Monday, April 20, 2009

Un-a-mused

Muse has left me in the dust. Would fire the bitch if she actually existed. Perhaps is a man. Would explain the constant disappointment I have of the inadequacy of inspiration. Am considering a call in, due to illness. *Cough* See? Am horribly ill. *Cough, cough* But could get much writing finished.

Other shit: Bored with K/supervisor drama. Am also getting nowhere with D (studly manager). Would say I am losing my touch but I have yet to make real attempt. Still studying my prey. Oddly, my calm demeanor has slipped with this one. Should I be worried?

Other-er shit: R still behind dumpster smoking. In rain. Persistent bugger. Told him smoking is bad for his health. R said "Suck my hairy balls", to which I answered, "When you have some, love." Have no intention of actually doing so, mind you. I hate children.

Am now thinking my retort was not a wise statement as R need only report that I made an offer to a minor. Hopefully he is not clever enough to figure it and I will be wiser.

Note to self: "Mia, mind your tongue. It has caused trouble more than once. Begin re-employment of said appendage toward happier pursuits. Preferably involving chocolate."

5 comments:

Rassles said...

My muse is most definitely a dude. And he looks like 1988 Bruce Willis. Sometimes Nathan Fillion. And sometimes...supersecret sometimes? He looks like Eliot Gould.

Jennifer Madden said...

Ok, just have to let you know I love your blog. Stumbled across it the other day and have to keep returning. Keep up the good work!
Hope your *cough* gets better.

Mia Watts said...

Fully understand Bruce and Nathan. Eliot? Dear heavens of flaming mercy my lips shall never utter thy secret. *shiver*

Jennifer, rather enjoy being someone's guilty pleasure. Visited your blog. Considering your background, perhaps better I keep responses here? ;) Amazing competition pics.

Raw, muscular strength flexing and rocking beneath... wonder how my ex is doing...

Mia Watts said...

Holy shit. Have been infected with emotive icons. Rassels. Your secret for mine.

Bronwyn Green said...

HOLY SHIT - your muse has the Man Cold. Now you're going to have to coddle him if you ever expect him to get off his ass and do anything ever again. I suspect your must caught it from mine...and I apologize profusely. Bastards.