Step around the poop, if you can

Jaded One, you gave me strength.Thanks. Time will eventually heal-Dont know how, Maybe after I cut out the piece of my heart that manfriend occupies,I'll need to use a Ginsu.

Moving on through torn up heart...

I have found a gym that I joined about 6 wks ago-sort of like, the style of a Curves-30 minutes on each machine- Im up to 40-45 minutes. Im up to 10-15 minutes on the Euclipitacal or whatever its called, kind of like a combination treadmill,cross sking,rower machine-cardio.

I go 3 times a week-missed last night-1st time I ever missed a session but depression kept me home. They say exercise is good for depression, something about that it releases endorphins or dolphins, anyway the "happiness" chemicals in your brain..I plan on going tomorrow just for the high! plus I can eat a potato chip and not feel like I gained 80 pounds.



I had to move physically at my job-so now Im no longer sitting next to the guy who spits loogies all day, now Im next to the coworker who came to work with her pants on inside out one day, she blows air out of her mouth ALL day long-sounds like a tea kettle is about to boil over. So, now, I ask unsuspecting people who come into my cubicle and jump as they hear the weird whistle-if they have any crumpets.

Here's a joke someone sent me-that I thought was rather funny, but judge for yourself if you've got time to read:

One morning, Tyrone asked his work buddy Fred, "Man, why you always so
>damn happy when you come to work every day?"
>Fred replied, "That's because I make love to my wife every morning
>before work."
>Amazed, Tyrone asked him, "How do you get your wife to make love to you

>every morning?"
>"That's easy," Fred said. "I just tell her this little poem that I made

>up. She loves it! It goes like this: Blond hair, blond hair, eyes so
>blue. I love waking up and making love to you!"
>Tyrone was amazed, "Man, you white guys are so damn sentimental and
>shit." He decided to give it a try. So he spent the rest of the day
>thinking up a poem for his wife.
>The next day, Tyrone showed up to work just all beat to hell - bruised
>eyes, broken nose, fat lip, the works.
>Fred asked, "Man, what happened to you?"
>Tyrone said, "I do! n't know, man. I went home and tried your idea
that's

>all. I just told her a poem."
>Fred asked, "Well, what poem did you tell her?"
>Tyrone said, "Nappy head, nappy head, eyes like a frog. If I could roll

>yo fat @ss over, I'd hump you like a dog."