Just act as if we never slept with each other.

This is new and improved. Friction Friction Friction Makes the Babies is back and better than ever. In what ways, you ask? Well, now that my delightful but all too short summer respite has ended, I plan to write more often. I wouldn't wish to render my hands idle lest they become thy servants of Satan. Yes? It feels good to blog like this again, just you and me, my dear reader. Is this not pleasing? Is this not new and improved? Look at how well I write: And somewhere deep in the meadow he paused, as if paralyzed by some incisive intution that somewhere, hidden betwixt the bushes and roiling clouds of fog, there rest a bear, scratching its ballsack against the treebark.

If I hadn't mentioned before, I'm back in school, which I enjoy. My fifth grade teacher used to always say the brain is like a muscle, the more we exercise it, the better it gets. She also smoked alot and had the voice of a hag bag. But there is alot of truth to her statement, if I'm not learning I start to feel stupid and it aggravates me. I mean, how am I supposed to unify the concepts gravity and electromagnetism into one reductive theorem if i'm off getting drunk and shootin jizzbombs into napkins? Something had to change and I'm glad to be back.

Not many cute girls in my classes though. When it comes to figuring a general ratio between, ahem, dateable prospects and discardable ones, school is an depressingly accurate demographic. So much so that I realize, during my people watching rituals, that there are some real ugly, ugly people out there. I mean ugly. Ya know those babies that are so ugly, they're cute? Yeah well these babies were just ugly. Not to sound mean though, we're all ugly in our own separate ways. Just some ways more physical than others.

Mistake me not for being cruel, I for one, need a girl with a good personality. Personality can definately mask certain aesthetic flaws. For instance, make me waffles in the morning, and maybe I'll see past those buck teeth. Make me blueberry waffles, and I might just forgive the enormous bunjie jumping clit. In other words, beauty is both malleable and mutable. Sometimes I'll look at those 14th century paintings with naked chics - their saggy titties and fladooky rolls all hangin around their hips - it never ceases to amaze me how quickly what is considered beautiful can change.

You mean crimped hair back in the 80's got guys sprung? Maybe after a couple lines of coke.

But back to what I was saying, I'm back to routine. Feel free comment on my site as if summer never existed and I never abandoned you guys. We're gonna act normal, like nothing ever happened. K?