Yo Shake That Thing Yo Jo-Anna.

I'm sitting here in a quaint, local little wine bar, all by myself, drinking a little pink sparkling champagne, with my constant companion, my laptop, wrtitng my next bum-bum blog. A stranger just approached me. And I mean approached me, child. Know I'm sayin'? It doesn't happen all that often, but when it does, I know.*

* I also got checked out by a chick who sounded like Shelly from Big Brother 13.

This middle-aged gent quite literally was all, "What's a beautiful girl like you doing all alone here on a Friday night?" I was writing a blog, so I said, "I'm writing a blog." Because I'm clever like that.


He was instantly intrigued. Oh yeah, I still got it, I thought, mentally shaking my booty.


Who am I kidding, this is the only booty I'm familiar with:

Nom. Nom nom nom.




"Oh yeah?" he says. "A blog? What about?"


In a split second I decided to take the honest route.


"Um," I said. "Actually, embarrassingly enough, it's about my OCD."


His stricken face looked like I had just told him I was singlehandedly responsible for 9/11. 

"Oh," he said. "Oh."  And he backed away slowly, never to be heard from again.


I snickered a little. I mean, it's not like I'm looking for dates.

But I know somewhere deep down I still got it. Oh I still got it. Except for this debilitating mental crisis. Whatevski.


Anyway, the whole thing was all manner of LOL. Since I scared a growed-ass man like you off so bad, next time you're looking for a fine young thang on a Friday night, mister, try a personal ad, but please make sure to mention: MUST LOVE GERMS.

. . .


To make this entry fit with the theme of this blog, let me tell you that I am currently as of this very secong watching the owner of this little wine bar wash the wine glasses by hand. He is giving each and every wine glass the most cursory of spooge sponge-washes I have ever seen. There is no autoclave dishwasher in sight. That explains why I continue to see lipstick and herpes simplex crawling all over every drinking glass I'm ever presented with.

THAT'S HOT.

Does he think that flippant swipe of a dank sponge kills germs? That a swirl of sudsy water washes away the horrors of the human gob?  Do YOU? Are you OK with that?? Tell mama, child. Are you OK with a filthy sponge being swiped over your glass? And don't give me any of that "alcohol kills the germs" bullshat. It would have to be Everclear, and it would have to be lit on fire or sit for like 8 days in the Sahara for it to kill some of the shit found in the mouths of humans.

Fuck. I am now totally side-eyeing my glass of delicious pink champagne.

WWRMcCD?


Anyway. We now return you to your regular bum-bum blogging.