Stir Crazy

I've been alone in my apartment all day. It's been self-imposed; I'm trying to finish writing this script I've been busy with, and I have a ton of paying work I need to catch up on.

I tells ya, there's certainly nothing like being alone in a somewhat dark, relatively tiny apartment; listening to local Sports Radio and caressing your hips while wishing you were a woman.

Earlier today, I was visited by my super. He walked in, slapped me in the face with a halibut and began to do the mashed potato dance. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me that "I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does". He then took off a face-shaped mask and revealed himself as Morrissey, lead singer of The Smiths. I found this odd, because I'm pretty sure my super is a Cure fan.

Later on, Jesus stopped by and we had some drinks. After about half a bottle of wine, he said "you're drinking my blood!". I was mildly upset, but not as upset as I was 10 seconds later when I thought about the heaping glass of whole milk he brought me.

He called it Jesus Juice. Actually he called it "Jesus Jews", but I didn't catch the pun until after he laughed at it for a few seconds. Forced to pretend I got it immediately, but just wasn't polite enough to laugh, I said "puns! I love puns! They never make me laugh out loud, but you gotta love puns!" Dodged that bullet.

Then I had some Elks over and they brought Elkahol. We got massively drunk and spoke ill of moose and their faggy antlers. I said mooses, but they quickly corrected my grammar...the Elks never looked at me with the same respect again.

After 6 hours of solitaire scrabulous, I got into bed and played another 6 hours of solitaire scrabulous. Then I shaved racing stripes into my cheek hair.

I live a highly fulfilling life.