July 09, 2003 - 9:51 p.m.

So there was this creepy looking middle aged man in the laundromat this evening. Before he would fold his laundry on the counter like the rest of the sane world, he whipped a bottle of Fantastik out and scrubbed it clean.

What the hell is wrong with him? Are the counters not good enough for his grubby little clothes? Can someone truly be that anal?

Spent a majority of day dreaming about what I will say to Steven Tyler the next time I see him. Have suspicions that "Give me your love child" would be highly inappropriate remark. Will settle for an autographed breast.

T has invited me to spend the day with him on Sunday. Should be fun. We are going to watch The Usual Suspects and listen to Sevendust. Yeah!

Spoke with Liz regarding my serious problem of "accelerated sex drive" and we agreed it was best that I not have sex on Sunday. Well, I am still trying to convince her that it would be a bad idea. She is all gung-ho for sex.

Should not shave legs or bikini area as to prevent my will power from cracking.

I tend to get annoyed with people after fucking them. Take Ken, for example...

Ken is coming over tomorrow to get his DVD player. Then there will be no more ties.

My Creepy Neighbor has an eviction warning tacked to his door. Isn't that funny?

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