Super Awesome Vagina Stuff

Well first off, congratulate me. I am a certified juggler. A
theoretical juggler, of course. The only talent I've ever had with real balls
stems entirely from my mouth. I am otherwise clumsy in that regard. But the
point is, I've mastered the juggling of whims.
 
There is school. The professor that I keep taking classes
from finally asked when I'm gonna leave. Maybe because I grilled him on a
statement he made. I didn't disagree, I just wanted to make sure I had my facts
straight before I spread the news. Get this: Japan had already agreed to
surrender before we dumped both atom bombs. It was just a matter of drafting
the agreement. I find this highly disturbing. I specifically remember the
lecture in 10th grade where I was told that we couldn't get the
Japanese to surrender in WWII so we dropped one bomb. That was Hiroshima. Then
they were dragging their feet so we dropped one on Nagasaki. Then they got
their feet moving and Japan was out of the war. I even remember seeing it on
the tests. I aced that class. And now, almost a decade later, I learn that it
didn't exactly happen that way. We are never heroes when all the facts come in.
 
I'm not surprised. Just mad. I remember my first semester of
college when I found out about the Japanese Internment. Right here on American
soil we put people in concentration camps based on race. It was the same
discussion I had today. I asked the professor everything I needed to ask to
make sure I had it straight then I asked why I never heard about this in high
school. Same response--a lazy shrug. They apparently have this conversation a
lot.
 
There is the puppy fostering. Potty training is not joy.
It's especially bad when you're running off to the aforementioned polisci class
and you pick up your backpack and realize it's gonna have to sit this one out
because someone peed on it. It's also not so joyous when their sleep schedule
is antagonistic to your own. I went to bed at 3 am. They rose at 7. It's
actually also not so joyous to come home to a box of 24 tampons individually unwrapped
and disassembled and strewn across the house. But now I'm getting into that
murky female realm that men don't want to hear about.
 
There is the gym. I'm back at it and I still don't like it
and we'll leave it at that.
 
There's the long list of rather unsuccessful attempts at the
extracurricular. For example:
 
1. Acting--I started working with an improv coach who sends
me home with textbooks that I don't read just like in real school. He made me
pretend to walk like various animals on day one. I am not good at that. That
could have gone without saying though. I'm kinetically retarded.
 
2. I tried taking up gardening for a day. I planted tomatoes
and zucchini and cucumbers and eggplant. My rabbit ate the tops off of half of
them and one of the puppies peed on the rest and I filed it away in my little
black book of failed hobbies.
 
3. I also thought I'd be really into long distance bike
riding if I had someone to ride with so I flew to St. Louis to do a big ride
with a friend. The only experience I brought back from that was a tornado
padded by two days of rain.
 
But for all the small frustrations it seems like I've
accumulated over the week there is one shining orb in the distance that keeps
me sane, and that is the release of my very special porn.
 
"The Smiths" streets on May 4th, and I have the
hook up so I've already seen it. I must say I'm impressed. It has all of the
things you need in a movie--that being top notch vagina doing top-notch things and
non-irritating dialogue. I'd go so far as to say good dialogue. And really
awesome vagina stuff. Trust me, as one person who likes sex to another, you
need this porno.
 
So here's the link. Do your pre-ordering thing my friend.