Pimples

So I have this nasty butt eruption right under my nose. It is not a true pimple, one that you can pop but one of those vague no point of origin burning types. If I cover it up with make up it looks more obvious. I find myself touching it constantly.....sort of patting it. Then I wringle up my upper lip in an attemp to move the skin around and perhaps dislodge something - what I am not sure. Its making me crankier than normal. I supposed I would rather have an eruption right under my nose than on other spots of my body. Its not particularly worriesome as an eruption in say, my nether regions would be. I am actually feeling a bit better that it is under my nose instead of on my tender bits. Gawd I cannot even imagine the quickness to which I would reach the bottle of antianxiety meds should I have found an eruption in the holy cavern of wonderful feeling! I guess in my kvetching about it, I am now quite proud of it. Whew!

Prince Albert - not in the can

So, here is my kvetch today. Why can't I have huge crushes on people who others can understand why? I have an ENORMOUS crush, always have, on Prince Albert of Monaco. Prince Albert young, Prince Albert older, probabably even Prince Albert ancient will still trip my trigger. Just watched him on a tv show and was drooooooling. Would pass up brad pitt, george clooney, daniel craig....unless they could introduce me to Prince Albert!!! Ugh!!!!!! I am this close to putting his picture up in my bedroom poster sized. Writing his name on my hand, writing over and over and over "mrs. prince albert of monaco". "Dimples of Monaco". Your royal dimples, beloved of Prince Albert of Monaco. He looks like one of the bankers that I take the train with into the city....and man, yes, I do have lacivious thoughts about everyone of them. So clean, so tidy, so brooked brothered......ah..................arrgghh!!!

Kvetching and mustard

So basically today I'm going to kvetch about myself. I created this tough as nails, uber giving persona about 30 years ago. Thought it was a cool personality. You know, can handle anything, very strong, doesn't need nuthin or noone. Romance?? Pishaw! Tenderness?? Double Pishaw!! Well, it occurs to me the reason I did it was to get people to like me and to stay with me. Sort of I'll give you no reasons to ever get rid of me. Now I'm tired of it. I'm tired of my willingness to always say "no, thats great!" or to come up with a reason why that idea is PERFECT for me. Its really hard for me to appear weak (I am conan) so I go out of my way to not only show how tough I am but to also make sure that if anyone sacrifices it is me. Well its pissing me off. Truly truly pissing me off right now. I want romance, I want to be put first, I want....I want...I want to be a bit girly. Crap. Crap. Double triple quadriple crap.

So I'm pissed off at myself. I'm going around the day just kvetching my butt off that people ignore my needs, wants and secret desires.....even tho they all truly have been secret.
ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Well its been awhile

And my kvetch is at myself. I've gotten so caught up in kvetching about the world and those in it that I've not had time to blog my kvetch. Bad on me. There is certainly plenty to kvetch about. I guess instead of spewing the negative energy out of my system, I've kept it in to become an internal combustion engine fueling my anger, hostility and displeasure. What a wonderful thing, eh? Well that is going to stop as I need to spew forth and make the rest of you as miserable as me! My kvetch today is an entirely personal one and it is the guy with the umbrella getting off the train. He must have sensed I was horny cause as he disembarked from the train he took his umbrella (which did not need to be in full upright umbrella position as it was not raining) and without thinking that it was a large golf umbrella and that there were people behind him (I mean he was in a crowd, this would be called paying attention) he stabbed it right behind him and into my hooohaw several times. You would think the first time he would notice that he made contact and looked behind him to apologize, however the 2nd and 3rd time (as I yelped and tried to manuever myself out of the way of the offending appendage) I can only guess that this was his equivalent of foreplay. Well my dear sir, next time a glass of wine, some cheese and then we can talk.