I've returned from the wretched world of monogamy at last! I finally remembered why I gave it up in the first place. Relationships are sort of like heroin. When it's good, you want more so badly you'd kill your own mother (but what wouldn't I kill the bitch for?). But one bad overdose can set you straight for decades. Although unlike heroin, relationships do not make you prettier.

It was good to get back on the, uh, horse this weekend. Though it did mean putting off a rather large paper. But as I've always beleived, you can retake a class but you can't relive a night of furious fucking. Admittidly, both my ass muscles and my morning after etiquette were a little out of practice. While I generally try to minimize the "just got fucked" look, Monday was a blantant and very long walk of shame. Accessorizing my mismatched outfit with "sex hair", I rode the Metro back for my morning class and then quickly retreated to the bat cave. Much to my dismay, upon arriving home, I discovered half a condom wrapper stuck to my ass under my jeans. Rather than being filled with shame, I spent most of the evening contemplating how it managed to stay there for an entire day.

Brought to you by the "back and better than ever" version of the letter L.