Hello again.
my old friend
Sweet silent Saturday. I like. When there's nothing to do and plenty of time to not do it.

Mama made soup:
what's cooking?

It may look nauseating but the end result is good. Sort of like the winter olympics haha.

And then suddenly some form of melloncollie washed over me. The fear of going blind. The pain of being loved. Diabetes and girlfriends. Ride tonight on ghost horses. Decisions to make. Destiny awaits.

Maybe I'll get drunk someday. On cherry beer and strawberry wine. Maybe I will see your eyes looking at me and it won't hurt. Siamese twins at the wrists.
time heals
Maybe if I just go to bed it'll all disappear. I read somewhere in a thread some place that you can't dream if you only sleep for 1 or 2 hours. Because you don't go into deep r.e.m. sleep. Hey, kids nobody tells you what to do.. That's not true. I dream all the time when I nap. Maybe it's because I screw up my sleeping patterns or something. I don't know. But usually when I take a nap because I'm tired from work or tired of life or whatever then I do dream. And do remember it. And I like the feeling of lying in bed just woken up with all the memories of the dreams still lingering. It's always so much better. But then life starts kicking you around and you lose the dream, you can feel the memory fading.

What was the point? I don't know. I like sleeping. I feel like crying now. Hmm. So very sad.
so very sad about us
This is something I could've written. But luckily I didn't so no copyright lawsuits coming my way.

And it's not all bad. What with all the sexy girls around. Like my darling Skye and the Katie Holmesy Jenn. Hot stuff. If I win a million dollars then I'm buying webcams for all the pretty ladies. I'm selfish like that. Dland. Diaryland. Datingland. Whatever.

And apparently I'm J'amie which is nice I guess. Oh and Cat dear... If you don't turn flood control off on your guestbook I will kill you. Literally. I mean it. That's not paranoid rambling or a light hearted joke. It's a serious threat that could get me sent to prison if you alert the FBI.

Tomorrow is Sunday. Which isn't that bad. Except that on Sundays tomorrow will be Monday which really sucks. So even if it doesn't suck that tomorrow is Sunday it still sucks a little by proxy. There I go forgetting my point again.
oink must die
And the answer to yesterday's cliffhanger: Mike, with a spoon. In the coffee shop.

Also I've decided that I'm probably not going to be a fan of Nickelback. I downloaded the cd and it didn't grip. Maybe if I'd listened more. It just lacked emotion or something. But I still can't shake Poprock Hit #1. Somehow I like it. Or else Christina Millian has just broken my mind and I'm now a slave to the mtv's that be.
now I'm one of you
And that's enough of that stuff.