(P.S. Aaron, are you in Canada for good yet?)

Anyhooters, last night, the sister and I decided to watch Return of the King on pay-per-view. So naturally, everyone and my mother (meaning: B|/|G fucking music club and my mother) decided to call me. Gah.

I had very strange dreams last night, involving Former Best Friend "Meryl", CD players, needles sticking out of my wrist, macaroni and cheese coming to life, Marilyn Monroe, Denzel Washington, and a trip to Hawaii in which Hawaii looked strangely like a Walmart parking lot in Pennsylvania. Yeah. Don't read Frankenstein before bed, okay?

So should I put up a sign in my friendly neighborhood music store saying I'll teach flute lessons to friendly neighborhood Craptown kids or what? It's not looking like mangofarmer is going to find a jobby-job, unless she goes to work at a factory or goes crawling back to the little grocery store that she worked at pre-Sizz-ears....

I'm picky. I'm also very, very lazy. Bad combination.

So who wants to buy a kidney?

That's all. Happy Wednesday everyone. :)

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