Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was staying at some pool house, and I was possessed, only not by a demon. By, like, ecstasy or some shit. And I had the largest pubic mound ever. Ever, people. It was freaking HUGE. It was elephantitis of the mound. It was "I-need-two-hands-to-hold-this-bitch-up" big. And all I wanted to do was go swimming.
Last night, I dreamed I was sitting at one of the bars downtown, hanging out with Matt's mother and some other people I didn't know, and I decided to go get a bikini wax, which, apparently, they did in the bathroom of the bar.
Note to self: no more fudge before bedtime.
I went Christmas shopping at Wal-Mart with Casey, some time around 1 this morning. I ran into my former roommate, Shelly. Not Shelley, mind you. Shelly. No "e".
The girl has seriously dropped out of 4 (FOUR) colleges and is now hoping to move to Virginia Beach with some guy she's seeing. And I never know what to do in those situations, aside from smile and nod and say things like, "Hey, that's awesome."
More like Hey, I'm really impressed that you're looking towards having your fifth freshman year at the age of 24. You are great. I'm so glad that the federal government is paying for people like you. Rock on. Also, how on earth do YOU always have a boyfriend and I am perpetually single?
I stand by my assertion that educated women intimidate men.
So, whop-de-do. They caught Santa Hussein. You know what I want to know? Did they find the weapons? Was Saddam chillin' in the foxhole spooning a torpedo? I highly doubt it.
I'm now terrified that this will basically lock the man in as prez for yet another four years. We are moving backwards, people.
Don't get me wrong. I think the man is a monster. But, why couldn't they just be honest about the whole thing. I mean, first they wanted to go after him cause they were convinced he had something to do with 9/11. Um, yeah, here's a group from Afghanistan who terrorized us. I know, let's get IRAQ!
Huh?
Then, it was about the weapons thing. Except that it wasn't. Because I know, and you know, and the whole goddamn world knows that W. wants to finish something his daddy started.
Because the model train set was apparently too daunting a task for the family...let's bomb the hell out of some innocent civilians.
God, I want to sit that man down. I want to talk to him about what freedom really means. I want to teach him that money, priveledge, and connections might do a lot in this life, but they probably don't mean shit in the next. St. Peter probably doesn't care WHO you know.
Maybe I'll climb off of my soapbox now. I kind of like the view from up here.
Fin.
My apologies and a farewell??? - 2005-10-20
It should be Friday somewhere. - 2005-10-03
It's Friday again! - 2005-10-01
Amendment to previous entry... - 2005-09-26
Longer than I intended. It's to tide you over for another week. - 2005-09-23