One hundred and two: Woohoo!

I somehow managed to miss the anniversary of my hundredth post!  So, I officially deem this the celebration of my hundred and second post! Whoopee! Ta-da! Titithooha! Kapow!

It is actually probably like my hundred and fiftieth post if you consider how many posts I have written and deleted, or written, put up, and then made private due to my extreme sense of paranoia and desire not to completely offend my precious few readers.  Yes, I do censor myself as hard as it might be to believe sometimes.  You have NO IDEA just how dirty and crude my mind truly is, although after Brother J’s masterbexting guest post I hope you’ve realized that I only have genetics to blame for this filthy curse, and sibling rivalry.

Sometimes the thoughts that run through my mind on an average day make me truly grateful that we haven’t been invaded by aliens yet who have the ability to read minds.  Although there are still moments when I’m sharing an elevator with someone and become convinced that they can, in fact, read my mind and now they know that I’d prefer them naked stuck between a piece of whole-wheat toast with their feet slathered in apple butter (don’t ask), and then I have to start humming a song in order for them not to be able to read my thoughts anymore and I end up humming that song by Afroman “Because I Got High (becaaaw!!!) because it’s the only song I can think of in emergency situations, and the jig of my normalcy is officially up.  I’m no longer an innocuous cute girl stuck in the elevator with a stranger.   Instead, I’m a gigantic ball of nerves trying to control the hundreds of horrible images flashing through my head (melting faces, gigantic penis where their tongue should be, them dressed in a tutu except they’ve morphed into an Eskimo in a tutu asking me how Piblotko originated, etc.) of whoever is stuck in the elevator with me, and OH GOD if it lasts one second longer I will contemplate pressing the emergency button, stripping all of my clothes off and getting into the fetal position while I take deep breaths and ask for forgiveness.

I should really just start taking the stairs.

See what happens when I don’t censor myself?  I hope you decide to come back and read my 103 post.  I’ll try to stick to food from now on, with only the occasional weird life tangent.  I promise.

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