March 8th, 2007

(no subject)

I got my computer back from the shop today. Their latest theory is that a virus was disrupting my fan, hence causing the damage the other night.

They managed to save about 70 percent of my files, but could not get Microsoft Word to install. They admit this may be because their copy of word is like a 10th generation bootleg and may not be supported by the brand new Microsoft Office bootleg they installed.

So, they installed Open Office and spent a while showing me how to use it.

They only charged me 50 euro and I now no longer have to kick Rome Girl off her computer when I need to check emails, so it' worth it.

We'll see if it crashes again soon.

Money Gets Made Baby Money Gets Spent

I really don't understand why in the freelance world you either have more jobs than you can handle or no jobs at all. Also, why can't I relax when I have no work and just chill?

It's been five days since I had a job and I'm going stir crazy as shit.

I guess it's good timing since my computer is in the shop and I would hate to kick Rome Girl off the machine all day, but still.

I want to feel wanted!

Fru Fru

During my afternoon sits in the Place de la Comedie during this weird period of unemployment, I've noticed a new fashion trend.

Girls are wearing simple t-shirts or sweaters with poofy very short skirts that look like they could be attached to prom dresses.

It's cool in that the skirts poof out enough to give the illusion that French girls have asses and are short enough to show off a lot of leg.

But... I don't quite get the mix of super casual above the waist and super formal below the waist.

This question is meaningless in France where the vast majority of these girls don't work, but if this trend happened in America, where would girls wear this outfit? To work? To drinks? To their little brothers punk prom?

The mind boggles.


Rome Girl has a strange talent.

Every so often she says she's going to "organize" something. Several minutes later there will be shit all of the apartment. Piles of paper, stacks of CDs, mountains of beauty products.

This last happened a few days ago. I fled the house because I was terrified that the piles of stuff were going to come to life and eat me. In one sinister stack the only recognizably human artifact was a black tube that was labeled "bad girl lashes."

But, every time I leave and come back a few hours later, all the piles are gone and the apartment looks strangely nicer in ways that I can't quite put my finger on.

I don't know how she does it. I'm sure there is some pagan vaginacentric voodoo involved.

Spank My Ass And Call Me Wanda!

I signed a freelance gig for next week. It's awesome too!

A 50 page ebook on fetishes modern couples can enjoy together.

If I can't write that nobody can.

Part of the gig is research, so I'll throw it out there:

What fetishes do you guys think are paricularly couple friendly?