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maypirateHoly fuck, I never update ever, what the fuck oh fuck we're dead!
That smelled delicious.
In any case, what the hell have I been doing?
Why hasn't Bob called me yet? I wonder if she fell asleep? Hmmm...
LIPSCHUN? IS THERE LIPSCHUN IN THE FUTURE?
And where is my keeboo?
These are questions that will never be answered.
Spent much of last week watching the first season of "Six Feet Under" with Vicky and Don. I conclude that we liked it, but I don't want to see anymore. In fact, after reading some summaries from the future, I would be quite content pretending that it ended after the first season. It pretty much just devolves into everyone's life going to hell and all of them becoming more completely sluttish than they already are.
Sex: Happens too much on TV.
Also: I am not one to celebrate the miracle of birth, also known as the miracle of expulsing disgusting larvae.
I did a fantastic job of trying to emulate Chenya's finger-cutting disasters, but it wasn't quite as cool. In fact it was really lame, especially the part where someone who has never had any trouble with blood was saying "I'm gonna pass out..mom...I'm gonna pass out..." and then maybe doing it. I'm still not sure.
ROASTBONE CHANGED SHELLS!
PORKCHOP SANDWICHES!
I am still failing to call my landlord. Heh heh heh...my mom will NEVER know...
...oops.
I think I want to take my computer to Best Buy and have them screw around with it for a while to help me figure out why I couldn't reinstall Norton and why ICQ disconnects all the time. Maybe that's why Bob hasn't called. She hates me because I can't ever seem to be online or offline. It has to be both or neither.
I missed her.
I miss Chenya.
And Joel, who never happens anymore.
And Jake, who is too busy stealing my boyfriend!
All I ever see is donutsdonutsdonuts. It has further been determined that, at my job, if everyone else was running around setting everything on fire, and I walked in and picked up a box of matches, my boss would say "Amber, why are you burning down the bakery?" Monkeybucket.
Will I make it to California? We may never know.
But I created the most amazing cake for Corin's birthday, and I will have a tea-party soon. Maybe Lipschun will be there?
Also I nearly choked to death on Wasabi last night.
There's nothing like nearly throwing up burning death on your friend's porch that makes you glad to be alive and also want to die. Yeehaw!
That smelled delicious.
In any case, what the hell have I been doing?
Why hasn't Bob called me yet? I wonder if she fell asleep? Hmmm...
LIPSCHUN? IS THERE LIPSCHUN IN THE FUTURE?
And where is my keeboo?
These are questions that will never be answered.
Spent much of last week watching the first season of "Six Feet Under" with Vicky and Don. I conclude that we liked it, but I don't want to see anymore. In fact, after reading some summaries from the future, I would be quite content pretending that it ended after the first season. It pretty much just devolves into everyone's life going to hell and all of them becoming more completely sluttish than they already are.
Sex: Happens too much on TV.
Also: I am not one to celebrate the miracle of birth, also known as the miracle of expulsing disgusting larvae.
I did a fantastic job of trying to emulate Chenya's finger-cutting disasters, but it wasn't quite as cool. In fact it was really lame, especially the part where someone who has never had any trouble with blood was saying "I'm gonna pass out..mom...I'm gonna pass out..." and then maybe doing it. I'm still not sure.
ROASTBONE CHANGED SHELLS!
PORKCHOP SANDWICHES!
I am still failing to call my landlord. Heh heh heh...my mom will NEVER know...
...oops.
I think I want to take my computer to Best Buy and have them screw around with it for a while to help me figure out why I couldn't reinstall Norton and why ICQ disconnects all the time. Maybe that's why Bob hasn't called. She hates me because I can't ever seem to be online or offline. It has to be both or neither.
I missed her.
I miss Chenya.
And Joel, who never happens anymore.
And Jake, who is too busy stealing my boyfriend!
All I ever see is donutsdonutsdonuts. It has further been determined that, at my job, if everyone else was running around setting everything on fire, and I walked in and picked up a box of matches, my boss would say "Amber, why are you burning down the bakery?" Monkeybucket.
Will I make it to California? We may never know.
But I created the most amazing cake for Corin's birthday, and I will have a tea-party soon. Maybe Lipschun will be there?
Also I nearly choked to death on Wasabi last night.
There's nothing like nearly throwing up burning death on your friend's porch that makes you glad to be alive and also want to die. Yeehaw!
