Arrrggghhh. . . .ya free Saturday night?

So my mom has instituted a new ban on swearing. (Yes I am a nearly-23-year-old and I'm living with my mom. Get over it. I have. Kind of.)

Actually, it's not really a ban, it's more like a tendency to squawk "Laura!" in shocked tones whenever a curse word escapes my lips. I think it's sort of funny, given that everyone in this household is 18 or nearly so, but it's probably a good thing. I cuss a lot, and it's not very attractive, and who knows when I'll find myself hosting a Saturday-morning children's show or in a job interview for the Christian Science Monitor or having tea with the Queen of England, or some similar situation in which swearing like a pirate would be inappropriate. (I really like pirates though. I won't let my mom get in the way of that, I promise.)

So, in an effort to get it all out of my system;
@$#&?*&;*&^%#%#@@:!@#$@!%$$@@#$">!@#$@! %$$@@#$:?* *&>amp;$#@!@@$">?*<*&$#@!@@#$#@ !$#@%}\&*&%$!#@$%%!

In other news, my birthday is in exactly a week. I expect outpourings of presents, preferably in monetary and/or pink convertible Beetle form, because I'm just turning 23 and no one in my family gives a rat's ass (not that I blame them, it's understandably difficult to get excited when an unemployed wannabe writer living in her parents' garage turns a boring age).

(I don't particularly give a rat's ass myself, but that doesn't mean I don't want lots of presents.)

(Wait, is "ass" a swear word? No one gives a HOOT, is what I meant to say.)