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Guys That Suck [On the Air] [27 Sep 2009|02:35pm]
A week ago, you know where I was? Surrounded by candlelight in my yellow-tiled bathroom, taking a bubble bath with my longtime boyfriend, Smith. He came home from work late because he had to have drinks with his boss until 10:30 at Sazerac - he's in marketing for the Seattle SuperSonics. He would have gotten paid more to take this job at Progress Software Corporation in Chicago, but he took the job here because he likes being able to say he works for the NBA.

Anyway, in the bathtub a week ago, we were eating two-day-old take out from our favorite restaurant here -- China Gate -- straight out of those white, cardboard origami boxes. A week ago, I was sexy, you know? I was doing sexy things, I was eating my sesame chicken ... sexily. He wa feeding me forkfuls of his Shrimp Egg Foo Young -- Christ, I sound like a heifer in this scenario. I don't eat a lot, I just take small bites, okay?

So we were feeding each other and making out, and it was lovely -- well ... okay, so remember those candles I mentioned earlier? We were doing a little of those things couples do while one little bastard candle was burning a hole straight through the shower curtain. I knew something smelled funny, I you know, just thought it was candle wax!

Don't fret -- we did notice. "Shit," Smith hissed. I dove off his lap and frantically collected candles, and he scrambled after me. Our bath-water looked like a vat of worms and animal testicles and throw up, and who knows what else, like on Fear Factor. It was raining Chinese. Smith grabbed at the shower curtain and a half a second later, the precarious, metal shower curtain rod clocked him in the head, and took down the lineup of candles with it. "FUCK! You sonuvabitch," he said. To the shower curtain or to the shower curtain rod, but not to me.

I dropped the armful of candles I gathered. "It's okay! I got it, I got it!" I said, and slippery and naked, with string beans in my hair, and rice caked to my skin, and soy sauce splashed all over, everywhere. And like a golden retriever or really any dog that retrieves, I raced after the other candles which hit the floor and rolled like bowling pins.

And I rushed after them so fast, I forgot the shower curtain had fallen, clipped it with the front of my ankle, and it jerked back like some Road Runner and Wiley Coyote cartoon and baseball bat-whacked him in the face.

"Ow, FUCK!" Smith roared. I looked over my shoulder and dropped another armful of candles into the sink. He was clasping his nose like Jan Brady. And maybe there was a little blood that I could see, just above his top lip. And by maybe I mean definitely. There was.

"Sorry baby! I'm sorry!" I promised, wincing like it had happened to me. And then I laughed like it didn't happen to me, and ruined everything. It's probably insensitive, but I couldn't help it! You'd laugh too, if you were me.

But I did get him a wet washcloth with warm water, I cleaned him up, I drained the bathtub. I'm the one who cleaned the gunk out of the bottom of it, I threw out the shower curtain, I got on my tiptoes to shove-and-lock the shower rod back into place. I'm the one that got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the floor, I'm the one who got the cold shower because he used all the hot water and didn't complain about it while he went and laid down in the bedroom with an ice pack, like I told him to. I'm also the one who gave The Apology Blowjob.

Yep, that's right! I gave him The Apology Blowjob, and it wasn't even the candle I put on the ledge, it was his. He put it there, not me. He wasn't completely selfish, I mean, he was willing. I told him not to worry about me -- it was 12:15, and he has to be up by 5:45 because he likes to go to the gym in the morning, so I told him just to rest.

But he did send me flowers at work. I was in the break room telling Jack (that's my boss) what songs to make the music director put on the playlist during my hour. That's not something Radio DJs typically do -- we're just supposed to fill the FM Soundwaves with our Personalities -- but I'm not a typical Radio DJ. Well, that and I really wanted to hear Goldspot -- I love their song Friday, I like it played on Fridays, it SHOULD be played on Fridays, it makes Friday a GREAT Friday. Anyway, I was in the break room, and I saw the delivery boy pass through the one-way mirror with three huge bouquets of red roses, and they were for me. One card said (in computer print out) "Dallas, I'm sorry," one said "Dallas, I love you," and the last one said "Dallas, I owe you 1 2. What do you think, 3rd time's a charm?? >Þ XOXO."

A week ago, I was completely in love. And not the kind where you're calling him every five minutes, and e-mailing him back in between phone calls, and text-messaging him when you're not at the computer, or wearing sexy lingerie and crotchless underwear every night. Not that kind of love, it wasn't kiddie pool love, folks. But it wasn't real either.

He cheated on me. I saw the video. You know my boyfriend, 'Paris Hilton'? Yeah. I got the denial, I got the excuses, I got the lash-out, I got my lamp broken, and then I got the confession. If I ever stop being a Radio Personality, I'll look into law enforcement.

But ... I left him. That was last week. You know what I was doing ten minutes ago? Throwing darts at this dartboard my friend Brett made me -- she hosts the show at 9 tonight -- and looking up vaginoplasty, which I am seriously considering. For those of you who don't know, it's otherwise known as "Rejuvination of the Vagina," a genital surgery that's really becoming increasingly popular. It tightens the vaginal muscles.

So Smith, if you're listening -- and maybe he's listening, you guys. Have you ever seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? It's this movie with Kate Winslet and Jim Carey. They were in love, they have a messy breakup, and Jim Carey goes to this doctor that has the capabilities to erase Kate Winslet from his memory, from his mind entirely. The surgery's kind of like that, but for vaginas.

Kiss my ass, you fucking pig. Oh, and that whore if you're listening -- the one I saw on the video, not the other ones -- Get your hair did. And when I say that, I mean your roots and a Brazilian wax, because you have one hairy ass. And now, for the news...
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Biography [04 Aug 2008|02:02pm]
detailed background )

[06 May 2007|11:35pm]
Hello strangers/listeners/viewers.

In my grand tradition of linking the pants off you -- because my links are always damn sexy, that's why, I give you these. I hope you had a pleasant weekend, and didn't get too drunk, or too laid. What the hell am I talking about?? On with the show!

This just might be the most racist book ever.

And here's one for the ladies. I bet you met someone just like this at the bar this weekend. Fellas, please don't let this be you. Actually, LET this be you and come talk to me. I'm the only woman left on this earth who hasn't met someone like this, but I'd like to.

One more: BADA BING. This man, I'd marry.
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THE QUESTIONAIRE [05 May 2007|12:17am]
1. Which outcome would you prefer the most?
a) World peace
b) Personal contentment with your life
c) A million dollars, tax free, for yourself only
d) An all-expenses paid vacation to the place of your choice for a month, no job-endangerment

If one person can't attain personal contentment, how are three million people going to do it? I say start small, get big!

2. If you found someone's wallet on the ground and it had $400 in it, would you:
a) Keep the money, drop the wallet back on the ground
b) Keep the entire wallet
c) Take the wallet to the nearest place you found it at and entrust whomever works there with the responsibility of keeping everything intact
d) Take the wallet to the cops
e) Mail the wallet to the person if there is an identification card with an address on it without the money
f) Burn the wallet in the nearest trashcan so your prints aren't salvageable after removing the money

Depends where I found it. If I found it say, in a grocery store parking lot, I'd take it into the grocery store to the customer service desk, and give it to them because it's likely that the person who lost it at the grocery store will phone the grocery store looking for it. If I found it at a less ... reasonable place, I'd open the wallet, find the ID, and haul out the phonebook. If they were unlisted, then I'd take the wallet to the cops. Self-sufficience, responsibility, and morality is key. For me. And I'm moving onto the next question before I lure myself into a political tirade after the in leui of the debates last night. Why? Because all they talked about was abortion and stem cell research and the obligatory "oh yeah, and we'll cut taxes, too, sure"?! Something fishy is seriously going on there. Let's not talk about anything constructive, let's not talk about anything that would help the US population -- no, let's bicker over issues that are going to effect a select number of the population. You know, and why don't we just abolish women's rights entirely. Women don't need the right to their own bodies; only men get that. Next they'll be taking away sufferage, knocking us up, and locking us up in kitchens barefoot and pregnant. I also just have to say that if abortion is illegal and women lose their rights, it will be a big blow -- even to women who thought they were pro-life. And for all you pro-life people out there that thing the what, 8 or 16 fetal cells scientists want to take for stem cell research is murder? Here's a nice little allegory for you: An in vitro clinic catches fire. There's a toddler stuck in the fire. Do you save the toddler, or grab 10, 000 fertilized cells before the place crashes and burns? You'd save the 10, 000 ferlized, in vitro cell-babies, right? Yeah, I'm sure.

Whew. Okay, off to a great start. Now I'll never get picked by this girl on the internet to go out with this guy on the internet. You know, because I don't meet guys in my day to day life. Actually, I really don't except for Jack. He's got a receding hairline and his sperm's so old they probably travel through the fillopian tubes with wheelchairs and walkers. No, that's not true. I mean, they're pretty old, don't get me wrong, but I'm sure they're brilliant little ... gametes. Hi. Where am I? Can someone dig me out of this hole? Okay, thanks. :D

3. Which of these would you say is your highest priority:
a) Career
b) Wealth
c) Family
d) Friends
e) Myspace (don't check this one if you're just trying to be funny, it's a serious option)
f) Personal health

That doesn't mean I'm looking for a man to saddle down with children. I know what sperm banks are, I know how women use them, I've seen The L Word and If These Walls Could Talk 1 or 2 -- whichever one Ellen and Sharon Stone are in playing a happy lesbian couple trying desperately to have a baby after the gay man they asked to be a personal doner refused. But I think some sense of stability is important. I guess that's not cool or fun but really, how much fun is going to the same bar every night and bringing the same kind of men and/or women home? And conversely, how much fun is staying home every night binging on Ben and Jerry's because you're alone and miserable? Personally, I prefer Chinese takeout and spending the day naked in bed with someone you know and that knows your body like a one night stand could never. Isn't that what's fun about sex? I always thought so. It's not novice sex, and they're not novice orgasms. You know, also -- I don't think there's anything more fun about sex than laughing during it. No, really. I'll never get an on line boyfriend with this kind of talk I guess. Maybe I'm an oddball, I don't know! What do you think, Taylor? Lay some wisdom on me.

4. If Evan mentioned he had a myspace and gave it to you, which would you be most-likely to do:
a) Friend him, send him messages once in a while, check his bulletins, maybe comment
b) Friend him, send constant messages, ask for picture comments, check his top 8, comment a few times a day
c) Friend him, wait for him to send you messages, post vague comments, hope he likes your pictures
d) You've already friended him and are waiting for him to accept, seen all of his pictures, have written out comments you've wanted to post

... Whatever happened to good old-fashioned coffee? Now you need a MySpace? I'm twenty-six. I guess MySpace is too cool for me. That, and nothing tops good, old-fashioned polaroids. And everybody who takes pictures and posts them on the Internet -- 99% of them use that same pose. The coy, over-the-shoulder, shoulder-hitch-up so it looks bonier, Marilyn lip-pout kiss me, heavy-lidded, bedroom eyes thing. Except a lot of the time, people just end up looking like they have a lazy eye. It's the Paris Hilton pose of the Internet. Guys, guys actually change it up a little, don't they? It's either the bicep curl or the constipation face. See, in polaroids, people look normal.

5. How about religion? Which fits you best:
a) I'm deeply religious and expect whomever I am dating to be at the same level.
b) I practice my religion but I don't preach, to each their own.
c) I can't WAIT to tell you about my church!!
d) I'm not really religious or anything, more like agnostic.
e) I'm an atheist.
f) I haven't figured that out yet.
g) I dabble.

America's a melting pot. The water's fine, theoretically speaking. Jump. No, not off the cliff! Into the water.

6. Which of these best describes you:
a) I have never and will never smoke.
b) I will always be anti-smoking.

c) I smoke. So what?
d) I'm an ex-smoker.
e) I'M TRYING TO QUIT, GOD, LEAVE ME ALONE.
f) I don't smoke, never wanted to, don't mind it though.
g) I'm allergic.

Don't get in my car smelling like an ashtray, don't choke me on the smell of Camels or even more pathetic, the feeble scent of Febreeze that barely covers the smell of your cigarettes. That just makes you look like you're embarressed of yourself, and you're aware of how gross and unclean you smell, and you're worse because you know all that, and you do NOTHING about it. And then you probably play the addiction card like it's out of your hands and you're nothing but a victim. But you have the power to change -- I digress. I don't approve, but I don't have the right to tell you what to do, so do what you want. Just not around me, and not in the vicinity of others who aren't cool with the idea of getting lung cancer and dying a miserable death because you were selfish or worse, careless about your fellow man, and had to light up after a meal.

7. Which of the following do you associate with most:
a) I drink occasionally, when I'm feeling extra down or extra up.
b) I drink socially.
c) I never drink, never will.
d) Where'd I put my beer?
e) Beer's for pussies, where's my crack pipe?

Now, THIS kind of smoke, on the other hand ... I'm kidding, I'm KIDDING. Keep me on RECORD for that. I drink when I'm feeling extra up, extra down, extra stressed out, extra fine, extra happy, extra carefree. That doesn't mean I drink all the time and I'm an alcoholic. It means on weekends, I have drinks with friends. Nobody has to carry me out, and nobody has to help me because I'm throwing up in the bathroom. Well, not usually. Everybody's had that one night unless they're the rare breed of people that don't drink at all and haven't ever. But alcohol's the most abused drug out of all of them, cigarettes included. Food for thought.

8. When you and your boyfriend/date/fuck-buddy are picking out a movie, you:
a) Pick one you both wanna see.
b) Pick the one you've wanted to see forever, and if he doesn't go for it, kinda throw a fit.
c) Pick the one he wants to see, you'd rather he be happy.

d) Pick the chick flick 'cause he's required to see them with you, since it's a "date movie."
e) Avoid the crying ones so you won't be seen with running mascara.
f) Don't go to the movies.

Sometimes I wanna see a movie, sometimes he wants to see a movie. Sometimes we both want to see the same movie. Sometimes I want to pick a movie he'll hate but has to sit through anyway because he's in the doghouse, and knows he deserves to be miserable. But typically, it doesn't matter who's watching what. I'm watching because I wanna be with him, and he's watching because he wants to be with me. It's about us, not the box. Okay, that's romanticized and probably not at all true, but I'd really like it to be? Can I get a point for that?

9. Everyone has their vices. What's yours?
a) Chocolate.
b) Sex.

c) Evan.
d) Myspace/greatestjournal/livejournal/melo/any other blog place
e) Reality TV. (This shouldn't count! I need this for work!)
f) Marijuana.
g) Celebrity gossip. (I need this for work!)
h) Attention. (I need this to do my job. Well, I need this to keep my job, so I like it!)
i) Giving head.

10. When was the last time you read a book?
a) I'm in the middle of one I just barely put down. I've got 12 on a waiting list at the library.
b) I think about a month ago, another one I randomly put down and never picked back up.
c) Not since high school/college, unless you're talking about a magazine or tabloid.
d) Why read when there's movies and television and the internet?
e) I don't read 'cause I have too many text books I'm already reading.

... I'm uncool. I don't go out that often. But it's not about lack of wanting to anymore! It's more that I went through a rough breakup (he was cheating), had a nervous breakdown on the radio, got suspended from my job for a month, and holed up in my room without showering for a week and gained 10 pounds from it all, in that order. I guess they got tired of waiting and moved on with their lives. I wonder what gave them the idea I wasn't any fun! Seriously though, I was with Smith for seven years. A month of visceral mourning for seven years? If you don't have that kind of reaction, you probably didn't love him, or you're too proud or pissed off to admit it. I mean, a month like me isn't exactly normal, I admit, but I think it's still in the vicinity of human.

True or False section:

You have a job.
True

You have a mode of transportation.
True

You wouldn't mind moving, and possibly taking time to tour the country.
True

You have a real problem with guys that are seemingly interested in you, flirting with other women.
True -- Wait. I mean, it's kind of a chronic problem if my ex did it for two years. I'd rather someone, you know, respected me a little bit. But if I read this question the other way I mean, you know, but he always DID flirt, and I didn't mind. I mean, I wasn't worried. If you have a problem with it, it's because you're worried, and maybe you should be worried.

You have a real problem with said guy talking about your sex life publicly.
False -- I'll talk about it. I'm a DJ, that's the nature of the beast. He can talk about it. I mean, there are lines but for the most part, maybe something he talks about would help someone else out with a problem they have. And that gives my life and our lives more meaning. It means we're doing something valuable, even if it's a fight, even if it's petty ... it does something to make the world better, if it helps someone out. Also, I get listeners. I like listeners. I like my job.

You have personally talked about your own sex life publicly (on greatestjournal that people can see, etc.).
True -- Greatest Journal? I have a radio show! Now granted, when I let loose with intimate, INTIMATE details of my sex life -- I mean, you might have heard about it. I told everyone who listens in the morning about my ex-boyfriend Smith, about the bathtub incident, about the Apology Blowjob ... If you don't want the world knowing you're a douchebag, don't be a douchebag. It's that simple.

You wouldn't mind being a trophy wife, as long as your husband doesn't sleep around.
True -- I don't know what that means. Does that mean I make a pretty accessory on his arm? Who wouldn't like that? I don't wanna feel that's the definition of who I am or it's the definition of our relationship, but I like feeling beautiful and being on someone's arm. I know how to be polite, I come from a good family ...

Taylor's pretty much the coolest chick ever.
I don't know, I don't know you. I don't think you listen to my show, so I don't knoooooooooooow. You are pretty, though. You're the only person I've seen with eyes as blue as mine. I'm The Coolest Chic Ever, you can be Cool Junior. With life experience, you too might one day celebrity deathmatch me for my title.

I've wanted to date Evan for a long time, just to see what it's like.
Umm. Just to see what it's like! I guess?

I've wanted to date Evan for a long time, 'cause I've heard he's amazing in the sack.
Who's Evan? Does he really get around?

I've wanted to date Evan for a little while, 'cause he asked me out and I said yes.
OH! The guy who left the comment on my JOURNAL. He seems personable, I like outgoing people. Does he have a nice Christmas Tree?

I've wanted to date Evan for a long time, and I'm going to be the one girl that he sticks with.
... Does he usually go for boys?

I have Evan's name written on my panties, just in case he sees them.
False ... So far. But hypothetically -- if I did write his name on my panties, if I lost them, could he be trusted to return them? Can I see his answer to the wallet question?

My hair color is my natural hair color.
True -- Ocassionally, highlights. That's about as crazy as I get.

I have never lied about my weight or age.
False -- Who hasn't? I don't do it for evil, but I don't wanna be labelled the biggest porker in the wedding party! Bridesmaid dresses run small. Sometimes it's a little snug, and when it's a little snug, the salesperson acts like you're the most disgusting slab of fatty meat she's ever seen. I mean, knowing you're being judged feels kind of awkward.

I can't leave the house without at least putting on makeup and doing my hair.
False -- I don't make a habit of leaving the house like a slob, but I have gotten out of the car to use the bathroom at a gas station while I don't know, on a ROADtrip with no makeup on. I've gone to the grocery store in my pajamas before. I know I was just talking about the weight issue, but I have more of a weight issue than I have of a look issue (look as in facial features, etc). If you don't like it, don't look is my motto. I'm okay with the way I look, but I'm a woman! A real woman, I have to watch my weight, I worry about it. I'm not the only celebrity that does ;)

I can't leave the house without at least showering and brushing my teeth.
True -- for the most part. Hair that's a little greasy from a day of not showering? I can deal with. Bad breath is definitely where I draw the line.
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Your Friendly Neighborhood Funny HaHa [03 May 2007|02:09pm]
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Hey Portland, Here I Come [06 Apr 2007|03:58pm]
Someone gave Mom this book, and she didn't want it -- Oscar and Lucinda by Peter Carey. "This sweeping, irrepressibly inventive novel, is a romance, but a romance of the sort that could only take place in nineteenth-century Australia. For only on that sprawling continent--a haven for misfits of both the animal and human kingdoms--could a nervous Anglican minister who gambles on the instructions of the Divine become allied with a teenaged heiress who buys a glassworks to help liberate her sex. And only the prodigious imagination of Peter Carey could implicate Oscar and Lucinda in a narrative of love and commerce, religion and colonialism, that culminates in a half-mad expedition to transport a glass church across the Outback," says Random House.

The book talks about glass a lot -- how glass is a liar because it's a liquid pretending to be a solid, and if you look at panes of glass that have been standing upright for al ong time, they're thicker on the bottom, and thinner at the top.

And there's this one part, it's fascinating -- it's about how if you drop molted glass into ice water, it forms this thing called a Prince Rupert's Drop, which is a piece of glass that's shaped like a teardrop, with a long tail. And it's indestructible; you can't smash it. But if you snap off the tail, it explodes. And it explodes into harmless pieces, like sugar glass.

If you have one, you can't help but want to explode it. And there's one point where Lucinda's being shown one, and Oscar wants to explode it. She says "Please, don't, because you and I both know what will happen, and afterwards there won't be anything to look forward to."

Anyway, I just had to tell someone about that.

Happy Easter, folks. Leo, I'm boarding in a few minutes. Make sure you're at the airport.
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ON WSFM WEBSITE [11 Mar 2007|12:20am]
Your favorite neighborhood DJ here. Sorry Jack: radio personality. It's my turn to do the internet picks of the weekend. I've been consciously avoiding being the on-line junky I've become after seeing those pictures of me at the Oscars. My best friend was NOT lying. Ben and Jerry and I broke up, but there are a few very good-looking personal trainers at the gym. Ah hell, who am I kidding. I'm not one of those cute blondes with the flouncy ponytail with makeup that stays on, and hair that doesn't frizz. Those girls NEVER sweat. It's the strangest thing! Well, there's actually a shot you can get injected with that temporarily shuts down the glands that make you sweat, or whatever the hell makes you sweat. I think that's dangerous, though. I don't know, I'll look into it, so listen to the show Monday morning if you're interested.

But I digress! Internet picks of the weekend:

1. LustLab Ad-of-the-Week
This person takes internet personal ads and makes hilarious little cartoons out of them.

2. The Smoking Gun: The Prince Edition
Viewer-response things to Prince's provacative performance during the Superbowl. Some of these are HYSTERICAL.

3. Blood Ninja's Cybering Style
I'd like to take a crack at making love like this. Any takers?

4. Fold That Shirt
Last night, I did this for hours. Damn those Japanese -- good at everything. I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Call in with something misogynistic if you seek revenge.

5. Retail Me Not
Ladies, ladies! Coupons! Endless internet coupon codes. Your finger will get tired of clicking before this coupon resources ends. It ends at the end of the internet, folks. Follow your nose!

6. So Your Wanna Enjoy Sushi ...
For your everyday poser, your aspiring hipster. You sushi beginners out there who can't read the menus because they're not in English? Get your education here. I did. And I don't trust these baby blues to just anyone.

7. PB Loco
Ever wanted to try Peanut Butter with Asian Curry Spice? Me neither. But they do have an incredible Peanut Butter with Dark Chocolate, my personal favorite. At least it was, in the days my ass wasn't as wide as a Spanish gallion.

8. Celebrity Nation
See the paparazzi photos before The Enquirer does.

9. Fitsugar
Fit or fat, this page has got what you need about fitness, diet, and exercise. You can find out all kinds of crazy ultra secret info that only certified nutritionists know right here. Want to know what your daily protein intake should be? Well, if you did want to know, you could find out.

10. Bug Me Not
Don't you hate when you want to view something on the internet, but you can't unless you're a member, so then you have to register and fill out the form, and give out personal information, and think of a password, and remember your password, and put it in? Well, guess what -- the people at Bug Me Not have already done that for you! Use one of their names and passwords to get into whatever you want, even sites you need to pay to access although that is bad and I'm not advocating such actions. It's illegal, you know.

BONUS: O Plus D Greeting Cards
I'm going to borrow their motto: Life is short. Laugh it up.

And to my brother LEO. Happy fucking birthday.
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Here's A Story About a Lovely Lady. [20 Feb 2007|06:55pm]
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Hi there, I'm Dallas O'Dell. If the name sounds a little familiar, it might be because you happened to tune your radio to the morning show over at WSFM Mondays thru Fridays. Or maybe you listen to Up All Night: OD & Moore on Fridays and Saturday nights. At the very least, you miiiiight have heard about an iiiiiiiitty bitty little scandal -- some radio DJ had a little bit of a nervous breakdown panic attack on the air after she found out her boyfriend of seven years was cheating on her? You know, the DJ that swore like a sailor, talked about her sex-life in "lewd and graphic detail" (I think they're embellishing a bit, myself), and earned WSFM a probable fine? The Sultana of Seediness, the Whore who Babbles On, and the entirely less creative Female Howard Stern? Yep, you guessed it. That's me.

And this is my introduction. Feel free to phone into my radio show with comments, questions, proposals. Oh, and I'm very, very available. Let me put that in big, bold letters: I'M VERY VERY AVAILABLE.

(The more positive feedback about that, the better. Work with me here. Help me have my ex eating his heart out instead of eating his latest woman out instead! Oh. And I should maybe be up front and say I was cheated on. I might smell bad, I might be a bad lay, I might be fat, or he might be gay. None of those things however, will effect you when pick up the phone.)

BASICS
+ 001. name: Dallas O'Dell
+ 002. nicknames: Dilly Dally, OD, Del, Dal, D, Dipshit (I'm sorry, I got carried away with the letter D. Ever since Sesame Street, that seems to happen. I just LOVE alliteration.)
+ 003. sex: Not a girl, not yet a woman, folks. RIP Britney. And I'd just like to say that her shaving her head and walking around with the Star of David around her neck (strikingly similiar to Natalie Portman, huh?) is like me putting on that Superwoman costume I wore when I was twelve and wearing it to the mall. I knew V for Vendetta was a good movie, but I never thought someone would love it that much.
+ 004. birthday: 1980. Okay, I lied. When I said Superwoman, I really meant Shera, but I don't want anyone to think I'm too old to be pop culture
+ 005. age: 26.
+ 006. star sign: You do the math.
+ 007. place of birth: Colorado Springs, Colorado.
+ 008. current residence: Where do you think, considering I'm posting this up in a Seattle Residents' blog?+ 009. hair color: There's a picture, and if you're blind, you can't read this anyway.
+ 010. eye color: Blue.
+ 011. height: 5'7"
+ 012. writing hand: Right.

BODY ILLS & SKILLS
+ 013. do you bite your nails? I do just about every neurotic habit known to man.
+ 014. can you roll your tongue? Of course, it's a dominant, genetic trait. In other words, I'm not original enough not to.
+ 015. do you have any habits? ... is eating a habit? Honestly, I think I've ventured well beyond the goal of sustanence and into gorging with BJ's. And that's nothing sexual, you perverts out there. Ben and Jerry's. The only way to really fulfill a woman.
+ 016. can you raise one eyebrow at a time? Yes. Do you know how long I practiced that in the mirror? I can only do it with one, though. The other one's limp.
+ 017. colored hair: Yeah. Highlights, black, auburn. I think there was an accidental purple in there, too.
+ 018. tattoos and where: I don't think I ever thought about getting one. Not because I'm opposed to it, just because ... I never thought about getting one. I'll ask something about that on my radio show.
+ 019. piercings and where: Ears. As bland as Wonderbread, I know.
+ 020. do you make your bed daily? Yes. Unless I'm depressed, but you don't have to make your bed until you get out of it so technically HAH - Yes, I do.
+ 021. which shoe goes on first? You know, I don't know. But when I take my shoes off under my desk at work, I always wedge the left one off first. Why, is there something Fruedian going on there?
+ 022. speaking of shoes, have you ever thrown one at someone? Oh, I'm guilty.
+ 023. what jewelry do you where 24/7? Pearl earrings and this gold cross my father gave me for my communion so long ago.
+ 024. how many cereals are in your cabinet? It's not my cabinet. It's Brett's -- I live with my best friend. We're still in the first flush.
+ 025. what utensils do you use eating pizza? Who uses utensils to eat pizza?
+ 026. do you cook? Yes. And you probably want me to.
+ 027. how often do you do the dishes? When they need doing?
GROOMING
+ 028. how often do you brush your teeth? Three, four, five times a day? I told you, neurotic.
+ 029. how often do you shower or bathe? Every day.
+ 030. how long do these showers last? Depends who's with me. I mean, I'm not the whore of Babylon or Babble On -- if my boyfriend was with me, longer. But not much longer. What a piece of shit.
+ 031. hair drying method: Air dry unless I'm dressing up.
+ 032. do you swear? WSFM is getting fined for me saying the "F" word 25 times in an hour. And let me tell you, it wasn't Flowers.
+ 033. do you mumble to yourself? All the time. I talk to to you, I'll talk to him, I'll talk to her, and if none of you are around, then I'll ... talk to myself. It's the only option.
+ 034. do you spit in public? ... No.
+ 035. person you talk most on the phone with? N/A -- I talk to lots of people every day. In my off time? Brett, my best friend.
+ 036. what color is your bedroom? Jewel tones.
+ 038. name one thing and person you're obsessed with: Currently, the internet and my pet dinosaur, Felix.
+ 039. window seat or aisle: Aisle. I don't want to be near the window, don't put me near that window.
+ 040. whats your sleeping position: On my stomach/side.
+ 041. what kind of bed do you like? A big one.
+ 042. in hot weather do you use a blanket? No, it's hot.
+ 043. do you snore? No, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you.
+ 044. do you sleep walk? No, but I used to pretend when I was little. I really wanted to!
+ 045. do you talk in your sleep? I never heard that I did, but Smith was good at keeping secrets.
+ 046. do you sleep with a stuffed animal? No.
+ 047. how about the light on? No lights.
+ 048. do you fall asleep with the tv or radio on? Radio. But the AM -- classical.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME
+ 049. watched bambi? Two days ago. Seriously.
+ 050. talked on the phone? Five minutes ago.
+ 051. read a book? Probably two months ago.
+ 052. punched someone? Two weeks ago.

FUTURE
+ 053. where do you see yourself ten years from now? I can't see that far. I have to get my eyes checked.
+ 054. who are you gonna marry and where? See, now I got around that first question effortlessly. I don't know, the one hundreth caller.
+ 055. how many kids do you want to have: At least one. Two. Two's a good number.

FRIENDS
+ 056. who are your best friends? Brett, Jack. My best on-line friend is FeelTheLix. I swear, I wasn't in one of those chatrooms.
+ 057. what friend do you hang out with the most? Brett. We work together, and most of the time, wep lay together.
+ 058. what friend makes you smile the most? Kyle.
+ 056. friend that you fight with the most? Brett.
+ 060. who you talk to on the computer the most: FELIX, DAMNIT. Felix.
+ 061. friend that you miss the most? My sister Addison. She's still in Boston. I love you, Addy! Oh, and Leo, I guess you're alright, too.
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Live, We're On The Air [14 Feb 2007|07:35pm]
"So today's Valentine's Day. Now we all know what Valentine's Day is -- it's for lovers and chocolate and flowers and candy, and kinky texts and e-mails to your special someone about the romantic dinner you're going to have later tonight, right? And of course, while that goes on, the rest of us -- and I'm new, you know I just joined your pathetic ranks -- I'm kidding, promise. If you can't make fun of yourself, who are you going to make fun of. Someone else? Good answer. See, I knew you were going to say that. You know why? Because I feel you. I feel your needs. I feel your pain. I know what you wanna hear, what you'd rather see -- who am I? Hey, let's take a caller, I'm looking for reasons to give my Valentine's away today here at WSFM. Tyson O'Roarke, you're on the air. Interesting name, Tyson."

"Thanks, Ma."

"My last name's O'Dell. O'Roarke, O'Dell. Neither of us would have to change our monograms. So make it happen! Let me give you a Valentine. Take a guess.

"The Virgin Mary."

"... Did you listen last week? No, I'm not the Virgin Mary, O'Roarke. Thanks for playing, though."

"I'm a psychic. I'm a psychic, that wasn't so hard, was it? We'll be giving away plenty of good stuff today -- gift certificates for Seattle's top restaurants like Bluewater and Vinny's, beautiful boquets of flowers by 1-800-Flowers, and I think we even have some diamond earrings from Reed's jewelers. So you cheapskates and scrubs, be attentive -- you could get laid tonight, and conceivably spend no money to do it! I'll be telling you guys some fun, Valentine over the next few hours, and A's on Pop Quizzes get you cash and prizes. Call me Miss O'Dell if you're nasty.

Did you guys know the U.S. Greeting Card Associa tion estimates that approximately one billion valentines are sent each year worldwide, making the day the second largest card-sending holiday of the year behind Christmas. Yeah, that association also estimates that women are doing 85% of the buying. I thought this was supposed to be a romantic holiday? But have no fear feminists out there -- I'm all for women's rights. Ladies, can we at least shoot for 50% here? And for the 35% of you who didn't get valentine's back? Dump him. You know what? I wanna hear some great gift stories, ladies. So call me up at 555-5555 WSFM, tell me about it.

Now some of you people out there -- you love me, you really love me. No, really. I got some presents. But I have a -- " [She does a clear-my-throat cough, says "be mine, cooze," and coughs again.] "-- whew, excuse me! I have a few favorites on this Single Awareness Day -- that's what they've started calling Valentine's day, don't you know? Now you do --" [Clears her throat, says "kiss me, slag," and clears her throat again.] Anyway, I got five boquets of flowers -- roses, to be exact. You guys are amazing except for you, Smith. I got your piece of shit roses, and the only way I'd love them is if I got to shove them up your ass. Now I promised I wouldn't say anything else about him, so I'm not. Moving on -- I got a lovely letter from Karen Parker in New Jersey -- Karen fell in love with me after I did that segment on date-rape and other women's issues. Well, not love, but a deep-seeded like. She's a wonderful writer. But my favorite, one of my all-time favorites came in a threepack: chocolate, sex, and liquor."
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ValenEve [14 Feb 2007|03:30pm]
Sir_Felix: Maybe....
Sir_Felix:But then I couldn't exactly wish you a Happy Valentine's Day, if it isn't this evening, now, could I?
DillyDally: ... No, no you couldn't. Have a Happy Valentine's Day -- I can't think of anything witty to say on this cold medicine, but the irony of that statement is ready to make those babies on its own. How does one HAVE a happy valentine's day?
Sir_Felix:Lots of sex, chocolate, and alcohol?
DillyDally: Two out of three ain't bad? Happy Valentine's Day to you, but if you shoot for "Not too much misery," it'd make my day a lot better
Sir_Felix: I think I could go without the chocolate, if I try reeeeeally hard. And thank you. I'll have a good day. Don't worry.
DillyDally: O.O
Sir_Felix: what?
DillyDally: Okay, that's none of my business, it isn't, and you're absolutely right in doing what it is you do. You can't go without chocolate, I sent you some
DillyDally: I really did. You could have me arrested -- your address, the station, with the tickets? I thought you could use some chocolate
Sir_Felix: I love chocolate. It's the best. Seriously. It has to be on my top 5 favorite things.
Sir_Felix: and what's none of your business?
Sir_Felix: My address? Psh.
DillyDally: This whole point and click shopping is dangerous for a grieving woman. I would have gotten you the chocolate anyway. The 14 movies off of iTunes, not so much
Sir_Felix: Damn.
DillyDally: What are the other four? And nothing, don't worry about it!
Sir_Felix: When are you going to have time to even watch those on your iPod?
Sir_Felix: But I WILL worry about it! I'm like that.
Sir_Felix: I think I already named three of them
DillyDally: Well honestly, I thought I needed something to do if my best friend hired big guys to drag me out the door and into the bar. Yeah, I'll be the girl on the end watching Steel Magnolias and bawling into her drink napkin?
Sir_Felix: Sex, chocolate, alcohol--- Steel Magnolias? That has to be one of the most annoying movies ever
DillyDally: It was silly. And presumptuous -- okay, The Notebook. Something manipulative and purposefully heart-wrenching. Sally Field's over dramaticism DOES make me feel better. I can't reduce it to a science, but it does
Sir_Felix: I can see where you're at.
Sir_Felix: I mean.. not physically.. Damn.. you know what I mean.
Sir_Felix: At least you'll be going out for Valentine's Day, hm? Even if you are the girl on the end with her attention wrapped up in her digital date.
DillyDally: It was about sex, okay -- Two out of three, I just ... -- LMAO. I'm at the computer. Where I'd like to be is on my bed, dropping Raisinettes into my mouth during the times I'm not talking and you're talking. But I'll save them for the station. I don't know! I don't know, I'd rather not. I'm still in the Jaba the Hut Stage o mourning. You know, Super Slovenly. You shouldn't have changed your mind about those Shins tickets
DillyDally: Do you remember MTV unplugged? Does that even HAPPEN anymore? Because that would be such an ideal this Valentine's Day
Sir_Felix: I shouldn't've?
DillyDally: No, you would have liked them. Well, this one song, I know you would have liked. I just have a FEELING. And if I didn't stay with radio or go into law enforcement as previously stated, I'd have my own psychic hotline
Sir_Felix: I'm good. I'll look into their CDs.. Maybe I can do that tomorrow night. It's that, or go out and treat myself to dinner. Maybe go to the theatre.
DillyDally: Well, whatever you do, if you want you can come home to me. I'll probably be here. We could watch a movie when I do. I mean, we'll have to pick the movies and rent them at Blockbuster and negotiate proper timing, but we could. There's gotta be some drinking game we could play with some movie. I mean, IF you're home. If I'm home. If we're home and haven't been carried out of our respective bars.
Sir_Felix: Ha. You're young. Go have fun at the bars with your friends. Don't worry about me. I'm fine.
DillyDally: I'm not WORRIED persay. Besides, you're going for two out of three tomorrow and the one you're trying to give up is chocolate. You don't worry about ME
Sir_Felix: Ha. I wish. If I'm truly going out for two out of three tomorrow, it will definitely be the chocolate and alcohol.
Sir_Felix: Maybe I'll get those chocolate marshmallow hearts. I like those.
Sir_Felix: and some Guinness.
DillyDally: Ugh. I have to go, stupid work in the stupid morning at stupid 8 stupid AM. That shift's midmorning tomorrow. I'll be on the air tonight until late -- And I apologize AHEAD of time for content, which will probably be risque, but you know, it's Valentine's Day. Call into the midmorning one if you feel more comfortable. You should pick those up. I like the naughty sweetheart things that say things like "tart," cooze," "slag," etc. And some Guiness.
DillyDally: Do something nice for someone tomorrow. You know, like a pay it forward deal
Sir_Felix: Maybe I'll have some naughty sweetheart things and Guinness sent over to the station.
DillyDally: You'll feel good :)
Sir_Felix: Adressed to Miss Wikipedia 2007.
DillyDally: And then I'll occasionally say "tart!" "cooze!" "slag!" on the air so you know which ones I got, and everyone will think I'm suffering from Valentine's Day Tourettes
Sir_Felix: brilliant.
Sir_Felix: Have a goodnight, Miss Wikipedia.
DillyDally: :D Damnit, I wish I had a Burger King Crown. Where is that when you need one?? Goodnight. Ugh, stop being so entertaining. You have to. I'm an internet junky.

To L, and Anybody Else For that Matter ... [12 Feb 2007|11:40pm]
You never have your cell phone on. That's not actually why I'm talking to you like this, but while we're on the subject of communication, I thought as your S, I should remind you that you're never going to get any work if you don't answer the phone. I realize that today is the day of technology/age of technology, etc., but let's face it -- you spend the majority of your time in bars. I know that this means you're method-writing, I know that all the greats did it that way. You know how well I know that? The absynthe that got delivered to your apartment two days ago? That was from me. Stop being a loser, L. Go get off your ass and collect some misery and heartbreak to use for all kinds of things later.

Speaking of heartbreak -- okay, that's a terrible lead-in. Speaking of hea- (there, that's better), we need to talk. Well, we really don't need to talk that much, but I wanted to tell you that if you're gay, that's okay with me. That's perfectly fine with me! It's very French poet 1860's. If it was just one of those drunken, wild, college things and you're as straight as they come, that's great! And by great, I don't mean it's better, I just mean it's acceptable. I don't mean it's acceptable, I mean I love you. But I still love you if you're straight, gay, bi, bent, and/or human pretzeled, you circus freak. And maybe this is awkward as hell for you, but so was that half page ad you took out in the Seattle Times after my breakdown -- that was sweet. And to your smart-ass remark about mailing me my Barbie dolls so I could strong-arm them into making Skipper and live vicariously, I have this to say. Actually, this woman you know said it. Well, not a woman you know personally, but you probably recognize the poem. STILL, it applies:


Kinky
by Denise Duhamel


They decide to exchange heads.
Barbie squeezes the small opening under her chin
over Ken's bulging neck socket. His wide jaw line jostles
atop his girlfriend's body, loosely,
like one of those novelty dogs
destined to gaze from the back windows of cars.
The two dolls chase each other around the orange Country Camper
unsure what they'll do when they're within touching distance.
Ken wants to feel Barbie's toes between his lips,
take off one of her legs and force his whole arm inside her.
With only the vaguest suggestion of genitals,
all the alluring qualities they possess as fashion dolls,
up until now, have done neither of them much good.
But suddenly Barbie is excited looking at her own body
under the weight of Ken's face. He is part circus freak,
part thwarted hermaphrodite. And she is imagining
she is somebody else-- maybe somebody middle class and ordinary,
maybe another teenage model being caught in a scandal.

The night had begun with Barbie getting angry
at finding Ken's blow up doll, folded and stuffed
under the couch. He was defensive and ashamed, especially about
not having the breath to inflate her. But after a round
of pretend-tears, Barbie and Ken vowed to try
to make their relationship work. With their good memories
as sustaining as good food, they listened to late-night radio
talk shows, one featuring Doctor Ruth. When all else fails,
just hold each other
, the small sex therapist crooned.
Barbie and Ken, on cue, groped in the dark,
their interchangeable skin glowing, the color of Band-Aids.
Then, they let themselves go-- Soon Barbie was begging Ken
to try on her spandex miniskirt. She showed him how
to pivot as though he was on a runway. Ken begged
to tie Barbie onto his yellow surfboard and spin her
on the kitcen table until she grew dizzy. Anything,
anything
, they both said to the other's requests,
their mirrored desires bubbling from the most unlikely places.


And because we're still on the subjects of all things non-Biblical -- and don't yell at me for sharing your business. I don't even talk about you on my radio show anymore, I met this guy who knows you. English professor named Reed. If you don't want to talk to him, run away, run away to your hiding place at the bottom of the bottle (1, 2, 3 ready or not, here I come!). Reed, if you're out there, say hello to L. And DON'T SAY HIS NAME. That gets me in trouble.

PS: Drink your heart out. Just make sure you hang onto your liver, okay? I might have a traumatic soap opera illness and need it, and you can give your life for me.
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002. i am an internet junkie [private] [11 Feb 2007|11:45pm]
DillyDally: Going once, going twice
Sir_Felix: ...Sold?
Sir_Felix: Now, if only I knew what I was bidding on...
DillyDally: ... Yeah, I really didn't think that one through, did I?
DillyDally: Well if you didn't answer, I was going to really assume instead of just kind of assume like I did last time, that you don't want to talk anymore
Sir_Felix: Not want to talk anymore? What makes you say that? Of course I'd like to keep talking with you.
DillyDally: Well, I'm the one who's sold, then :D
DillyDally: So Guy, how was your weekend?
Sir_Felix: Really? Surely you're classier than to go about selling yourself, hm?
DillyDally: ... Wait, no. Your answer was sold, because I bought it. What is that "I'm sold" expression anyway, it's confusing
DillyDally: I bought your answer, so why am I sold?
Sir_Felix: My weekend? Let's see... I jogged through Central Park.. and sat at home.
Sir_Felix: And yo'ure not sold.
Sir_Felix: But if you were on sale.. I'd buy you.. so that no one too terribly horrendous would get ownership.
DillyDally: Thank GOD someone has my back. What'd you sit at home doing? If you're sitting at home, you could write me, you know!
Sir_Felix: I slept mostly. played the piano a little. Had a few drinks.. Unpacked a little..
DillyDally: You're better than me, I haven't unpacked yet
Sir_Felix: I don't know where to put anything.
DillyDally: Well, give me an item, and I'll tell you where to put it
DillyDally: Pick something interesting
Sir_Felix: It's okay. I'd rather talk about something else.
Sir_Felix: What did you spend the weekend doing?
DillyDally: I worked on my Ben and Jerry's -- I won't stop eating until I collect all the pints or have a heart attack from high cholesterol, whatever comes first
Sir_Felix: At least you have a plan and a goal!
DillyDally: And I met with that guy -- that English professor they hired to write my work? Apparently, he knows my brother -- my brother's a writer - Ha!
DillyDally: My roommate keeps trying to get me to go on these blind dates. I won't, so she's taken to inviting her "friends" over to "hang out" and "watch movies"
DillyDally: She makes chips and popcorn and mini hot dogs and sets them all out on the coffee table, and SOMEHOW thinks she's being discreet
Sir_Felix: Perhaps you should just let her feel like the Matchmaker.. Enjoy it. At least you've got a friend who wants you to be happy. hm?
DillyDally: Well then she better start inviting women over, because I'm going lesbian
DillyDally: I just have to figure out how to like girls, and then I'm set!
Sir_Felix: That's actually rather tragic.
DillyDally: How very Shakespearean of me
DillyDally: Maybe that writing thing runs in the family
Sir_Felix: To waste such talent, beauty, and humour on another woman...
DillyDally: You think a woman wouldn't appreciate that sort of thing?? I'm TELLING. And when I do, you'll have lots of hate mail to answer, you'll be so busy you won't know what to do with yourself
Sir_Felix: I'm sure there's a good guy out there for you. You can't think we're all bad like your bafoon of a bloke you spoke of on the radio the other evening.
DillyDally: I'm kidding -- I wouldn't do that to you. Thanks, Guy. I like calling you Guy, it reminds me of when we first met
Sir_Felix: Sure, women deserve that sort of thing too.. But A guy would like to be the one to do that more, i'm sure.
Sir_Felix: I guess if you'd really like to call me Guy, I'll let you.
DillyDally: I'm watching this show right now, called Intervention. You should put it on -- Okay, well if I call you Guy, you call me Flower, and if you haven't seen Bambi we have issues. And if you HAVE seen Bambi we have issues because Flower was really a man, but I'm not
Sir_Felix: Must I really call you Flower?
DillyDally: No, that was a joke
DillyDally: It would help if my jokes were funny, huh?
DillyDally: I have to conserve my sense of humor. It's in a canteen, I use it sparingly
Sir_Felix: I think you're funny. I've started listening to your show. -
DillyDally: I think ... I didn't know you were right there. I've been doing this since college, so it really doesn't hit me that much anymore, but sometimes it does -- knowing you're there and I don't know you're there, but there you are
DillyDally: You should call in again, we can talk
DillyDally: I'm glad you're listening, though! It makes me smile, and not even Ben and Jerry do that :D
Sir_Felix: Ben and Jerry make everyone smile, don't they? They always made my wife smile. I don't think there was a flavor that she didn't like.
Sir_Felix: And I don't know what I'd call in again for
Sir_Felix: But I'm glad I can make you smile. That makes me smile knowing that I could make you smile.
DillyDally: I think there's something in the genetic makeup of a woman, I think they're going to find it and catalogue it on the X chromosome one of these days
DillyDally: Okay. Well you know how I ask questions? Just call in and answer one of them when we're on the air. You know Felix, you don't seem like the kind of guy who would normally call in to a radio station
Sir_Felix: I'm not. I don't know why I called in the other night...
DillyDally: I can't believe you're smiling. Are you doing it?? Right now??
Sir_Felix: Sure. I can't help it.
DillyDally: Sure? "Sure?" Hey, I'll take it :)
Sir_Felix: Why?
DillyDally: Because "sure" is considered yes in some states
DillyDally: In others it's considered what you say when you're pacifying someone and the person you're pacifying WANTS you to say yes
Sir_Felix: In England, it's yes...
DillyDally: What was your favorite place in England?
Sir_Felix: The countryside. Vivian liked the countryside. Never wanted to live there, though.. I liked living in London. As far as specific places? I don't really have one.
DillyDally: Do you have family there, or ..?
Sir_Felix: Yeah.
DillyDally: I'm from Boston. My parents and my little sister Addy live there. My brother lives in Portland -- he's trying to make it as a playwright
DillyDally: Do you do any artsy things, or are you just a numbers man?
Sir_Felix: I'm from Oxford. Mum and dad live there. I have a sister in Scotland. And another sister and a brother that live in London too.
DillyDally: Do they visit?
Sir_Felix: I adore the arts. Hate numbers, actually. I used to take Viv to the opera and theatre all the time.
Sir_Felix: Visit here?
DillyDally: Yeah. And what's your favorite show -- opera/theatre wise
Sir_Felix: Barber of Seville. Or Carmen. Opera-wise. And I like The Music Man.. I don't know why. I know it's common.. but I like it..
DillyDally: Myy parents TRIED to take us when we were little, but it didn't work out too well. The one time I went, I fell asleep and wet my pants. I was five
DillyDally: I have since by the way, learned to not be a bed-wetter
Sir_Felix: Heh. You should go again sometime. It's fun.
DillyDally: LMAO when I first read that, I thought you were talking about wetting your pants at the opera being fun. I wish you could have seen my face
Sir_Felix: ....oh.. that's what I meant..
DillyDally: LMAO
Sir_Felix: :-)

[30 Jan 2007|10:20pm]
testing.
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