Entirely random:
Nikki McKibbon. I hate her name. She cannot win American Idols (aside from the fact that she’s terribly off key) for that reason.
It reminds me of Kimmie Gibbler from Full House.
Disturbed by my caffeine dependence at the courthouse earlier this week, I have cut back on caffeine. Yesterday, I only had one Diet Coke with lunch.
Today’. Nothing. Nothing but water. Yeah. I can hardly believe it either.
You know, no matter how much water you drink, it still does not contain the caffeine of one freaking Diet Coke. I don’t really know what I expected. I started taking naps in the bathroom because I had to pee so frequently. It’s a good thing that I have a half day tomorrow, or I’d have to bring a pillow. Or a catheter.
I had to go home and change my pants today at lunch. No. I didn’t pee in them. Cripes. My pants were so baggy that I felt like a clown. I kept expecting someone to say ‘Please Hammer Don’t Hurt Em’ and I’d have to break into this wiggy wiggy dance groove to a riff from ‘Superfreak’ or something.
Does anyone get nostalgic for ‘You Can’t Touch This’? Or hasn’t the Overplayed half-life passed for that one yet?
I went home and put on my too small jeans. Yeah. That was a stupid move. No caffeine and I can’t breathe.
Proof that girls are dumb. Right there. In case there was any question in your mind, there it is.
I bought a bike on Sunday. And a gel seat and a helmet and a lock.
I can’t get my ass out of bed to ride the thing.
Esteban and I went to dinner with Roadie Pig and his family, including his son, Codeman and wife Lease. It was really lovely. We went to Los Banditos, which is one of my favorite restaurants in town. I hope they liked it. We had a lovely time. They are so enjoyable and I wished that they lived closer to us. Esteban was his normal verbose self and probably hogged the conversation. I was pretty subdued, due to a lack of caffeine today. Esteban and I had planned on grabbing the check but Roadie was too damned quick and bought us dinner. Such a scoundrel. And then he gave me jam, including two versions of cherry. I think one was his $18 a quart variety. I’m so honored. He knows the way to my heart.
Codeman tod me some disturbing news. Apparently, he set up a link on a school computer to this site with only “Read This” as the icon’s name.
While I’m enormously flattered, let me say this to any teenagers in the Decatur school district who might be reading:
Stop. Your parents would be very upset to know that you were reading this and they might want to kick my ass or something if they read the porn store entry. In general, I use bad words. Probably not as many as you hear in the hallways at school, but seriously, kids, Weetabix is a bad role model. She’s been known to lick pictures of Donnie Osmond. And then there’s the rampant alcohol usage at a certain bar. All very bad. So just stop reading and go watch some PBS. The Frontier House is very good. And wear sunscreen. Not the hivey kind though. I’d recommend Coppertone Waterbabies. And don’t squeeze your zits because you’ll get scars for like, eternity. And when the quarterback promises you that it won’t hurt and he’ll stop right before, don’t believe him. And brush your teeth.
Stop. Hammer Time.
You know what I wish? I wish that Pamie would update every time I pressed the refresh button, so I wouldn’t have to wait for her updates. I’d just sit there, pressing refresh like crazy, like those little monkeys that they award with random pellets and I’d have this entire weird surge of power when I’d think of her chained to her keyboard, writing for me, only FOR ME!!!!
And you know what else I wish? That I had a nice big hot plate of swedish pancakes with lingonberries on them. And a glass of ice cold skim milk.
It’s not getting what you want, it’s getting what you want RIGHT NOW!!!
Esteban: Can you look at this thing on my back?
Weetabix: (sleeping, face down into the pillow) Oh, this can’t be good. I’m sleeping.
Esteban: No. Seriously, hon, look.
Weetabix: Where?
Esteban: Where I’m pointing.
Weetabix: I think that’s some skin. Yes. Definitely skin.
Esteban: HERE! It is not. It’s a bump.
Weetabix: It’s a bump of skin. A skin bump. That’s going around. It’s the West Nile Skin Bump. Let me sleep.
Esteban: No. Look.
Weetabix: Ok, come down here.
Esteban: Nevermind.
Weetabix: What? Don’t you want me to look at your bump?
Esteban: If I sit down on the bed, I’ll poop on you.
Weetabix: Bwahahahaha!
Esteban: (trudging off to the bathroom) What? I’m honest.
