Bank, boob, story
Tuesday, Jul. 12, 2005 - 18:29

A few months ago I closed my Bank of America accounts. I opened them in the first place only because they gave me free money! And then to my horror they reported my free money to the IRS!

Today I got two credit card offers from them. One said:

Dear Regina Z. Toowomba,

Thank you for trusting Bank of America with your business for over 10 months. We value your bank relationship which includes a checking and savings account. As one of our best customers, we'd like to extend to you one of our most valuable offers....

My left boob itches. It's itched for years. And it doesn't matter what I do, it just keeps on itching. I just had to disrobe and put hydrocortisone on it.

Yesterday I came home and took off my undergarments and did laundry, undergarmentless. And then last night I slept totally nudie, not even underwear.

Itch. It is cloudy but warm.

Here is a story I wrote at work, to be serialized and published in my latest creative outlet, the illegal and underground Weekly Update I started for my floor: (I might change her last name, I might change her friend's last name too.)

The Fairweather Friendships of Myrtle B. Johnson

Myrtle B. Johnson certainly wasn't the most popular girl in her eighth grade class but she certainly wasn't the least popular either. She was invited to parties at regular intervals, had the odd boyfriend or two, and was as knowledgeable about school gossip as anyone. She played volleyball, basketball, and softball - although not particularly well - and was second chair clarinet in the eighth grade band - second out of 29 clarinetists. She got good grades - mostly Bs with enough As thrown in to make her feel smug - and she rarely got in trouble at school.

Myrtle B. Johnson's best friend was a girl named Taffy Black and if ever the word 'mousy' applied to anyone it applied to Taffy Black. While her name suggested someone with a certain amount of vibrance, poor Taffy Black was about as unvibrant as a person can get. She never laughed, she rarely smiled, and she only spoke to teachers, her priest, and Myrtle B. Johnson. Her own parents hadn't heard her voice in nearly two years, since they'd tried to make her wear a dress to her sixth grade graduation ceremony. Taffy Black held terrible grudges, and she never wore dresses.

Taffy Black was thin and a dingy shade of pale - Myrtle B. Johnson was round and reddish and sort of shaped like a turtle. It was her one sore spot, being called Myrtle the Turtle - but none of the kids had dared call her that (except of course behind her back) since first grade, when she punched two boys in the face for the offense. One boy's nose was broken - he'd moved away the next year - and the other had a black eye for two weeks. Myrtle had mellowed out considerably since, but her classmates would never forget, and each new kid was warned: "Don't call her Myrtle the Turtle! Just don't!"

Myrtle and Taffy had been best friends for a year and a half, since the great Best Friends Shuffle that had taken place their sixth grade year. Prior to that, Myrtle's best friend had been Sarah Barrera, and Taffy's had been Bawbi Jo Walker. Now, Sarah was best friends with that snot Britney Whitney, and Bawbi Jo was best friends with boys.