pooky <3's masochism

Look -- this person's handle is "iooi." It's like when I went to the Moneterey Bay Aquarium and almost cried after erupting in a fit of giggles upon watching an otter zip by clutching a little rubber ring to its chest.

On Friday I went to Nancy's birthday party. An hour before the party my mom gave me a ride to Hallmark so I could buy her a card. At first I had planned a blank card with a neutral image on the front, but instead I found myself browsing the assortment of cards under tabs that read "For Fun." Some of them were circular. In what had to be less than five minutes, I found one that I later purchased:

Scrawled on the front over a picture of a grapefruit was, "I figure my brain is roughly the size of a grapefruit. I've held one up to my head before, and it seemed like it would fit in there while still giving me ample room in my eye sockets." And on the inside: "Now I can't eat grapefruit anymore because it grosses me out. What I'm saying is, never compare one of your internal organs to a fruit size."

I debated whether or not the message was intended to be sexual innuendo, but I decided it wasn't. I have to think these things through, because once I almost bought a card for my piano teacher wishing her a very horizontal Valentine's Day.

Anyway, afterwards I went to KMart to get Nancy a token gift of Skittles. When I was younger and didn't have jurisdiction over what I wore, my mom bought me a coat from KMart. The zipper broke off later the same day. Now when I go to KMart I can't help but stare at the patrons and wonder if they, too, are purchasing clothing.

Somewhere between the flavored condoms and the sorry attempt at a pornographic photo shoot, Nick and I left Nancy's party for the Mall of America to buy a dozen glazed Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Pooky (Nick's '88 Honda Accord) seduced the traffic lights and received a spoonful of masochism as thanks, Nick bought Warhammer models, and I snagged a souvenir in the women's bathroom -- an advertisement for a weight loss program. I didn't know if I should be offended that my self-esteem would be preyed upon in a stall in a women's restroom, or if I should be in awe over such entrepreneurialism. I still don't know. I thought about it while Nick and I were in line at Krispy Kreme. It didn't take long to zip through the grand accumulation of people and make our purchase. Nick was insistent on eating a doughnut in the car, and he sporadically mumbled about his sticky steering wheel all the way back to Nancy's. We set up shop at a table in Nancy's basement, and a few guests approached us and asked if they could dine on a delectable Krispy Kreme doughnut. Even after passing out a few and eating some ourselves, there were leftover doughnuts. I agreed to pay Nick back come Monday and took the box home with me.

Yesterday Pat and I rented Analyze This. It was pretty good.

Speaking of movies, my parents are watching one in the next room, and songs sung by a children's choir are swirling into my humble MP3 collection.

Today Pat and I stopped by a gas station to vacuum Pat's car for five minutes or so, and then we went across the street to Granny Donuts to thaw with muffins and hot chocolate. In the words of ChubbyChic, "it's colder than a witch's titty." After that we went to an arcade. We played several rounds of Tekken Tag. A boy watched the machine with envy and I bumped into him when I leaned back on my heels, and when I asked him if he wanted to play a round against Pat he replied "Yes" with determination. After that we spent tokens on The Simpsons, Time Crisis, and the Playboy pinball machine. This time the Playboy pinball machine wasn't worth the two tokens I paid. Even with what must have been four extra balls I only sexed two of the twelve Playboy bunnies (I have a wealth of free time). I popped the last two tokens into a crane machine filled with candy and Pat was within inches of scoring a Snickers bar.

Around five Pat left for work. My little pizza boy is currently braving the Super Bowl Sunday rush.

Sometime after he left I swung by Mouse's diary and found a link to virtual Dance Dance Revolution. Now I'm addicted like a motherfucker.

I have to go toil away over homework now (or maybe get my fix of the aforementioned Flash Flash Revolution).

The end.