So I just realized that my latest blog from approximately 2 weeks ago was marked as private. Forgive me, 12 loyal readers and countless other lurchers.
So as the year is coming to a close, I will not commemmorate all the dead people who died in 2008. I will not talk about my new year’s resolutions. I will not talk about the top ten baby names of 2008. But I will, however, talk about my least favourite things from 2008, in no particular order. (more…)
So I’ve got this idea: They should have ride-on vacuum cleaners. Like the lawn mowers, you know. I wonder why they don’t. It would make cleaning much more exciting, making my house much more clean.
So for those who don’t know, I moved. Relocated, if you will. Instead of ye olde Nashville, I now live in the crotch of middle Tennessee, Murfreesboro. I just a.) didn’t want to live in a dorm again, and b.) didn’t want to commute from Nashville every day like Matt has done for the past 3 years. So Matthew, Gabe, and I have joined forces and are renting an apartment, Three’s Company style. Except I’m doing one of them (more…)
So Terrance trimmed and thinned my hair the other day. I saved all the remnants from the thinning and formed them into a huge ball. I did this for the birds, you know. They like using our hair to make nests. Especially pretty orange hair. Anywho, this is the ball:
So I can’t freaking believe this shit. I’m missing Dr. Phil because I can’t work the damn damn television.
Edit: Matt helped me figure it out. Too bad I missed the good half of it. Anyway, tomorrow is anorexics. Should bring back funtime memories. Mammories. Should make me feel very good or very bad about self.
So I just googled mondaybear, and this is what I found:
One of those stupid myspace glitter graphics comments things.
But at least now people can spread the good word, right?
Is it sacrelig that I called mondaybear.com “the good word?”
So I just woke up from this dream where there were several kitties asleep in a box. They were all about 5 inches long, and I was the same size, sleeping with them.
So when the Chili Peppers came to Nashville, I got to go. I also got to go backstage.
Man, anytime I’m going to blog, I’ve got to poop.
“How you gonna make somethin’, and then it’s gonna burn?”
- Mary
So I really don’t like changing in bathrooms. This is because I’m afraid that my underwear, or other clothing items, will fall into the toilet.
When I was 7 years old, I was staying at my papa’s house. They usually have about 20 people over there, with one bathroom and one bedroom. (They live in Hornbeak). So I’m changing in the bathroom with my underwear sitting on the back of the toilet, and next thing I know, they’re in the toilet.
Now I’ve always been picky about people putting the toilet lid down before flushing (you guys have all seen that science experiment with the blacklight.), so there was no reason for that lid to be up. I -always- put it down.
So anywho, I cried, and I made my aunt Georgia come fish them out of the toilet, and I didn’t get to wear underwear that day.
It’s a rational fear.
So I was going to blog yesterday, but I was distracted. I was all set. I had a Diet Coke and a bag of popcorn, and I was in the mood for bloggin’. Then the phone rings. Of course, it’s for my mom, who is at her friend’s house. That’s okay though, because I’m still in blog mode. So I head to the computer… “Wait, where’s my coke?… I must have set it down to look at the caller I.D….Crap.” I had no idea where it was. I searched around the house for (I crap you not) at least 30 minutes looking for my coke.
I looked on every table.
I looked in the fridge.
I looked in the microwave.
I looked by the computer.
Finally, I check in the garbage can, and sure enough, there it is. Of course I didn’t take it out and drink the rest. What do you think I am, gross or something?
So I was ultra bummed about my loss of beverage and failed to blog.
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So I had this dream a long time ago, probably the day after I last blogged. I’ve had many a lesbonic dream in my day, but this one wasn’t even sexual. This woman asked me to marry her. She wasn’t an ugly dyke or anything, but just very lesbonic. Kind of like me a year ago. Except I didn’t like girls. And I still don’t.
But at any rate, this chick proposed to me, and of course I said no, because:
