Eagle. Then Penis.

Third day in new apartment. I'm supposed to be nesting but I don't wanna. I've unpacked enough that I can go to work without looking like I belong in a methadone queue but no so much that I have to stop using paper plates and start doing dishes.

Partially broke up with shrink today. I'm going to go every other week instead of weekly. This is good. I'm out of stuff to talk about. The big problems have gotten better and now it's just disjointed bitching.

Rush hour yesterday there was a penis show on the F train. I was sitting across from this guy and happened to glance at his crotch (AS IS MY RIGHT AS AN AMERICAN CITIZEN) and there was his hard-on, peeping out of his shorts. Denim shorts. Long denim shorts. BERMUDAS. Ugh.

He had a newspaper held up in front of him all straight-backed and proper, like he was the guy in the comic strip on the crapper or something.

When he saw I saw he just gave this grody pedersmile and I knew it wasn't like when Grant Robinson sat across from me in French II and was wearing boxers with Umbros and I saw his balls and they were red and had long blonde hairs and I told him I could see his balls because I wanted to embarass him because he was a popular dickhead who always teased fat girls. This was on purpose.

I moved to the other end of the car and got off at the next stop. I wanted to say something to the other passengers like "OMG. Did you just see the penis show?!" but I figured that's what Penis Show wanted so why give it to him.

Whoa. I just had a bad thought. It's been a while since I've had sex. Penis Show technically counts as the last wang I've seen in person. I need to go somewhere and look at wangs. Cleansing wangs. A lot of them.