Make Me Love You:
Public, Part One
Public, Part Two
Private

I believe that there is a big, dairy conspiracy against me.

(And that is a dairy conspiracy, not a diary conspiracy. Although there might be one of those, I'm not sure. But I think I might have to be more important and/or more popular on here to have one of those...I wouldn't be surprised if there were a diary conspiracy against Uncle Bob, for example, although he seems like perfectly lovely person and I really quite enjoy his diary and I wouldn't wish it on him one bit.)

Ahem.

The conspiracy, as I see it, is that all of my dairy products are going bad well before the expiration date. And, as my mother has always delighted, for some reason, in telling me, dairy products are supposed to be good up to seven days after the expiration date.

Well, what the hell.

I just had to pour out a goodly amount of milk. Because it had gone bad. And it wasn't scheduled to. It jumped the gun, babies. It took spoilage matters into its own hands, and didn't even think about my feelings or the feelings of my Malt-o-Meal, that had to go entirely milk-less this morning.

This is not the first time this has happened. No, no, no. It happened last week too.

And don't get me started on the yogurt or the cheese or any of the other bastardly little dairy products that are rising up against me.

Bastards.

Bastards!

I also wanted to tell you that I had this dream last night.

Wait! Wait, no, don't run off. This is interesting.

Well, to me.

No, wait! You might be interested too. Give it a shot.

Anyway, for those of you still here, in this dream I was at a concert and I switched bodies with a friend of mine, a male, who I knew in the dream but have never actually seen in real life. I can't remember the reason he gave me to convince me to switch bodies with him, but I thought of my own later, which was that I was convinced he was using my body to get together with Gary Glitter.

Who?

I know.

So. I had to urinate quite badly in the dream, and I went into the ladies room and then realized I was in a male body and so beat a hasty retreat.

In the men's room, I became disturbed because the urinals, or should I say, urinal, was just one of those long trough thingies instead of separate urinals, and I suddenly realized that I had never urinated standing up before, and I didn't even really know how to use a penis for such purposes, and besides, from what I understand there are all sorts of rules about where you can stand, and what you can look at, and shaking when you're done, and all sorts of crap that we, the female persuasion, don't have to think about, and so what it all came down to was that I didn't know how to pee, dammit.

Crap!

I thought about using a stall, but I didn't know if that was another male-bathroom-using-faux-pas, and besides, I was still paranoid I would use the stupid thing wrong (meaning the penis, not the stall) and whizz down my leg or on my pants or on the floor, so in the end I would probably have to sit down anyway (which, even I know is a fairly serious male-bathroom-using-faux-pas - you can do anything you want in your own home, buddy boy, but you'd best not be caught sitting down in front of the rest of laddies, okay?), so I decided to hold it.

I was pretty pissed at my Gary-Glitter-seducing friend who had just waltzed off with my body and left me with his blasted full bladder. That's like borrowing someone's car and not filling it with gas before you return it.

Well, it's something like that.

And I was relieved to wake up and know that I could just stumble right into my own latrine and use the plumbing (and this time I'm referring to both the toilet and my plumbing, yes) I have become so fully accustomed to.

That was my dream.

Thank you for listening.

And as a final friendly reminder, check your dairy products. That is all.

-Mlle R