Picasso: "To brush the dust off our souls."

-If you've ever wondered why we need art in our life, just remember Picasso's statement. It sounds better than me fawning over things by using my uber feminine voice like I do when I see puppies.

What a day! My dogs came back from their day at the spa where little doggie asses were shaved and hair was tied up into bows. Mind you, that's just 2 of them while the other 3 visit tomorrow. Ellie-Mae is going to be shaved thanks to some major tangles she won't let us comb out.

Speaking of shaved, I'll be heading on out to Indiana possibly Saturday early evening. That means some minor pube trimming and packing happens. It's amazing how different packing for a weekend with the boys is compared to time with Sara.

For the boys, I'll keep an assortment of nudie posters or pictures to give out as gifts. Nothing spells out our gosh darn tootin' love for each other than pictures of big boobies and nicely trimmed bushes. The last visit found me giving Bald-O that porno I found in the gym's locker room. Was he happy? I'm sure he was wishing we'd all leave so Bald-O could have some time alone with whatever lube he could find, possibly motor oil.

For Sara, it's been all about The Sopranos since she's now on Season 5. Other than that, more clothes than what I take down south while various DVDs are tucked in order to keep me busy while she's at work. Other times, I'll bring things that Sara might like to see or read, assuming she might have missed them. I used to bring little gifts but gas money has kept me tight as a nun's bottom during the cafeteria's serving zuccini.

Gas prices went right up today, from $2.97 to $3.39. My mom got alerted by her friend so the 2 of us went out and filled up right away. For me, it's thanks to my preparations for Indiana since the $2.97 had me at a total of $34. Gas has been such a bitch so I can't wait til I get that new car that runs on alternative fuels. Exxon no longer has me to kick around.

Editor: "Buy Volkswagon!"

But some good news of the day. Gay Nick said I am *ahem* more defined in body. Whoo! When a gay man gives you his honest opinion after you've chugged your ass off on the treadmill, this makes you float around. I love it! I had a feeling that things have been changing ever since I started that running on the treadmill. My lifting has gotten much easier as I bicep curl 150 pounds (That's a high school freshman) and bench 3.75 plates (above 300 pounds).

And don't go thinking I spend too much time in the gym. I'm in and out pretty fast thanks to a set-up that focuses on the main parts followed by my run. The only thing that slows me down is if I talk too much and, lordy, I can at times. Give me my ghetto bootie sister, Tamallah, and we won't shut up. The black girls in my gym call me a woman thanks to my love of shoes.

Reporter: "This just in. That Indian girl with the fraternity boyfriend is now talking to Hedgehoggy! She's back to waving and smiling at our hero while she runs on the treadmill. Unfortunately, she leaves for college on August 23rd. Boyfriend not included."

You know what? I just don't understand women's butts. Running on the treadmill has you looking at a lot of 'em, big and small. How is it that black women have these big but curvy asses while white women with big asses are flat? Right next to me on the treadmill was a gorgeous black woman with a very toned body. The only thing I wasn't used to seeing was a very curvy ass.

Look at it this way. On the other treadmill next to mine was a white girl that was pretty much the same size only her butt was barely existent. Why is it that white women have such boring asses? I'm not saying that a large bootie is best but I wonder why skin color almost always defines what kind of ass a woman's gonna get.

It's funny how this subject on women's asses gets a huge laugh out of my girls of soul. T has one of the largest asses for a woman so toned. In no way is she shy of it but comes in tight lycra pants just daring you to look. Just beware of how you talk to my friend for her fiancee is the size of a big bodybuilder. Word.

Oh, a certain Diarylander's birthday is coming up. One month and 3 days til I receive lots and lots of birthday wishes, right? That terrible time of finding something for me as a gift happens as well. What do you get a guy that pretty much has everything? The answer's usually: more of everything. Nah. I value creativity but also a person's knowing me well enough to know what I want.

I've always played lots of clues to people as to what I would love to receive. Parents don't count because they only give me money on the sole belief that only I know what I want. Boring but works.

You may think it's all about getting things but no, no, no, and no again. It's more about whether a person knows me. If Bald-O's birthday was tomorrow, I'd know what would make him blurt out orgasmic squeals in the gift giving department. The best was when someone gave him a scrapbook of pictures consisting of all of us in college. My jaw dropped when I saw this because I wished someone would do that for me. Under the caption, "The Man Of My Dreams," is pictures of Bald-O and I singing to each other.

FYI: The song was Garth Brooks's "Shameless" as we passed a bar of deodarent back and forth while singing into each other's eyes. It was bad, real bad. Yes, I have my Will Ferrell moments.

- - 2009-07-07

Love Facebook - 2009-05-07

Retards Away! - 2009-02-16

Jackasses! I Sees 'Em! - 2008-11-28

My Birthday Happened - 2008-09-07