When cornered, say, by a job interview, I have the ability to bullshit marvellously. I maintain constant eye-contact and talk out of my ass as if my life depended on it.

They told me I was, so far, the most qualified applicant they had. I may be passed up in favor of an intern, however, and that does not sit well with me.

Only slightly over a week to go before I am free of the call center and can begin my aikido adventures. My only worry is the fact that I'm a massively out-of-shape weakling who could be easily killed by a stiff breeze with half a mind.

Woosh. A dry leaf driven deep into my back: DEAD.

Speaking of backs, I've managed to injure mine again, somehow. The excruciating pain is exacerbated by my having to listen to the whiny emo bullshit channel on TV.

Pardon. Alternative. Isn't every kind of music alternative to another? Yeah. I definitely hate this channel and everything it stands for.

Last night, I found my nemesis. Her hair was so bleached, it looked like a wig. She had on so much make-up, it looked like a vinyl mask. B caught me staring at her and narrowing my eyes and nearly choked to death on laughter.

I'm glad he's okay.

Addendum: I just watched the theatrical trailer for the Bratz movie. If they're going to do an onstage suicide-girls-esque dance routine, where are the little electrical tape nipple x's? I query, I pout.