I wish I could actually play drums. Or Country music. I wish I could write and play country. I need a folklift. A little known elective surgery where one's folk-ness and down-home appeal are augmented though the addition of a pearl-snap sutured on for 6-8 weeks. I would go into greater detail but I think I was just recently demoted to nurse from Jamie Granite M.D. Assholes.
I don't know why I'm posting anything right now I have nothing to say. I'm so bored I'll rant online. Probably better this way... Lena can't make fun of me directly. She'll post a comment making fun of me as soon as she reads it, which gives me a couple of days. Thank goodness for that.
but where WERE the spiders?
try saying shrimp shack 5 times fast. SHRIMP SHACK SHRIMP SHACK SHIRPMA SHACK SHIRPMA SHCAK SHRIPM SHACK. dammit.
ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK!
blah.
1 comment:
You're so smart. It's exactly 2 (or 3 I guess) days later! I'm supposed to be at the party you're at right now, but I'm just about the most diligent scientist you'll meet (see most recent post in my blog). I aim to take an hour long break at 1am! I hope yeast can soak in parafomaldahyde for a bit longer than an hour!
I also wish I had a forklift, too. The spiders whose whereabouts you ponder are underneath the light on our porch! They catch the moths outside our house! Sometimes they dress up in little leotards and have little pretend concerts and play little pretend instruments.
I want to LEAVE DANAAa! AAHHHHHHH
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