So I'm cleaning up my downstairs from the night before (for some reason Matty likes to have sex on my futon in the finished basement first...I guess that's the foreplay? because then we go upstairs to my bed...very odd) So anyways the point of this tale--I pick up a condom wrapper, which I have now found four lying about the house (go us!). So I pick up the wrapper and I notice that the expiration date is 2/2002. Ummm hi Matty, use condoms much? Obviously not. Unless with those who insist I guess? And then they are three years old...meh. Next time, I'm supplying (if there is a next time).

Oh, got another horoscope...You're a magnet. A veritable magnet for the attention of interesting, attractive others -- and that's not all. You can't turn it off -- but then, why would you want to? All I gots to say (that was intentional bad grammar) is Drk better watch his sweet ass because if I'm a magnet then he's steel (ha ha, who sings that? It's on the Boogie Nights soundtrack but I can't find my copy, as I am singing it horribly out of tune right now!)