it's twelve o'clock somewhere.

"where is it?" a raspy voice crackled into my right ear.

"it? what is it ? what are you talking about, mister?" i responded, still groggy from a delicious, but interrupted, nap.

"oh you KNOW what IT is," the voice persisted, more menacing than before. "if i don't get it soon, you'll be sorry."

"seriously lisa, i'm trying to sleep. i'll blog it up later i promise. now go get yourself some chloroseptic..you sound like my brother when he was going through puberty," i said as i slipped back into my slumber, knowing full well that there was a better chance of my sociology professor showing up to class in a sequined thong and boobie tassels than there was for me to keep my promise of a blog-filled evening. fingers crossed..never fails. suckaaaaaaaaaz.

that exact conversation, or something like it (read: "lex..do a blog." "eh..not now."), occurred almost two months ago. apparently, my roomie isn't the only one perceptive enough to notice the lack of action up in this piece. what was once a pretty hoppin' brothel has become a chaste convent. jay nice had some choice words ("you gotta do one..i got my boys hooked on it!"), as did my asian twin pauly ("that shit is hysterical girl..do it up."), and even my own brother ("what? no one's been pissing you off lately?"), who will undoubtedly have something to say about the throwback to his not-so-distant past ("you're such a bitch."). the hate mail did begin to wain for a while..but the queries came back full-force this evening as i innocently poisoned my mind with reality television. even as i type these words, deven smith-clarke himself imed me with a demand of his own. it's a sweeping epidemic..and NO ONE is vaccinated. you best drop your pants.

exuses are for homewreckers and politicians (a bit repetitive, i know), so i will spare you a movie of the week worthy tale of woe. i attribute most to laziness and busyness, some to nekidness, even less to soberness. school has been playing a hot little game of "kick-my-can," the debaucherous week known as spring break has come and gone and stripped me of checking funds, braincells, maybe a pair or two of panties, and the day i had been waiting for for the past eternity finally arrived.

the rumors are true..aside from my dwarf-like proportions and childlike sense of wonder, this gal right here has joined the ranks of that scary species known as "grown-up." i'm not saying that i've traded in the civvy for a minivan and my whore boots for orthopedic mules, but it's probably in your best interest to take a whiff before taking a swigg of any drink in my grasp. ahhhhh 21: it's a beautiful thing. my liver, on the other hand, has seen better days. sorry ol' gal..i truly am. i'll make it up to you..meet my friend. his name is mr. cuervo. not your type, eh? well maybe you'd you prefer that red-headed slut at the end of the bar? menagetrois? SCANDALOUS!

..OH the possibilities that lie ahead!
lex