Let's turn back the clock, shall we? A decade? Perfect. Note the old-school Mountain Dew can and the MARLBOROS (ewwwww)!!

I just heard the Moody Blues song "Candle of Life." What a great fucking song! It boosted my mood.

I hope everyone has a great weekend. I have loads of laundry to do, and am looking forward to watching good TV all weekend long.

And why hasn't Stuee accepted my marriage proposal? Is he MAD?

Here is a photo of me jamming to some REALLY loud music. I used to sit, in my room, during the summer, long after the turds were in bed, and chat on the internet for hours. I'd get really drunk and chain smoke. And I had a webcam...bad combination. Use your imagination.

Please excuse the really ugly eyesore link thing on the post below this one.

I thought I'd be smart and put my favorite video up, but the code doesn't work for Blogspot, and I am unable to delete the post.

Damn it!

Hi!

Holy shit! I just bit my tongue very, very hard and am anxiously UNawaiting for the coppery disgusting taste of blood to fill my mouth. Disgusting.

I'm putting an interesting spin on my blog today. It's entitled "FAQs." So, let's get to it, shall we?

FAQs

Q. Why do you swear so much? I mean, isn't that unladylike?

A. Well, yes. It is. However, I find that using swear words can make a sentence very colorful and filled with emotion. I won't deny that I'm probably enjoying it, too. And besides...if you're a prude that is turned off by a simple swear word, we probably don't have a lot in common anyway.

Q. Are you a slut?

A. A lady never tells.

Q. Are you mean and bitter?

A. Why yes, yes I am. Well, not so much mean. But I am disinfranchised with life sometimes, as I think we all are. Mean? Depends on who you ask. To the people who cry if you look at them wrong, yes, I'm probably very mean. When people call me mean, it's unintentional on my part, and I always apologize. I'm just forward.

Q. Do you have a mission?

A. Basically my mission is to be a fantastic mother, and to help out those less fortunate than me. I am involved in a zillion volunteer and charity efforts, and I wish I had time to actually put some sweat into projects like Habitat For Humanity, but I don't. My heart and my money is all I have to offer right now, I'm a very busy woman.

Q. Do you believe in love at first sight?

A. I believe in love at first conversation, absolutely. Is that logical? No. Does it feel good? Fuck yes!

Q. Has anyone ever told you that you look like Sharon Stone?

A. Yes.

Q. Do you believe in God?

A. Yes. And I'm not debating it.

Q. Do homeless people irritate you?

A. No. Unless they harass and talk in an intimidating and vulgar manner. Otherwise I'll help anyone out that I can.

Q. Are you anti-choice (pro-life)?

A. No. I am 100% pro-choice, and it's ok if you're not. Men who are anti-choice, I've got some great advice that I learned from my good friend Erika. Don't like abortions? Don't have sex with a woman who will have one.

Q. What's the most painful thing that's ever happened to you?

A. Physically? Getting a wire fed UP a vein in my arm. And I'm talking, the entire length of my arm. It took about fifteen minutes and I was openly crying from the pain. I would rather have my nose sliced off sans anesthesia than go through that shit again. Emotionally? Losing a loved one, whether it be from someone passing, or a man leaving my life.

Q. What's important to you in a friendship?

A. Selflessness, empathy, REALNESS, wisdom (a huge one), and a good asskicker (i.e. Jessica, you're being a bitch, STOP IT!).

One more thing I am extremely thankful for...

That I am not a kiss-ass. You know the type. The "me! me! me!" type. "Everyone, look at me!" And with women, it's worse. They'll go to any length (even if they're married) to get attention from a man. They'll laugh at his jokes, even when they're horribly unfunny, preen, etc. etc.

Church say Amen!

xoxo @ Sabrina

Describe, in detail, your worst date ever. I will post mine later on today when I don't have as much work to do.

Remember...honesty is the best policy, be as vulgar and forward as you please!

**********Here it is! It's kind of long, but I like to write...so, deal.

It was a bitter cold December evening in 1999 and my best friend and I went to First Avenue in downtown Minneapolis for Salsa night. I should have known something was wrong when we had to stand outside in 10 degree weather for two hours, and to top it off I was wearing knee high boots, a mini, and some stupid sweater, and a leather jacket, trying to look all hot and shit. I should have turned and ran home.

The first half of the night sucked. All the guys were either dancing with someone, or just being wallflowers. My best friend was always approached by men, whenever we went out. So she had a steady stream of guys asking her to dance all night. I was just leaning on the rail looking down into the dance pit, with about 5 Caronas in me by that time. I was bored. And starting to get a bass/beer/smoke headache.

As I was heading to the bathroom, I had to squeeze through this big crowd at the bar. As I was cutting through someone grabbed my arm. I looked up, stunned. There was this stunningly handsome man that was about 6'5". Now I'm a tall woman, so that was the first thing I noticed. He smiled at me and said something along the lines of "where do you think you're going?" Anyway, to make a long story short, we danced all night long, and around closing time I gave my car keys to my best friend and told her to go ahead and take my car home. I wasn't ready to end the night with Mr. Handsome just yet.

Now. I was...22 at the time, not TOTALLY naive but not the wisest. I figured we would go back to his place, have a few drinks, laugh, get to know each other. So, we leave the bar, and catch a taxi back to his apartment. I can only imagine what that cab driver thought of me. Some incredibly stupid drunken blonde whispering to this very experienced man happened to be smirking, now that I remember it! The prick!

We get to his apartment, and I remember thinking "wow, this place is really fucking small." Not that I lived in a mansion, but this joint was like a studio apartment. We step inside, and this is where it all happened.

The door closes behind me, and this guy strips. Naked. Yes. All the way naked. At the door! He says "I hope you don't mind, I like being naked in my house. Feel free to get naked if you want." I just stood there stunned as I watched his naked ass walk away. I remember thinking to myself that this could be a potentially dangerous situation. So I sat on the couch wondering how I could leave.

He walks into his bathroom and, with the door open, urinates, and FARTS loudly. Like three times. I just covered my face and was like "what the FUCK man?" He walks back into the living room and plops down next to me and tries to lift my shirt. I was so freaked out. I politely said 'no, sorry, no sorry' and moved his hands away. So he says "alright, well I'm hungry. Want something to eat?" I politely declined again.

He gets up, and starts making macaroni and fucking cheese! And then he farts AGAIN. I stand up and look at all the photos on his TV and walls...and say to him "Oh, this woman is pretty, is this your sister?" He says "no, it's my wife." Um...yeah. Waiter! Check please.

He finishes making his food and comes and sits next to me, and I don't know about you, but sitting on a stranger's couch with his balls visible and eating like a pig doesn't do it for me. I was so nauseated. I said 'well, I feel kind of sick, and I'd like to lay down, can I please lay on your couch?' I would have called my best friend but this fucker didn't even have a PHONE! He says "let's go to my bedroom." I said "Ok, but I don't feel so well." Which should have translated into "don't touch me, I find you repulsive."

So he takes me into this teeny room and I climb, with all my clothing on, into his bed, and move all the way to the edge with my back to him. He makes a grab for me and says "take your clothes off." I said "no thanks, I don't feel well." He says "Oh come on, come here." I said "no!! I'm going to be sick." Then he SHOVES me away and says "What the fuck did you expect to happen? Do you think you're someone special? This isn't a fucking fairy tale, get the fuck out of my house."

I scramble out of his apartment and walked all the way home. Brina, Britta Ruth, Elaine...that would be from Lake Calhoun all the way to East Bloomington. My purse was in my car that my best friend took, and I didn't have a dime to my name. December. 4:00am. Maybe 5 degrees out.

That fucking SUCKED!

Things I feel thankful for:

1. I woke up breathing ok.

2. Having two super-cool kids that love me unconditionally, and think I'm a barbie doll princess.

3. Having cool music to listen to.

4. My sight.

5. Being strong enough to overcome shit that happens to come into my life every so often.

6. Bacardi Diet Cokes

7. My family. Having four sisters kicks ass.

8. Not looking like Janet Reno or Lynndie England.

9. Having the trust of so many people that they regularly come to me for comfort and advice.

10. Long, long legs.

I figured it'd be a good idea to list this shit today because what started out to be a beautiful morning (being written to by Mikey, Stu, and Simon) ended up crap, due to harassment from an ex-boyfriend's sister. That bitch!

Watched Mikey, Rachel, and Simon, and I must say...

Once again I am blown away. Stuart and Mikey, "White Stripes" knocked my fucking socks off. You guys rule. And Stuart? You've got tons of talent...WOW.

I am looking forward to being able to purchase your CD, Mikey, and I hope you'll come across the Atlantic and see us...I'm sure you'll find the American hospitality quite enjoyable.

Thanks for a great show!

Today is Rachel and Mikey's gig at Bedford Arms. Let's fuck it up, boys, MAKE SOME NOISE!

I would give my left tit to come to the show...but I can't do it right now. I am going to try to make a trip to the UK this spring, and I will see you guys then, hopefully.

Sabrina - the weekend was fantabulous (yes, dahling, I created this word), it had all the makings of why people run to Vegas and get married! Emotional intelligence, emotional intelligence. Thank god for it.

Ugh...

I swear I'm going to turn into a giant fucking granola bar.

All I eat anymore is yogurt, water, granola, and vitamin supplements.

A long stretch from the pizza, Taco Bell, chips, cookies, ice cream girl I used to be.

The cherry on the top is the lack of cigarettes and booze...and I was a pack-and-a-half menthol smoker for 13 years of my life.

It blows an o-ring being healthy and having a strict diet.

Here I am, sophomore year, 92-93 school year. Check out the hair. Holy fuck!