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

It's amazing. The masturbating bag boy entry got the biggest response of anything I've ever written on here. It just goes to show you what will get people's attention.

I forgot to add to that story that the most disturbing part of the whole thing, very oddly enough, was that he did not grab his penis when I approached the checkout stand.

Well, I never. And I thought I was a hot ticket. What can you do?

I'm not blonde (any more). That's probably it. When I was blonde (that's my natural color, I did not fall into the "blondes have more fun" crap. Back off) I got way more attention than I do now. It's not that people are mean, it's more like I don't stand out as much, I guess.

You would think dark purple hair would get more attention. You would be wrong.

Actually, I prefer it this way. As I've said before, I'm a generally reserved person (heh heh...until you get to know me, I know, I know Louise) and so fading into the background until I'm ready to spring into action is actually sort of my bag.

Spring!

Sorry. I just had an image of myself springing into action. And it was funny. So leave me alone.

In other news, the past couple of days I've been playing this game on the way to and from work where I look at everyone's license plate to see whose registration is expired. That would be because mine is expired and has been for two months.

You'd be surprised how many people's registrations are expired. It's shocking.

Then again, maybe you wouldn't be surprised. I don't know. I make wild assumptions like that sometimes.

And to add further to the overall genital-related theme I've had here for the last two entries, I have to say as a sidenote to Sabu's entry that there's also a commercial for some sort of feminine product that says, "Is there a better way to enjoy intimate cleansing?" I find it disturbing, Jason thought it was funny. I think it should be taken off the air.

Filth.

(That was a joke. Please, do not send me email bitching at me for making fun of intimate cleansing. Just go do your thing, and I'll do mine. Because you scare me.)

And last, I was thinking of becoming a Mary Kay salesperson (salesperson. How terribly politcally correct of me. I deserve a reward) because I thought it might be funny to write about. But then I realized that it would probably just be a huge disappointment and nothing at all like the secret, terrifying underground movement slathered in rouge that I had envisioned. I wanted to find out that the pink Cadillacs were armored and had tommy guns installed in them, like Joe Bonano's. But no, I think it's not meant to be.

So now I have find another big dream.

G'night,

-Mlle R