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Thursday, January 09, 2003
I've become such a domestic. Seriously, my social life died with 2002. All I need are velcro hair curlers and some fluffy pink slippers to wear with a terry-towelling robe. I can be fun! I can be cute! I can be charming (well, in my acidic way)! Where the fuck is everyone? I think I have B.O or something. All my friends always abandon me! I mean, I don't really care about them but they might know hot people who I could have sex with.

In this week of loserness, I've tasted the life of a stay-at-home mum (without the gross kids, of course). I've COOKED. Last night I made this bitchin' lasagne, and today I whipped up this weird Lemon Souffle-y thing I found in an old box of my grandmother's recipes. It's good in that I feel like I'm accomplished something, and through creating something the whole family can enjoy, I am encouraging love vibes and familial harmony and prosperity. (Obviously watching Oprah is another thing a stay-at-home mums/Losers do). However, I can feel my ass expanding and I feel hideous and repulsive and my hair is way too curly and a hideous colour and no wonder noone is calling me I look like a fucking troll!

No wonder stay-at-home mums are all depressed and drown their babies. It's a fucking vicious cycle of ugliness. Social leper, boredom, eating and TV binge, more "voluptuous" build, more social leper-ness.

Do you think anyone hot will be studying French this year? Besides me, I mean?