One man, three movies and a dream.
2006-05-07 12:24 a.m.

I took my brother to see One Man Star Wars tonight. I got another deal to buy tickets a day before they were released to the public. We were in section P2. I thought that would be row P, but no, we were in the second row (P stands for the pit). We were up close and personal. So personal that my brother even got actor spit on his face a couple of time. I alas, did not. My hottie cloning attempts continue to go thwarted. I was bummed out that I didn't bring my camera with me as there were Star Wars characters running around the building before the show. Here's a picture I took with my camera phone of a couple of Storm Troopers and an Ewok. If you look closely you'll also see a couple of flegeling Jedi waving around their lightsabers. I got to shake hands with Darth Vader. He's really nice in person. He didn't try to choke me or anything. It was a great show. I led the standing ovation, how could I not? Mr. Ross even came out afterwards and gave a brief inspirational talk, the gist was "If I can get paid wads of cash for acting out my favorite movies you can get paid for following your wacky ass dreams too." Only more eloquent. And he didn't say ass.

4 People have tried to sell me Viagra
Me me me me.
2006-05-05 10:40 p.m.

I've lost 5.5 pounds since my last round of steroids. Now I'm just 5 pounds away from my lowest sickly weight. I can't wait until I can take off my jeans again without unbuttoning them. Plus, I ordered a really cute swimsuit to cavort around the backyard or spa in this summer. It's not overy sexy but it nips in my waist and shows of the dragon tattoo on my back. Purrr-ow.

I'm beginning to wonder if I have Sarcoidosis related gastritis. It would explain all the nausea and lack of appetite I've been dealing with. I thought it was a medication problem but then I realized I've felt this way for a year and a half. Hmm. Uh yeah, duh. Of course, the way to find this out would be to have a camera shoved down my nose into my stomach and snip out a piece of stomach lining for biopsy. That doesn't sound very fun. At all. It's right up there with wrestling with an angry badger and open mouth kissing a member of Creed.

I think I'll ask my rheumatologist what he thinks. I'm slowly beginning to trust him. My pulmonologist is the one who I have a huge crush on I trust the most, unfortunately or more accurately, fortunately, I don't have sarcoidosis in my lungs so he's not super involved in my case anymore. Bummer-ish.

Now about Sarcoidosis: I have for my internet buddies six free stylish Sarcoidosis awareness bracelets. All you got to do is e-mail me your name and address and I'll mail you one free of charge. Send e-mails to kungfukitten AT diaryland DOT com and please put Diaryland somewhere in the subject line so you don't accidentally get spam filter. You'll look super stylish and be supporting your virtual friend, me. He're a picture of what they look like. They say: K.I.S.S. Kick In to Stop Sarcoidosis. Pretty sexy, no? First six requests get them. When there gone, they're gone. Until I make another order, I guess. Also, comments are turned back on to everyone. Although I will curse Rulez666 with full body leprosy if he keeps spamming my archives.

1 People have tried to sell me Viagra
Hate spring.
2006-05-03 6:01 p.m.

It started when I drove past Infinity Tattoo and Piercings. I was suddenly reminded of the boy with the tongue stud. Instinctively my tongue rolled around my mouth remembering what it was like to kiss him. How the tip of my tongue would seek it out. Oh how I wanted to capture it between my teeth, but he was too quick, too limber for me. Then I was reminded of the boy with the ring through his nipple. My stomach contracts and I rub my lips together slowly. "But why only the one?" I whispered to him. "Do you know how much it hurts!" He says laughing and smiles at me, inches from my face. I could have spent the rest of my life with that smile.

I nearly drive into a tree.

Fuck. Hate spring. Hands at 10 and 2. Think about yard work. All that icky grass. Bugs. Weeds. My neighbor with his shirt off. That black tribal tatto that wraps around his muscular right arm...No! Bad, girl! Bad girl! Must go home and self-flagellate. (You can interpret that last sentence anyway you like).

5 People have tried to sell me Viagra
We're Macho! We eat Nachos! Get used to it!
2006-05-01 3:07 p.m.

It's a beautiful spring day. I was on my way to work when suddenly there was a police-cycle waving me off the street. I turned and went towards the waterfront. Again I tried to get to work and a Police Officer in front of a van was blocking my way. Off in the distance there was the sound of drums and incoherent chanting. Above my head, the local news copters were jockeying for position. What the hell was going on? I went around in a cirlce a few times. I simply could not get north of Columbia Blvd. no matter how far east or west I tried to go there was a Police Officer pushing me around in a circle. I called into work and asked if they were being held hostage by a bunch of drum weilding hippies. No, it was some sort of immigration walk out slash parade.

I gave up and parked my car in front of a 15 minute meter. I even put a small tower of coins balanced on the meter just in case some nice person wanted to keep me from getting ticketed. I grabbed by bag, cursed my high heels and started hiking towards my work. I had to run through the center of the protesters parade route. They were all yelling something about benefits, work walk out, macho pride, blah, blah, blah. I've got better things to do than protest. Like get to work. I finally made it there, I think I was only a mile away. I returned some calls, grabbed some more work and went back to my car. No one had fed my meter but they hadn't ticketed me so huzzah for that.

I tried to circle around to get closer to work, to park somewhere! Anywhere! Eventually I just gave up. My road range was out of fucking control. I simply couldn't get to work, the cops kept pushing me in circles. AIGH!! I decided to go to my HMO and pick up some medication. As I was pulling onto the highway on ramp there was a guy with a cardboard sign that said: "Will Take Verbal Abuse $1.00" I rolled down my window. "Get over here!" I yanked out the change holder from the center console of my car and dumped all of the change in his cupped hands. I was about to unload on this moron when he smiled. He was missing a couple of teeth and looked just like Cletus like the slack jawed yokel from The Simpsons. He was so happy to have gotten so much change and was already trying to count it up and not drop a single penny. What kind of person yells at Cletus? A monster - that's who! I pulled away and waved. After my window was rolled up I muttered. "Enjoy your crack, Cletus." But by then I was feeling a lot better.

6 People have tried to sell me Viagra

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