Grant (the Grantichrist over there --->) wants me to jump on his bandwagon of posting half-nekkid Asian women on NAY. Grant, ol buddy, there's just no way. Those girls make a big ol' German/Irish girl like me very very ANGRY, for the Asian sweeties are all about the tiny, the teacup-sized, the well-gapped, the demure, which are in direct opposition to what I was bred for, which is farm work and plenty of it.
Geisha, I ain't, and to scour pictures of those teenaged fresh-faced honeys that you so enjoy would be to depress me ever so much more about being 'older' and staring myopically into the craggy face of middle age.
Plus which, at work the internet is acting funky, and I'll be lucky to post anything at all, much less pictures, or font formatting without hardcoding, or any fun shit like that. Sorry, Grant, but you are on your own when it comes to displaying almost-naughty photos of hotter than hell Asian schoolgirls/nurses/bikini babies.
Some people have ALL the nerve, don't they?
Going out to dinner tonight with a good friend that I don't get to see as often as I like. She's a fierce chick for sure, who is into all kinds of stuff so has very little free time, which makes getting to hang with her for a whole evening all the more special.
We're trying a Greek place not far from where we work and where she lives. It'll be about an hour's ride home for me after dinner, so I'm going to have to go slow on the ourzo, sadly.
After what I'm sincerely hoping is going to be an evening that leaves me hoarse (what with all the talking and stuff) I've opted to work at HOME tomorrow, which is sweet like honey and as soothing a thought as diving into a bed of marshmallows (because obviously all good things are food-related).
Maybe I'll take a lunch break tomorrow and spend some quality time in the front yard picking out some of the brazilian WEEDS that have invaded out poor baby front yard, turning it from a potential lush green carpet of perfection into some zit-spangled turfly teenager, spotted with weedly acne, a embarrasing blighted stretch of rough going. Poor baby lawn. I feel BAD for it, if you can imagine. Something must be done, and an hour spent crouching in the yard yanking out unattractive botanical interlopers might do me some good (and get out some o' dat old anger).
Yes - I am a high-flying social butterfly with sparkly weekend plans, thanks for asking.