I have packed all of my items and live solely out of a knapsack of necessary articles of clothing. What a joke. “clothing” that I can’t leave the house in. I am thisclose to bobby pinning two dishrags together and calling it Saturday Lingerie.

This means I am either wearing running gear or a sheer, multi-colored dress from thailand. I use “dress” loosely. It’s some man made fiber made by the hands of cigarette smoking 4 year olds in Phuket no doubt. If the sun hits this dress just right, I turn into my alter ego “Lt. Slag”. Its kind of like the pen that tilts and shows a woman with a top…without a top. Its not for wearing outdoors. Its mostly for cleaning the kitchen in. Not for walking to get a thing of milk or cereal. Which I do. And the punjabi security guard at the grocers thinks we’re dating now. Ive been sweating like a whore in church lately and that is because Australia is burning up right now and Ive been told “you aint seen nothing yet” and guess what? I don’t want to see nothing yet. Not interested in this heat. Not at all. And violence has gone up in AU. I scurred. F this Summer of Sam Shit. Jean unloaded her bottle of Vodka on me since it was too hot to drink anything else but ice cold booze this afternoon. I refused….to say no. So I curled up, drank that nonsense old timey drink she suggested (blackcurrent cordial, soda water, vodka and ice) and watched THE SEPTEMBER ISSUE which was a bit of a disappointment. 1) it made me feel like a fool in my 4th grader pinafore see-through thailand prostitot dress 2) Anna Wintour could TOTALLY see me eating chocolate scraped from the bottom of a plastic bag I found in my purse. 3) I don’t understand fashion in the least F that noise. I wanna go to BRAZIL. Why? Because Im watching a special on it and pure fatasses get mucho love down there. Thong tha thong thong thong. And not every brazillian chick is perfect. Im looking at tiger claw marks, mashed tater dimples… and they still get love. Ugh. Talk about loving your body and not giving a poop! Good for them. Anyhow, last thing: Im going to start using a southern belle hand fan. No, seriously. So what.