2007-08-20
talk nonsense
If you've ever watched the Oprah show (or read Oprah magazine, or seen an interview with Oprah, or even looked really hard at a picture of Oprah) you'll know all about the drug crisis in the country that has housewives downing narcotics like Skittles. But you don't need to worry that I'll succumb to that, partially because I'd be burned alive before I became a "housewife", but mostly because it turns out that all narcotics do for me is make me really sleepy and sad. However, if you or someone you care about is dealing with a n addiction please let them know that there is help, in the form of Rori Costello and her 3/4 of a Vicodin prescription that is sitting unused and available to the highest bidder. I'll take credit card, paypal, or gold bricks. Mother's day will be here sooner than you know!
Drifting out my drugged stupor, and then my near-death on Prairie Center Drive experience stupor, I was feeling a little down. After taking an epic nap, I headed down to K-Jo's to look at old pictures and talk nonsense for a few hours. She is my general first choice of partner in rambling because unlike 90% of the world she does not go through the day completely on autopilot, and therefore has observations to share besides what's up with Lindsey Lohan these days. I have noticed certain things over the years as well, but not a lot I wish to share with the general public for fear of looking foolish/deranged/otherwise. I count myself lucky to have a few friends who get my wavelength when I'm talking crazy.
I also count myself lucky to have a full box of Count Chocula waiting for me downstairs. And more importantly, the renewed dental strength to chew it.
Over and out, space cadets.
zebrasaur at 9:23 a.m.
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