I am 12

Last night, while extracting this week's most fabulous quote from Miss Julie, we discussed the concept of the Head Table at a wedding.

We agreed that being a member of the wedding (and not in the Carson McCullers sense) would be made much sweeter if one were promised a seat at the "Head" table, where the person of your choice could hunker down under the table cloth and give you a little bridesmaids' gift, if you know what I mean.

She wrote me a lovely song that she will sing at my wedding. I won't publish it here since I forgot to ask permission and I want it to be a surprise (preview: "...shit tied with a bow") but I promised her that she'd be seated at the "Head" table at my wedding.

If I have a wedding.

She asked me if I was magnetizing the right boy to me.

I told her that I think my poles are pointing in the wrong direction.

Wasn't until today that I realized that's as dirty as a "head" table.

I talk dirty without even knowing it, I'm a CATCH, what's wrong with these boys?