They are pretty inane. I am, however, having fun writing a freelance piece on prom fashion. Would you believe the following styles are available for purchase to minors? Actually, I've heard some schools are experimenting with vocational training in the sexual trades, so look for these dresses on Future Sex Workers of America Club members. They're the new 'FFA brings camo to the Civic Center.'

 "Have you met my ass crack? I'll introduce you when we sit down for dinner."

 

 

No need to bother. The world's collective penis is already in her vagina.

 

 

Spring Break 2007 Club La Vela Wet T-Shirt Champion

 

 

To the girl who wears this dress: I forsee body shots in your near future. 

Jesus. What wretches we are.

And in my best behavior/I am really just like him/Look beneath the floorboards/For the secrets I have hid 

I did not like The Devil Wears Prada (the book; I didn't see the movie). It's 368 pages of frantic but boringly-written bitching. The narrator pissed me off in a major way, going on and on and ON about how bad her boss sucks, her job sucks, her life sucks, the universe sucks. I just wanted to scream at the pages, "Well effing quit your job, already! I've had enough and I'm just LISTENING to it, so for God's sake, haven't you?"

The funny thing is, I think I might be able to write 368 pages of bitching right now. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'd need about 400, give or take a few depending on how dinner turns out. It's really too bad I hate typing so much, because I think the diatribe festering in my soul could definitely be adapted for the screen, blockbuster-style.

I'll try to condense, if only out of concern for my server's capacity. Dumbasses, bitches, racists, divas, rednecks,  inept middle-managers, pageant princesses, forked-tongue Southern-belle wannabes, socially-retarded trolls who refuse to come out of their houses, whiny neighbors who strongly resemble human turds, spoiled 5-year-old rebels without a cause and passive-agressive parents who do that thing when they call you and then go, "Oh, IMAGINE THAT! Hey, honey, guess who I've got on the phone? You'll never guess! It's our DAUGHTER! Fancy speaking to you, ON THE TELEPHONE! I can't even believe it!": suck it.

In a text message from my sister, Angela:

The desk in front of me says "ball sack." I like the simple poetry of that--no "so-and-so is a," etc., just two simple words: Ball. Sack. 

For the longest time, I've wanted to go to Thailand. It seems so exotic, sexy, mysterious to me. It's also sort of cliche, as pointed out in Wednesday night's episode of Lost:

ACHARA: So, you're in Phuket to find yourself.

JACK: Why would say that?
ACHARA: You are an American.

In case you didn't already know, I'm a HUGE Lost fan. It's the only TV show I watch, actually, and even though I think it's gotten a pretty convoluted and the plot is dragging, I'm still in love. Wednesday night was a "Jack" episode, with flashbacks to a trip he took to Thailand. First of all, Matthew Fox (who plays Jack) might be the most aptly named actor ever, and secondly, I am crazy about his character. Now, put him in sexy, exotic Thailand, make him a little rawer and dirtier, and MY GOD DID I HAVE SOME UNCLEAN THOUGHTS.

As it happened, on Thursday, the director of the trapeze studio had a Thai massage practitioner come to our class and teach us some basic Thai massage. The practice requires a giver and a receiver, and the giver positions the receiver in yoga postures and applies pressure with different parts of their body to stretch and loosen muscles and joints. The teacher emphasized that the giver should not suffer to give the massage, that it's no good if you're struggling. It's just about using your own body weight and strategic positions to create an enjoyable experience for both the parties. It can also be extremely hot. There's lots of talk about "releasing" tension from the muscles and connective tissues, and the giver continually encourages the receiver to "let go."

Last night I shared some of my newly acquired skills with Conrad, and I've got to say, Sexy Thai Masseuse and Hot but Stressed Out American might just be my new favorite game. Today I think we're signing up for a Frequent Flier program in the hopes of furthering our exploration. Bangkok, here we come!