Pluck Pluck Goose June 04, 2003 - 4:00 a.m.

I want hot chocolate.

I want a large overstuffed chair.

I want great lighting.

I want a soft blanket.

I want good snacks.

I want a Romie dog curled up at my feet.

I want a good book.

Mix 'em all up, and that would kick lots of ass.

I am so Night of the Living Bored. I have done nothing of any significance tonight. The only thing I participated in was rewatching The Boondock Saints with Chris. He wanted his friend to see it, as well as watching it again himself. Turns out I did a good thing by demanding he watch it with me. Besides, Willem Dafoe in drag is just damn funny.

Other than that ever so important event, I sat on the counter in front of the bathroom mirror for about ten minutes, playing a stimulating game of Pluck Pluck Goose with my eyebrows. I've never been one to pluck my eyebrows. Although I probably should, as they are fairly bushy and not at all feminine. At the most I pluck away the lone stragglers in the area reserved for unibrow country. That should always remain bare. Even tonight, I didn't do any major makeover. Just evicted those extra vagrants that loiter outside of the brow zone. It's nothing anyone will notice, but it was something that always bothered me. It's like having a really long nose hair that tickles as it sways in the wind. Not that I've ever had that happen.

And suddenly I'm picturing Al Bundy.

That's my cue to leave....

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