morning=ass

Tired.
So. Fucking. Tired.

Hate.
So. Much. Hate.

I'm more annoyed/pissed off about some things than I probably should be.
But who cares, eh?

make a little birdhouse in your soul

How lazy and/or incompetent do you have to be?

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"So, whatcha doin' this weekend, Bob?"
"Oh man, I have some sweet-ass necklaces to fasten...like 20 lobster claws and 35 spring rings."
"Bob, how did you get so lucky?"

***

my shoes are tiny and squeaky

Like I'm stepping on shiny, black mice. They're not hurt. They like it. The Masochistic Leather-Mouse of South America...it's rare.

Danielle and I took a long walk for lunch. We went to the post office, to the coffee shop, and then to the bank, making a short stop to meander through the stalls at the small farmer's market that's nearby on Tuesdays. They had blood oranges for $1.50 a lb.

It's over 80 degrees today.
I cannot express, with words, how wrong this is.
Instead, I will perform an interpretive dance...

...

Wow, you're missing out on something very special.

p.s. If you don't like this entry or the fact that I've updated way too much today, you can promptly go straight to hell. They need a heaven/hell, highly sacrilegious version of Monopoly. Maybe I'll make my own. "DOOD, you landed on Messiah Way. HAHAHA, I have 3 churches there...you are so screwed."

****