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Archive for the ‘women’ Category


(The picture is unrelated, I just liked it.)

I was poisoned (and lived to tell the tale). I can’t help saying the last phrase, they just go together. I thought if you were poisoned and you died. But as I discovered, that’s not necessarily so.

It left my kidneys functioning at 55%. (I have already claimed dibs on my sister’s kidneys. Not that she’s going to wake up in a tub of ice or anything.) I started eating mostly vegetarian and my kidney function has come up to 90%. Still, it has left me with some residual pain.

Though I’ve thought of you and my blog these last several month, I’ve been drained of all energy. Good news, I’m starting to feel more energetic and I am blogging again.

Please be patient. It might be a while before I’m back to blogging everyday. I have missed you all and am looking forward to interacting with you again.

Dee

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haunted-house

On my way to New Orleans, I stayed in a less expensive hotel in order to save a little money. It seemed fine enough, except the carpet was sticky, there were no washcloths and no soap. The front desk clerk said they were out of soap, but I could have an extra packet of shampoo.

I slept with my coat on. I feel dirty and not in a good way.

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garden girl

My phone number belonged to a call girl before I got it from T-Mobile. She must have been really good because she still gets calls. I thought about answering numbers I don’t know with some themed response.

Since it was Christmas –

Do you want a one horse open sleigh or the whole team?

We’re running a two for one special on Santa’s Little Helper.

Would you like the two French hens and my partridge in your pear tree?

 

With this kind of talent, I should be writing erotica.

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I got a call the other night from a fan of the previous owner of my phone number, AKA a John. He was looking for Raxxxxl. Gentlemen, someone out there’s imitating men, giving you guys a bad name.

The conversation went something like this –

“Hello, what’s your hourly rate?”

“Excuse me?” (It was after all the middle of the night.)

“Are you still open?”

“This isn’t who you think it is. She changed her number a long time ago.”

“How much do you charge?”

“What? No, I didn’t take over the business, I got this number from <insert telephone company name here>.”

“Oh, okay. What are you wearing?”

“Really?”

“Are you busy?”

My imagined reply –

“Getting ready to ask some strange guy over who just called for late night sex. I’m at <insert address of older brother>. Ask for me, his baby sister.”

No wait. I’ll give him my address. This post could be rename to How to Meet a Serial Killer. Gotta run, I need to sharpen my axe before he gets here.

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