2004-12-20 - 10:45 p.m.
--Who was the girl, Steve?
--Who was what girl?
--The one who left you with such a high opinion of women.
--Joelle and Jorge sit in a booth at Random Mexican Restaurant. Joelle realizes, with alarming clarity, right as Jorge sips from his ethnically appropriate mango margarita, that he is the terribly jealous element of their relationship. The problem, however, is that he isn't jealous of other men for staring at her breasts when they speak to her. Or for brushing her rear end as she walks by them on the way to the bathroom. He's jealous of her. He's jealous of her because she's so delightfully popular. He's jealous of her because she's a bubbling mass of charisma. He's jealous of her because she pops her gum and glosses her lips and people think that it's endearing. He's jealous of her. Because he's a bbbiiiiiiiggggg pussy.
I got an enormous stuffed bear as a Holiday gift from a dancer today. The bear has a big green and gold bow around its neck and came paired with an Arizona energy tea. "For when Kate's mean to you," she said. I busted the face on my phone again today. I haven't done that since John tried to rationalize assy thing #465.
