Hola! What’s shakin? What’s poppin’? What is going on?

This entry is brought to you by Maxwell House, coffee of the cheap. Guess what – it still fucking works like a charm.

I only lasted a half an hour on the treadmill this morning, primarily because I had a couple of beers last night. I have learned that beer + treadmill = not compatible. Even though I have become a Smart Drinker and down a glass of water after every beer, thereby lessening the chance for a hangover by about a zillion percent, I don’t eat as much these days and have found that I still feel a little crappy the next morning, even after very few beers.

God, you’d almost think I would have to stop drinking.

HA HA HA HA HA HA

Right.

Anyway, something rather interesting has popped up in my life, in the form of an ex that I honestly thought I’d rather eat rat poison than speak to again.

I got a text last week that read “Hey.” It wasn’t from anyone in my contacts, so I was rather confused, but I texted back, “Hey. Who is this?”

No response.

Being a curious sort, I looked it up on the net, and found the city that the number came from. It was the city of my ex, who I had deleted from my contacts with much venom and prejudice.

“Why didn’t you just tell me who you were??”

Anyway, we wound up texting back and forth for quite some time, and he was extremely apologetic for having been a sincere and major ass, and well, he asked me out.

I probably could have told him to fuck off – which actually was my first instinct, but I decided – more out of pure morbid curiosity than anything – to say yes, on the condition that it was not a date.

We made plans for Friday, plans that then had to be canceled on account of him barfing at work, but we texted all weekend.

I’m still not sure what to think about all this. This is someone who hurt me, and I don’t necessarily want to let him off of the hook all that easily. Still, he’s apologized about a frillion times, and I’m not one to hold a grudge.

I suppose I should just enter into this with extreme caution, bearing in mind the adage, “Screw me once, shame on you, screw me twice, shame on me.”

We shall see.

In other news, the J-Man and I went to see that new Red Riding Hood movie yesterday. It was pretty good, moderately gory for a PG-13 rating, I thought, and sort of melodramatic (“KEEEEL THE WOLLLLF!” Gary Oldman, you’re a bit over the top); but not bad, and the J-Man really enjoyed it.

There was one part involving a cute little fluffy bunny that gave me much pause, but I won’t spoil it.

In other news, I’m horribly addicted to bad Lifetime movies again. I had sort of overcome this addiction for a while, but now that we have Comcast we have Lifetime Movie Network, which shows the fucking things 24 hours a day, fueling my addiction to previously unheard of heights.

I have a Problem, people. This morning one was on that featured Susan Lucci and I was so excited I nearly peed myself. Lifetime AND Susan Lucci? Bonus!

The other night I taped one (GAH) with Heather Locklear (whose legs never age) starring as a highly delusional cuckoopants who imagined an entire family for herself and killed two people.

I don’t care who you are, that’s good TV.

I am off like a dirty shirt to go and wash my dirty shirts.

Happy Monday.

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