Bad. It has to be BAD. Thursday, June 05, 2008, 9:19 PM You know what? It's like using an Epilady for the first time trying to write a cohesive, entertaining and grammatically-correct blog post (not to mention intelligent and thought-provoking) when I'd really just rather kill my pain in the ass neighbor. How many times can you open and close your door with a WHACK before you become scum? Ten. Ten. Okay, Five. Kinda sorta relating to the idea of this post? It KILLED me using the Epilady the first time. I yelped, whined and gasped. Oogie was a witness. She was sitting in the dark brown leather vibrating chair--the chair that used to tickle my privates and make me go ooooh! And she said, amidst my 14-year-old wailing, "You have pretty legs." I was really surprised at the time. And pleased. It never occurred to me that I had pretty legs, or that Oogie would say such a thing to me. But that's when I started believing it. And now I believe I must ...kill .........the ....................neighbor. With a Karaoke machine. Because I sing really bad. So bad that it might as well be cataclysmic. What should I sing first?
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