Put The Sausages Down!

It's disgusting. The sound of sausages being chewed. Smacky, wacky, slurpy. It is making my pepporoni pizza do cartwheels in my tummy. I want to vomit. The only reason why I am blogging about this is so that the sound of the keys being typed on the keyboard will hopefully drown out the echo of her sausage lips.

Nope. The typing isn't quite enough. I had to claim that I was hot so I turned on the air conditioner in the room. It is 55 degrees and raining outside. Absolutely no need for the air to be turned on. Noise. Noise.....more precious noise! Oooh! A phone call! I'll let it ring three times.

OK. They just needed to be transferred to the Fine Arts Department. It appears that Monster Mouth is finished dining. Ah. Silence. Let's see, what to blog about today...I saw the season premiere of LOST the other night. I think - OH MY GOD! SHE HAS CANTALOUPE! The only thing noisier to slosh around her loosey-goosey, garbage disposal mouth than sausages is motherfucking moist melon! I have to go to a happy place right now....

HAPPY PLACE
EXT. Jake Gyllenhaal's Oceanside Villa in Italy.

It is a perfect beach day. The weather is completely temperate with a slight breeze coming in from the west. I am sitting on the sun deck writing a third screenplay on my Apple Mac-Mini. Maggie Gyllenhall and Peter Sargaard bring out a delightful tray of baked breads, jams, jellies, cheesey scrambled eggs, tabasco sauce and fresh squeezed papaya juice. They sit with me and comment on 18th century Italian architecture and the merits of the heavily anticipated, newly released sophmore CD by The Postal Service. I say "It might be nice to invite Johnny Depp over for cocktails tonight".

Jake enters from the archway and tip toes up behind me. Maggie see this but does not let on that I am about to get the pee scared out of me. He is dressed in an almost tight white t-shirt and plaid drawstring pajama bottoms. Jake covers my eyes from behind and giggles in a manly way. "Guess who?". I respond by reaching up behind him and hugging his neck. A female musician begins playing the cello in the street below.

OK. OK. OK. That was nice. The Great Pit of Carkoon has closed. The Sarlacc is done feasting. Seriously, who eats sausages and cantaloupe for lunch? Back to work.

I can't believe I just made a Retrun of the Jedi referrence.