On The Guilt of Abstinence

So my week of solitude has come to an end, and what have I got to say? Sweet fuck all. But I'm starting to feel that pressure of obligation, my blog stares at me blankly, and I've still got nothing.
Something to do with a week's worth of silence, I've grown accustomed to it. Not saying I have nothing to say, but do we really need another bout of random song lyrics here? I don't think so.

I did promise C. I'd write a glorious eulogy to her mothers sleepover party, but I need inspiration to do justice to the event. All I can say about it now is:
a) C., your mom is coming to your birthday. Fuck your say in the matter, she's coming out. And you will do her justice. The tequila's a waitin'.
b) I'm counting down the days 'till menopause. If that justifies me acting like those women, I'm all over it.

Well, a weeks worth of nothing leads to a total lack of original thought, but I think I've already mentioned that. Let's just fill in the blanks with one liners, shall we? Here goes:

• I can't save every pigeon. Despite my unrelenting efforts, I lost a pigeon yesterday. I then left the corpse in the biology lab, they don't mind that sort of thing kicking around, do they? Nah.
• No matter what you might have heard, Bill Bryson does not write about fucking. It's a bald faced lie.
• After a week of obsessive yoga, I can now touch my toes. But only when I can catch them. Still, I'm 5'10", they are pretty freakin' far away. Be impressed.
• C.'s mom rocks. But don't drink anything she serves you, you will suffer. And suffer some more. She is a cruel and evil woman, do not trust her.
• If you wear bunny slippers to a pub, it doesn't matter how long you huck them in the back of the closet for, they will still smell like stale beer. But who the fuck is actually gonna wash bunny slippers? Do you know how long those take to dry? Four days. Fuck that.
• Doesn't matter if I'm wearing stale-beer-bunny-slippers or not, I still don't want you sniffing my feet. Just don't.
• Erica is angry. That's just a general statement of fact. Not in relation to anything. Just wanted another link here.
• Like porn? Click here, click here!
• Hah! Suckas! Bet I had you fooled, didn't I? Is there something wrong with me that a) I find Women Against Feminism the funniest thing on the face of the planet and b) that article strikes me as slightly less funny, and a little more disturbing?
• One of my closest friends had a baby a couple of days ago, and I keep forgetting to call her, because I keep forgetting she had a baby. There is a chance I may be the most self-absorbed person ever born. Shoot for the stars, baby.
• Yup. I got nothin'. There was some great reads in the news lately, but I don't remember what they were, and they'd be old hat by now, anyway. Some I'm done.
• Late entry: Apparently God made the world on October 23. I'd link you to the source of this info, but I was overwhelmed by giddy amusment by this little tidbit, and closed the page, never to be found again. Can anyone explain to me why I find this so dang funny?