I can't swim. And I can't whistle.

Sorry kids that I haven't been around to update. I've got like 2.625 jobs. However, I did manage to see the Burlesque show, Siv and I got nominated to be panty plucking Stagehand and Stagehand Lackey. Wee.

My big two-five is coming up and as I press on into my quarter century, I realize that like fine wine (or stinky cheese), I get better with age.

* Hint Hint *

xo me

p.s. Man I miss this girl

RIP Six Feet Under. *sniff* After the finale I realized my mortality and that I'm not invincible, which left me considerably upset and reflective.

...

On an unrelated note, I drank an obscene amount of wine this weekend. Along with lots of italian food. I think my blood has turned into marinara.

xoxo me

Killcast and I had a reunion of sorts a few days ago... which resulted in delayed flights, long drives, book buying, movie watching and more movie watching, green tea frappuccinos, singing along to the ManManMan song from Orgazmo, late nights with lots of nerdy conversation ranging from our superhero/supervillian underwear and how much we love to poop... and realizing it takes the same amount of concentration to suck a dick as it does to eat a double stuffed burrito with 2 hands.

I wish there was a Philadelphia version of him and we could be best friends... because he's exactly like me, and we all know that I love me.

xoxo me