The story so far...
The Paxil Diaries
2007
A Letter from Prison
Mo' Moe, and a nerd license suspension
Harry's Adult Day Care
"Sweet little Anorexia" part 2

No sooner did I get home from work Tuesday night (or was it Wednesday?) and the phone rang. It was Amy, who was getting homesick.

Of course she was broke and so was her BF. They visited for a while, and I got him high for a change. Usually I'm the one that's out.

He went home, and Amy and I drank. Amazingly she didn't have any whiskey, only the remnant of my six pack. I still got to bed late.

I woke up with the cold sweats and a terrible pain in my stomach. I got up, ran to the bathroom, and sat down in the nick of time.

Something I had eaten was apparently eating me back. I couln't blame this one on my reeferigerator, as I've been on a McDiet for a few days, trying to gain some weight.

I woke up when the alarm went off, and kept hitting "snooze" until there was someone at work I could call. And sat back down on the porcelin throne, dripping sweat and shivering.

Street prostitutes reported that about 3 percent of the sex acts they performed were "freebies" given to Chicago police officers to avoid arrest, according to a draft report of the study, which was presented to a packed session last weekend at an annual national economics conference in New Orleans.

According to the paper, full-time prostitutes made on average less than $20,000 a year. If they had a pimp, the women made a little more, even after giving up a 25 percent cut of their earnings. The women reported being beaten about once a month on average.

(Chicago Tribune, bugmenot required)

When I got up, Amy was on the couch cushions on the floor and "Oprah" was sleeping on the couch. I have no idea when she'd showed up.

I went back to bed. When I woke up, they were both gone, but there was extra food in the house, including a freshly baked chicken in the refrigerator.

Amy can cook pretty good. I wonder if Oprah helped? After all, there's no reason a prostitute can't cook as good as a taxi-driving nurse! Of course I went home for lunch today.

Reading the local paper I see that Homer's relatives are making the news again. From the Springfield State Journal-Register's Police Beat:

*Freddie G. Simpson, 53, was arrested early Thursday for allegedly battering a woman at an apartment in the 1600 block of North 11th Street.

Police were sent to the building about 2:50 a.m. after receiving reports of a woman inside one of the apartments yelling for help.

Officers arrived and could hear the woman screaming. She told police Simpson battered her in the bedroom, repeatedly pushed her down on the bed and would not allow her to leave. She suffered scratches on her face and shoulder soreness but refused medical treatment

I made some corn and green beans to go along with the chicken. Amy's still missing, presumed drunk. When I got back to work the phone rang. It was "Bighead", the too-expensive, too-skinny, too-undertalented whore I met the other day. I let it ring.

It rang again, and it was Mo, feeling much better after her bout with bronchitis. We're going to have dinner at Darcy's Pint and I'm going to try and let her get me drunk and take advantage of me.

Will our intrepid geek get his nerd license suspended again? Will he catch whatever dire infectuous disease Mo is sticken with? Will "Bighead" drop her price down to something less exhorbidant? Will Amy show up? Will the cats get huffed? See this nerd's journal Monday or Tuesday!

Next: It ends before it begins

"i want my money back" -Gogo0