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Thursday October 18 2001 - 6:20 p.m. My hands smell like honey. That's right. Honey. Also I can't get wet, because I'm made of sugar. And I'll melt. I thought my absence would make your hearts grow fonder. This is obviously not the case, aside from Louise who is my secret love because dammit she cares. I don't understand you people. I threaten. Don't make me threaten. You won't like what I do. As the Hulk so astutely put it, don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry. My interestingness fell out on the floor. And, speaking of masturbation, I went to the grocery store the other day and the dude that was ringing me up and bagging my groceries was weee-eird. I'm not kidding, my chickadees. He was some kind of freaky, I'm telling you. He was ringing my groceries, all normalnormalnormal, and then this girl walked by and he just stopped. Fullllll stop. Hand hanging over the bag, my Skintimate Shave Gel waiting to be stowed away in my plastic bag for carrying ease, and stared at this girl. After a minute he sort of twitched and then went back to bagging. But slooooowly, and he kept turning around to look at her. Okay, that was weird, especially considering there was no ringing-up-grocery-bagging going on for, like, a full minute and a half or so. But I figured, since this chick also worked at the store, that he was looking to see what she was doing. No. A few minutes later two more girls joined the line behind me, and bam! instant hormone-induced labotomy. His hand froze again, and he kept leaning waaaay over to look at them. And then, he grabbed his penis. I saw him, he just grabbed himself, and patted a little, and then went back to bagging. Um, okay, ew. Please, for the love of God, if you want to masturbate, that's your choice, go ahead. And even if you feel the need to masturbate in public, hey, I guess... No, no wait, scratch that thought. Masturbating in public is fully ill. But my real point is, don't be touching your nasty, secret, down-there, tiny little bag boy privates, and then bag my food! Come on now, man! Get a hold of yourself! No, not like that! So after a minute I thought, he must have just been adjusting himself. All would be okay now. It's okay. It's okay. Um. A few seconds later another girl walked by and there it went again. One hand dropping my corn dogs in the bag, the other methodically rubbing between his legs. And yes, a couple more times after that. He just grabbed hold and went to town. Geeeeeeez. [My off-color comments usually reserved for after midnight and before 6 AM removed in the interest of decency.] Masturbating bag boys. What the hell is this country coming to? I'm tired. And I'm cranky. And I don't feel at all attended to. I feel like lashing out. I'm off to lash then,
-Mlle R
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