Well, so far no Japanese porn seekers have visited my diary today. But I've decided to make a list of possible random fetishes and see if it gets me any referrals. Hey, I'm just curious, OK?

*Ahem*. Here goes:

Midget Porn

Naked Nuns

Bill Gates Nude

Naked Guys Wearing Hats and Boots

Eyeball Licking

Auto-Fellatio

Kenneth Starr nude

There. I know that was tasteless ... but it's just an experiment, OK? OK. More lists will be made as I think of more quirky random fetishes that aren't too offensive to mention in this diary. Yeah, that's right, people ... fetishes DO get more disturbing than those mentioned above, so don't look at me like I'm being obscene ... besides, it's not like those are any of my fetishes up there. My fetishes are far more mundane and much more likely to involve fully clothed pictures of Chris Murphy or Graham Coxon than, say, pictures of "barely legal teens" wearing nothing but duct tape, or copyright violations of Sailor Moon characters being probed by creatures with tentacles. I mean, really. That's just SICK, people.

Anyway, I'll keep you all posted on the strange search engine referrals ... because I just know you're as fascinated by all of this perversion as I am. Admit it, you are, you kinky freaks.

Oy vey. I have officially lost all sense of time in my life. Seriously. I've gotten myself into this pattern where I go to bed at 5 or 6 am, and get out of bed around 1 or 2 pm the next day. Setting my alarm doesn't seem to work anymore. I wake up in the afternoon, and by the time I've gotten up, had coffee, showered, and made myself pretty, all the nine-to-fivers are coming home from work and it's too damn busy and insane to go out and pass out resumes or do anything else outside my apartment. This is not cool. I NEED to get up earlier. So I told my mom to make SURE I'm up and out of my bedroom before she leaves for work tomorrow morning. I've had her knock on my door to wake me up, and I've had her call me from work to wake me up. In both cases I invariably utter a drowsy, muffled "Mmmkay ... thankssh Mom. I'm up.", yawn, roll over, and fall back into my typical deep, dark, couldn't-wake-me-up-with-an-electric-chainsaw sleep. One time a couple of weeks ago I didn't even manage to hang up the phone before I dozed back off again, and I woke up several hours later with a button pad imprint on my cheek (I wish I was making that up). It was not a proud day. So I'm taking one more extra measure to ensure that I get out of bed with enough time to do all that morning getting-ready stuff that I do. If that doesn't work, I'm afraid the next step will involve hiring someone wearing a whole lot of leather and chains and metal spikes to come into my room in the morning, tear off my blankets, and bring a cat-o'-nine tails down on my delicate flesh. So I'm hoping tomorrow's method is successful, needless to say.

My mom will be dominating the computer for much of the evening yet again ... and as a matter of fact, she's due back home from her hip-hop dance class in a few minutes ("Was that a joke?", you ask? "No it was not.", I reply.), so I'd best be getting my ass offline right about now. I think I'll walk over to Indigo and scan the aisles for hotties ... I saw this amazing black-haired, glasses-wearing, bed-headed guy there the other day ... at the cafe, reading ... alone. Maybe he frequents the place ... who knows? Oh shut up ... I know that the odds of seeing some random person in a public place more than once in downtown Toronto are slim-to-none ... but let me have my happy little delusions, will you please? Thank you.

Have a good night.

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