shovels and rakes and implements of destruction

Was hanging out with the Muse's little sister the other day...let's call her 'Blonde,' since she is. NEway, was tutoring Blonde in math, and when we were done with that she went on my laptop since she is, I believe, physically addicted to Facebook. And she was showing me different photo galleries of her friends and stuff, and one of the new ones was from a guy she knows. The pics were of him and his, at first I thought, BF, and there was shirtless cuddling and neck-kissing and making out, all from the classic one-handed self-photo angle. Emo-bangs pretty boys macking on each other? Hawt. She was going for the euwww reaction, to which I said, "Homophobia is lame, sweetie," and she was all, "No, that's not why it's gross!" since they are both IN HER CLASS and they are FRATERNAL TWINS. IDK why a teenager would post pictures like that ON FB for people to, like, see? I mean, it was flocked, but still. IDK why, I'm just thankful. RL brother-boyfriends, kinky.

...why do I feel like more of a perv for thinking that than for SLASHING THE JONAS BROTHERS?

If you haven't tried Mystery Google, you're missing out. For the uninitiated; Mystery Google is a version of Google that, when you submit a search, gives you the results of the search submitted by the person before you. A lot of people submit a search such as 'dance like a taco' or 'call NPA-NXX-XXXX and sing us a song.' These same people apparently post their Mystery Google Mission results to MLIA. I think that's kind of awesome, and I'm sad that apparently a couple of people are ruining it for everybody else by using it for prank calls and/or random hookups.

HERE IS MY MYSTERY GOOGLE MISSION STORY:

Tonight on Mystery Google I was given a phone number and told to call and leave a message singing my favorite Britney Spears song. I'm from Canada, and the number was an Alabama area code. I called anyway, and sang 'Womanizer.' International call? 4 cents a minute. Random hysterical entertainment? Priceless.

This is the kind of thing I get up to when I spend time with the Muse and we run out of baby clothes to sort.

...and I think my ears are bleeding.

The morning after partying is very boring if you don't get hangovers. Not that I would prefer the alternative! It's just, everyone else is sleeping, or moaning in pain and having morning-after regrets...and I'm awake and want to, like, do stuff! And the only one who's down with that is the baby.

Which is, obviously, why the Muse got me to spend the night...so she can have her hangover in peace. LOL.

First session with personal trainer. I was shanghaied into this by the Muse. Her arguement was that she's pregnant. Not at all relevant, but that's how she wins all arguements these days. I think she means, I'm pregnant so you have to obey my every whim or I'll have a hormone-fuelled meltdown. And I do, because she will. Also, my inner bargain hunter cannot resist a 1yr membership for 299.50 with monthly personal training sessions and 300 minutes of tanning. My personal trainer, James, is cute but evil. VERY EVOL. I think all personal trainers are a little sadistic anyway, but he takes it to new heights. Apparently Apex machines are for pussies and I can use free weights instead...in a room full of guys with arms the size of tree trunks. That's not intimidating at all. My goal is to go three days a week minimum. We'll see.