Hello, dorks! Welcome to the revampired Dorks Do Not Rock! What they "Don't"? That's right, they don't!
As you can tell, this page is now blue, which is the color of my shirt and jeans. Coincidence? Maybe, I'll never tell. It'll go down in history as one of the great mysteries, like why was Paul Bunyan so tall and who really built Big Ben? (pssst, it was the British)
You can also leave me comments now. I was wary of doing this, because I really fear that some dorks are going to leave stupid things. No stupid things! What's stupid? Well, anything that isn't perfectly written or doesn't make me want to scream "switchblade" and/or laugh.
Feel free to leave your phone number so other dorkreaders can call you for phone sex.
Not me though, me no call. Me have girl who curls red.
R. Esponsible had to work at the place where the save kids last night. So, I had the whole place to myself. I beat Halo, had a burrito, a few beers, tried to watch T.V. .... and then I was freakin' bored out of my skull.
I paced.
I looked at DVDs (didn't watch, just looked at them. I have a problem now that when I go to watch one my DVDs the movie plays through my head very quickly and I feel like watching it will be a waste of time ... plus all the girls can be naked in my imaga-movie!)
I paced.
I tried to decide between peanuts and chips.
I ate chips.
Contemplated whether my decision was the right one.
Ate more chips.
Paced in front of the peanuts.
Settled on the chips.
Went to bed.

This is what I do when I'm alone. I pace and eat chips and think about peanuts. Ask anyone who has lived with me, although they weren't with me when I was alone (because I was alone) they know my pace habits. I walk around, complain about boredom and not knowing what to do and then go to bed.

I really missed R. Gone too, dorks. Calm down, shitdorks! You aren't getting ooh-ahh-fodder out of me. It's just that last night was the first night I had to sleep alone at our place. It was kind of not as sad as you think but sadder than dropping a candy bar into gravel.
All of the plastic trinkets and girly things that I complain about cramping my style reminded me of R. Nots. I started to like them because they were part of her and I was there and she wasn't but her stuff was. So ... I now love the plastic piggy bank! The rainbow flowerpot is A-OK! Hula man and pink pillow welcome to my world of love and understanding!


"Why do you always chop off my head after I kill your kid?"
Are you angry yet, dorks? Are you angry at the right people?

Nervous to let you silly dorks
tell me if my website works
and talk about what I write
about girls butts and why we fight.

Later, dorkarinas!
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