26 December 2002 - 2:40 p.m. So, I'm working on getting a cell-phone. What do YOU think? What provider do use? What are the pros and cons? I need advice. Help me. OK, so'it's not that bad. I just know that many of you already have one and would appreciate it if you steer me in the right direction. (0) Comments?

26 December 2002 - 10:59 a.m. And we started trying to come up with new, alternative smurfs: intersexed smurf, body-modification smurf, born-again smurf, GOTH SMURF! And, I knew it was almost time to leave, because when you start to think of things like "amputee smurf," you've run out of conversation. We stood in the entryway of my in-laws house and tried to leave. Melissa has this thing where she can't leave places. She even opened the door a little, so I said, "Either close the door or go outside." She says, "OK, I'm ready." Twenty minutes later she's still saying, "OK, goodbye. Merry Christmas. Good bye. Merry Christmas. OK." And, the inside of her parents' house is as cold as outside and we're all shivering. At this point I have her slung over my back like a rolled up carpet, and she's clinging to the door-jamb with her fingernails like a cat on speed, and shouting, "OK, GOODBYE. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!" I'm pulling her by her feet like a Scotsman in a tug-o-war, and I'm yelling, "who'd a thought a wee lassie could a been sa strrrong?" Finally she loses her grip and we snap back, and sling-shot across the lawn like two monkeys fired out of a cannon. Christmas wrapping and leftovers explode through the air like confetti silhouetted against the rainy night and it all ends up in a debris field twenty feet across on the front yard and the street. As the last few pecan diamonds hit the ground, Melissa dislodges her head from the muddy grass with an audible pop like a wine-cork and says, "OK. Merry Christmas. Goodbye." I gather everything in a big, wet mess and shove it all in the back seat of the car. I go over to Melissa, touch her in the middle of the forehead with my right hand, and say, "SLEEP!" She instantly slumps, and I stick her in the car. Her parents say, "OK. Merry Christmas. Goodbye." I drive away. The rain is freezing on the road and we're spinning around like the teacups ride at a carnival. We're dodging SUVs and minivans, sliding along the road like bloodhounds on linoleum, and I'm having near-death experiences from people I don't even know. It's kind of fun, aside from the nausea and the terror. We make it home with only a slight rounding of the edges of the car. I touch Melissa's forehead and say, "AWAKE!" She wakes up and says,". . . with three poodles and a Coke machine. . ." So we make it inside with all our stuff and collapse on the sofa like thawed chicken-breasts. I turn to her and say, "I'm pooped. I think I'll go to bed." She leans over to me, places her hand on mine, and looks into my eyes. She reaches over, touches my forehead and says, "ORAL SEX!" (0) Comments?

20 December 2002 - 4:13 p.m. (0) Comments?

20 December 2002 - 2:56 p.m. (0) Comments?

20 December 2002 - 12:05 p.m. (0) Comments?