2002-01-09 | 7:57 p.m.

corduroy licorice liked to strike when the iron was hot. he hated ironing his clothes, so would stage a sit out whenever his mom assigned him that chore.

***

i almost checked out in the style of mama cass yesterday. i took a big ole bite of my chicken sandwich and underestimated the food morsel-to-throat radius ratio. i could feel the sandwich lump lodge in my neck and could feel my eyes bug out a l� a cartoony "uh-oh, what did i done do?" expression. i stayed calm and concentrated on the patented motion of swallowing. fortunately, the mass made its way down my gullet without much ado. whew! glad to be still here, folks. that's all i gotta say about that. i didn't want to buy it due to a mischewed $4.95 meal, yo.

***

last night i attended my first comedy improv class in almost a year. i was scared shitless, let me tell you. first of all, i'm feeling rusty about the old thinking-on-my-feet techniques. secondly, i was in a class with a whole new group of strangers. double stress whammy.

i considered how badly i'd feel about wasting my tuition by running from the room and never showing up again. fortunately, i grew a pair and stayed and had a good, if sweaty-palmed, time and remembered why i'd missed it so much. don't get me wrong, it's as scary as hell, but as fun as hell, too.

***

it's almost time again for my bimonthly booty call musings. i have a possibility on the horizon, but as much as i like to think about the spontaneous, no-strings passion inherent in such an act...i just can't see myself in those boots made for knockin'. too bad. maybe i'll be a bad girl in my next life. (although my friend l-girl gave me a "guide to being a bad girl" book recently. you never know what reading it could inspire. 2002 may welcome a whole new non-knickered nictate.)

***

january 10 is tv zero's birth anniversary, so please feel free to give the boy his due props. happy birthday, j!

<----������� ---->