Geez louise, people, I have a dissertation to write research outline start thinking about, though you’d never know it to look at me.

Did some organizing this afternoon–which is not exactly the same as procrastinating–while GB went off to apply for (and get–hooray for GB bringing in some cash!) a non-career-related, service industry summer job. He ran into Blanche on his way back–remember Blanche? GB dated her for a year, up to last Thanksgiving? And then the Wrangler–or the jackal of love, as we might be calling him–hooked up with her? And then about a month ago, the Wrangler broke up with her because he was all newly smitten with Roller Girl? And Roller Girl has been weird and hard to figure out, so the Wrangler and Blanche have been hooking up again recently–and, in fact, hung out several times this week, including last night? Anyway, GB ran into Blanche, and made plans to go bowling with her this evening.

The afternoon was spent running errands, including a long-overdue trip to Target in THE NEW CAR! for cat supplies and other random, boring necessities. GB went off to bowl with Blanche while I napped and fucked around online. He came back from bowling with Blanche, and told me Jason was coming over to watch the game. (I texted Jason: are you bringing [the Squirrel] and tequila? He replied: You call [the Squirrel], I’ll call tequila. Alas, the Squirrel never returned either of our phone calls–not even the one where I left a message suggesting that he come over and get drunk with me while they watched the game. How could you not return that call? The Squirrel works in mysterious ways.)

Fast forward: the game is watched, margaritas are consumed, I chat online with skycat with hilariously entertaining results. The boys get way, way too high. On…tall…furniture. Yep. Jason leaves. The Wrangler calls to bitch about how confused he is about the other women. I can’t really talk to him, because Blanche is still here, so I go in the other room with the phone. GB comes in and stage whispers: Do you mind if she stays? I cover the phone so the Wrangler can’t hear, and say sure, and go back to trying to talk the Wrangler down off the various ledges he seems to love sitting on.

And now I’ve been working on this post for hours, because chatting with crse has been much more entertaining than writing this. So I leave you with the line I just typed, completely sincerely, into Yahoo messenger: “I’m totally going to wake up my husband and his booty call if i keep laughing out loud.”

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