yo slick, blow

My mother was an angel for Halloween. She drove to work in her convertible with the top down so that her wings would fit. Someone, obviously distracted by her angelic beauty, almost plowed into her. When she recounted the details of the near accident, she added matter-of-factly, “Would have been funny to wind up in Hell today dressed like an angel” and then she giggled. My mom totally thinks she is going to Hell when she dies. I’m kind of glad though because at least I know I’ll have someone to pet my hair when I get there. I kid. I don’t believe in Hell. I believe in energy and flowers and pink bunny rabbits and Franzia and odorless, soundless flatulence.

I have this really thick lotion that I obsessively put on throughout the day. I also fondle my face a lot. This morning, I apparently had an entire conversation with my boss’ boss’ boss and looked like I had just finished a bukake show. How embarrassing. I don’t want him thinking that I do bukake shows during the week! How irresponsible would that be?? Not only would it interfere with my work, office germs would stick to my face and I could get sick. I read somewhere that there lives germs from at least 6 different penises on any given office door handle. I don’t want that anywhere near my mucus membranes. Which is why I stopped opening doors with my vagina.