Sunday

What goes through my brain when I'm hovering in that zone between not-awake yet not-asleep:

Dunkin Donuts is going to be offering "healthier fare." Why? Seriously, why? Does anyone have the conscious thought of "Well, gosh, I'm hungry. I think I'll go to the donut shop for HEALTH FOOD!"? Is anyone really going to be driving down the road and see a Dunkin Donuts sign and make the effort to pull over and walk 15 feet to the door because they're looking for a light lunch?

If I'm going to go to Dunkin Donuts, I want a deep fried, chocolate glazed, airy, sugar laden piece of artery clogging wonder. Going into a donut shop and being served something healthy...that's, like, punishment.

Of all the places on the bed to curl up, why does Buddah have to plop down on my face? And particularly, why does he feel like he has to shove his nads right up near my nose? I think I liked it better when Max was bouncing his head off my boobs.

I need to stop watching "Lockup" before going to bed. Prison dreams are not the fun porn fluff one might suppose. And why am I being locked up with the Gayboy Gangsters? What did I do?

At 2:30 in the morning, the wind blowing outside sounds a lot like footsteps downstairs. We get a lot of wind here; thusly, I freak out a lot at night.

I still need a better background image.

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