Laptops are rather warm,

when perched atop one's lap.
I am slowly remembering all the great things about having a laptop--
my last one was de-keyed by my matched set o'grommets,
and it's been well over a year since I was able to be so portable as I feed my addiction.
Life is good.
Hubby had the NERVE to suggest that I love the lappie more than I love him.
Ha!
he's one to talk!
Mr. Warcraft World junkie.
I can take my blogging to a coffee shop, to school, to bed.
I can blog in the nude, in the black, in the red.
I will blog with my eyes closed
and blog upside down...dammit, I ran out of rhymes.

I will attempt to stop talking about this, but make no promises.
(Lying on one's stomach on one's bed while typing is not as comfortable as one might think.)
Attempt failed.

Ok, anyway.
Last night I met my best friend at the gym and plowed through our legs workout and my entire travelogue--in one breath, i'm pretty sure.
I asked her if she had a headache when I was done spewing my story and she claimed that she didn't.
She did, however, suggest we blow off cardio and go get a glass of wine,
which turned into dinner, because neither of us had eaten.
Now that's what I call a successful night at the gym!
AND she gave me a beautiful, classy little photo album for my trip photos.
She rocks.
We are now firmly committed to taking over Europe together.
Or at least visiting there...

Oh, something I've been meaning to address:
I remember reading somewhere on here, either in my comments or in a guest post,
something about my ice cube vs. nipples trick.
I just wanted to dispell that little myth, not that it matters.
I don't use ice cubes, nor is it ever cold when I take my braless shots.
I simply run a hand over the fabric covered nipples, and voila.
I seriously don't know why I even care.
I have this truly distorted need for accuracy, and sometimes I am compelled to adhere to it.
My apologies.
But, hey--
at least we got to talk about nipples!!
And just because I have slacked on posts this week,
and never intended to keep my "no more braless" promise...

That sweater looks a little pilled.
I guess it's been rubbed too much...

I promise I will write something soon.
And it might even be worth your time!

Knock knock.
who's there?
GO FUCK YOURSELF!