spreadsheet, I just want to sculpt it in to some pretty data joy. And that is what I did this afternoon. I made love to that spreadsheet. I am going to email it to the owner in the morning, and she's going to be astounded, and probably take credit for it. And that's ok. My little dalliance with it was so worth being snubbed in the morning.

MTV is showing some unaired footage of Teen Mom. There's a baby with Romaine lettuce on its head! And the father is nervously sucking at the kid's pacifier when his friends totally start being douches that his baby's mamma keeps him "wrapped around her finger." I just remind myself that these people are kids. Though, I know when I was a teenager, I would have totally slapped some one if that shit was said around me. You had a baby. You made a choice. Don't you dare make fun of one of the parents for the sacrifices they made. Man, I don't even like children, but for fuck's sake, once it is out, people need to be encouraged to take care of it. Otherwise someone like me might come along and tell your child it's ugly and to play in the street. Anyway.

Another scene has a different couple, and the girl lost her engagement ring, and bought a new one for herself at a K-Mart. Okay, I know it is not about the price of the ring, but seriously, there are other stores where you can get a nice ring that is cheap and didn't come from fucking K-Mart. I don't even know why this bothers me considering I hate the idea of an engagement/wedding ring. The Boy got me a nice ring in Vegas, and I happily wear it, but not on my left ring finger. Why? Because I'm not chattel. No one owns me. I don't feel I need advertise my taken status. That's what the tattoo across my ass is for. Ha.

Does Dr. Drew have emotions? Does he use Botox? I'm just asking. What are his true thoughts regarding the shape of some of those babies' heads that shot out of teen vaginas? Because those are some pointy little baby skulls.