Josie is the Opposite of Hallelujah

This will be another entry written notoriously vague.

Recently I’ve been so happy I’ve been annoying the shit out of everyone with it – one last hit because I couldn’t resist it. I haven’t updated much because these bursts of fleeting euphoria doesn’t make for very inspirational writing. Unless you’d much rather read my tales of gag-inducing pet-name calling, cute-is-what-we-aim-for cuddling and saucy bedroom secrets. Yes, fleeting – always a pessimist. I’m afraid Melancholy and infinite sadness are pretty much the only things that drive me.

Yesterday, spent a crazy amount of time lazing around in bed, not that it was any different from every other weekend. A lunch picnic bed spread on curried-sheets with pate and parma ham and salami while I indulged in his awful movie tastes, curled against him cringing at Reese Witherspoon’s awkward faux Victorian accent. Hit up Butter Factory because it was finally time to party after living like 60 year old people waking up too early in the morning only to take naps in the late afternoon because our frail bodies are unable to keep up with our fading lucidity. I rolled in style, naturally – leopard prints because I am me-ow!

Bertha Mason and Mr Rochester had an unfortunate run-in, I’m anticipating the moment she decides to set the manor on fire. Hell hath no fury like a jilted lover’s wrath – if you’re going to fuck up your life you might as well do it properly amirite? I’d say Bring It Bitch but it seems my weapons of choice are limited to a laptop, a working internet connection and a blog. Such a pity, I’ve been saving my razor sharp wit – like a knife in a gun fight.  People who say the pen is mightier than the sword have obviously not had acid thrown in their faces or been strangled between the sheets. The lesson learnt here my precious, is to lock your doors before you sleep.

We’re both getting a day off tomorrow so it seems like the itinerary will be set for pillow-shopping. Domestic bliss although I’m probably the only loser in the world (with the exception of desperate housewives who hang out at the linen department at Tangs) excited about this shit. Curry in the evening – lately it seems like I’ve have had disgustingly uncontrollable urges to indulge myself with frivolity. I think it’s mostly because work has been making me want to bust my head open with a blunt object…what’s a little pampering. Just, someone shoot me before I turn into a Stepford wife – beep beep ribby ribby.

Probably finally going to break out Withnail & I. The good doctor says it’s sad. Which will probably make me cry – sappy movies are just about the only other time you’d see me weep (onions are the other) kryptonite. Not sure how I feel about bawling like a baby in front of someone else – sure we’re close enough for period sex to be put on the table but tears are a whole different ball park. You think I’m kidding about the last comment but I’m not.

Alright past my bed time, note to self: spend some quality time with Dr Dan, Fifi and the boys. Good-byte!