Ghouls and Gherkins

He speculates that I am on the verge of jumping his bones mo-mo style, but I doubt he will be so lucky. What? Have I forsaken my asexuality for companionship? Damn wishful thinking. I still remain a bitter old hag in the form of a 24 year old female. Furthermore, my wisdom dictates that a relationship will complicate my life. This is why I have a cat – just getting a head start on my future which I’m remarkably getting more complacent with. I more or less just want to be hugged. It’s cold in my room.

I am so proud of the way my little protégé of a sister is turning out to be. There will be no mucking around with gay losers in this dojo. She and I have devised a grandiose plan involving Michael and a hot male volunteer. My former melancholy has been eradicated in a frivolous whirl. The carnival has begun and I am stained with utter glee. Let the games begin.

In other news, I didn’t do too well on one of my mid-terms. I’d like to attribute that to the cesspool of laziness that has amassed around me, disabling my will to read. It hasn’t, however, marred my dream of becoming the world’s best pumpkin carver. Booyah!With Halloween around the corner, I've been wrecking my brain trying to come up with an all-amazing costume. I might have found the perfect one for me. Ka-ching, baby! :) Whatever it takes to bring home the bacon.And why is it that gherkin sounds like something you wear? Like a hat or possibly a ridiculous-looking loin cloth (AKA butt flap) rather than something you eat? And why am I even contemplating this fleeting fancy?I am a jar of pickled gherkins. Nice.