The Jigtastic Journal of J. Na Na

Oh, that stupid, dumb ho!  You know, I am actually kind of fascinated (i.e. envious) of Paris Hilton because she’s got it all.  ‘Cept for a brain.  I hope the jail time forces her into some much needed personal reflection.

If you’ve ever worked in an office of mostly women, you are probably aware that most women have an iron deficiency which causes them to frequently feel cold.  Well, I’ve had enough.  I’m walking through the office when it’s a balmy 82 degrees outside, and every one of my female co-workers has her heater on, causing my eyes to dry up and my throat to constrict.  It’s not healthy, ladies!  Nor all that good for the environment!  Take a pill!

I jacked up my neck yesterday, which was, on record, the Hottest Day Ever in the History of San Francisco.  It sucked to sit in bed, popping Aleve, watching crappy weekend TV, while eating everything in sight.  Not purty, Martha.

So along with getting my first cell phone recently, one of my co-workers is going to sell me his old iMac (keep your groans and protests to yourself) for fifty bucks. Everyone at my company also just got free iPods. Today is clean up day in our office, but I’ve combined cleaning with combing through the iTunes web site, looking for my favorite dance ditties to add on in for a buck a pop.

Who would have ever thought I’d become so technologically hip. Yes, I’m just as shocked as you are.

You know when you see a crack whore on the bus and you just can’t help but stare?  They’re always small, like they stopped growing at age 10, and always dressed in jeans and some garish, bright top, clutching a plastic bag with grape soda in it (why always some nasty, grape or orange soda?), their melted, bulbous features resembling something like an English peasant from the 1600s, with magma blood coloring their face, topped with some bleached, funky coif.  And bright, scary eyes popping out of their face?

Eeew, Mary!

I did my due diligence to the community yesterday by doing a keyword search under "faggot" on YouTube, and reporting everything that contained the word in its heading and/or description.  I logged on today, and saw they were all deleted.  Pleased as punch?  You bet I am.

Between the frighteningly realistic bad dreams (around 6:00 am today, I dreamt a slinky-like demonic weiner dog jumped onto my bed, and started barking in my face, and woke up with a fright), and Sugar whining to be played with around 4:00, I cannot get a good night’s sleep to save my life, and am seriously considering popping a Xanax before hittin’ the hay every night.  I never used to like sleeping before.  Now, I want it more than I could ever imagine.