But I digress…sorry I got distracted from the true point of my last post. I am obsessed with GO. I play countless games with my nemesis SmartGo on a 9×9 board and have managed to lower my handicap for a while only to be AI Smashed by Smart Go before I can get it down to no handicap. IT learns from my play and puts me in my place. I am still unclear on how to form an eye or how to score. I hate when SmartGO starts to run me across the board. When there are only 9×9 squares that happens fairly quickly usually after I play the 6th stone. They play 7 and unless I consult their lightbulb by the 16th white (Smart Go) is 83 points ahead and I am completely encircled.

Recently I have rededicated myself to earning the key certifications to jump start my career from low tier slave to mid-tier slave. With no kids no mortgage no car payments etc. just a little more money would ensure I do not slit my wrists when old age sets in for real. AND a diabecrocancilegator (Genus Diabetes and Auto Immune Genetic Mutation) lurking in the swampy water that is my DNA makes it move. First it’s your garden variety MMA fight feeling each out her out only to become in round 3 the grappling  homoerotic junk hump  that  makes MMA one of my favorite sports to watch.  I will be waterboarded and savaged at the same time. The excruciating bites are enhanced by suffocation and semi disembowelment by the creatures’ claws.  I have a knife, a sad dull thing so I start stabbing anywhere I can, but he keeps humping my junk and biting out pieces of me which he spits out because I taste like garbage. I manage to shove the dull knife into its eye burrowing further into the grey matter; she keeps rolling, an autonomic response to brain death. As for me blood loss and drowning has already killed me and the beasts death carriers us both down to Davy Jones Locker, floating deeper joined by sailors and albatrosses, also locked in the same futile struggles, finally becoming Thanksgiving  dinner for tiny parasitic crabs.

Not to mention I want to travel, and have relations with someone from Oceana before the DNA chickadees come to roost.  And I look like my age. I cannot guarantee that I will last long enough for AI to figure out how to stop humans from dying.

Currently pain is my only physical pleasure. My hips knees and toes are killing me.  My teeth (the baby ones) are finally rotting as I approach the second puberty. My GINORMOUS breasts, once supported by a Crunch Spinning class ass created 20 years ago in Sherman Oaks, necessitate a  100 dollar bra from LANE BRYANT. The ability to wrap my legs around a Oceanic O-CE ANER?  of say the Rocks stature is becoming less and less likely.

 I was born prematurely pigeon- toed with a tiny head and heart condition.  I still have 3 baby teeth in my mouth.  I lack innate intelligence or reasoning, flexibility, and am unable to see the trees for the forest; only  brute strength and a dogged voice in my head singing the Reading Rainbow theme as Metal as Metal can be  has gotten me this far to seeming smart in the  inbred pond of my mother’s hometown.   I can barely afford to host a blog much less a car or a trip to Samoa.