  i can't use a public toilet without covering the entire seat with 3 to 4 layers of toilet paper. i don't know what sort of disease i'm afraid of getting, but i fear that if i don't take those protective measures, i'm going to end up one evening in a compromising position with my lover looking at the backs of my upper thighs and ass, saying, "how did you get this green and purple rash?
" and, he'll also remark, "i think your left butt cheek has fallen off- no wonder you looked so strange in your jeans. " i can't touch the flusher, i need to kick it with my shoe. and i always take note of who's washing their hands and, more importantly, who isn't. i went for coffee tonight with shane and took home the coffee mug. i stuck it in my purse and everything and almost took offense when shane compared me to grandmothers worldwide. almost. but let me just reiterate how nice this mug is. and how overpriced my drink was. i did the math and came up with one mug, my favor.
bam. oh, the klepto in me can't wait for mini-golf season. i'm going to have a crapload of putters lying around the bedroom, and more colored golf balls than i'll be able to count. i'll be able to set up my own mini-golf place, call it "windmills and shit. " i'll just have to watch and make sure that no one steals my putters. or my golf balls. now that would be a bitch, probably wreck my day so much that i'd find myself on a public toilet without the aforementioned requisite covering of toilet paper.
and my scenario of the rash and lost left butt cheek? a vivid reality, and one much too scary to continue to write about. 
