YES: Jimmy's XMas Party 05... hot cheese poured on the chest, Jimmy almost being sessually assulted and my coming to the rescue (it doesn't happen often, so I gotta brag when I can...), and Brussel Sprouts pop.
NO: Death Cramps for Cutie waking me up this morning at 8am, and not going away any time soon. Begone! uterine contractions from hell!
HEY: I need a haircut!
HO: Yo mamma!
HIGH: ...is not my tolerance level for jerk-off drivers.
LOW: ... is my bank account, woe be to it.
HELL: Sitting on Santa's lap,
NO: way am I doing you a favor if it involves 1) me putting on real clothes 2) if it involves me moving 3) if it involves me going outside 4) if it involves me in any way. I'm a cold-hearted bitch!

Alas, that 'list' is through, with nary a funny or enlightening quip. HOWEVER. It did highlight a few good things. But actually. I don't want to elaborate.

My boob is itchy, in other news, but moreso the area that connects to the arm. My feet are freezing. Winter air is harsh.

It's nice to have your sweater smell
like someone else still
the next day. Like an olfactory reminder
of what could be, or what already is.

I've become this weird person who cannot drink alcohol. I have a drink or two, and am done, sans buzz, sans giddy, salacious behaviour, sans slight headache the next morning (the perk). I need to holler at some Holiday Eggnog! or Jesus-y Brandy Slush! Or a Stoli Martini! The shakes are gone (I learned all about DTs last night...) but my psychological addiction to alcohol lingers...

Mmmm, good word... lingers...

Kinda reminds me of ligers!