with extra sqickiness. and links to blogs about the the creepy purity balls in the us. purity? what, is a woman a litre of milk? she can be spoiled and need to be tipped down the sink? yerk.
wish the supposedly new blogger did autolinks in Safari, then I could post more bloggy goodness. but instead, I'll mention that A looked at a photograph of a pudgy, short-haired young person on a magazine cover yesterday and said "what's her name" and I said "it's a he", based on the name Stevie - once I read the article I realised A was right. a victory for the preliterates.
oh, and the marriage is at an alltime low. it seems even when I ask him to do just one small part of a huge project, he still acts like it's an imposition. and he comes in on my projects and sets rules/makes it harder at the last minute. I'm so fucking glad I don't work for him. no wonder his staff are leaving.
would quite cheerfully have an affair at this point (have I mentioned the NO SEX thing, and the lack of effort on his part to reassure me that I'm still sexy, to maybe put a bit of romance into things?) - but who would want to have wild short-term nooky with a one-breasted chick? I did a quick scan of rsvp.com.au, and was saddened by the number of men specifying, you know, tits. usually big, but defintely tits. yesterday I woke up from a deep nap and was hit again by the realisation that my body has been mutilated. nah, it ain't getting easier.
