My buddy is going to mass after 15 years of non-preist, non-higher power in the form of sky god love. I have to admit, I am jealous. The idea of being in a confessional booth has me so worked up I might slide right off my chair.
Ooooo. That might have been a bit much, eh? Klonopin kreation, please, like I am going to take responsibility for that.
Now since he has been gone from the Lord for the last 15 years, I can only imagine this disclosure scene as Chunk from The Goonies, sobbing his transgressions to the Fratelli brothers. NMFP = Not My Fucking Problem - Especially when snot is involved. But I do have stakes in this game of Retail Priced Indulgences. In an effort to be my supreme reigning hero for the rest of time and every life I live after, he has assured me doing the truffle shuffle for the clergy is an additional order for the day. Stop. Repeat. This tops owning a penguin, hugging a panda, being able to stick my tongue out at Dick Cheney in person.... this is BIG. HUGE, my friends.
Give me a moment. I'm just very emotional right now.
If I sneeze one more time, brains are gonna fall out.
Today I require the gift of music. Who is my big fat Santa Claus of the Foothills? None other than Vuse, who slips in quietly to steal some presents under the tree, and then place them under mine, just as sneakily. Yesterday I was forced to delete more than 10 GB of music files. A crack pot desktop designer came to visit and since he designs only in Photoshop (puke-o), his 592MB files were crashing my system left and right, over and under; was feeling kinda like I had been sold into sexual slavery, except no one called me whore and stimulation was nonexistent. Boo. Mucho boo. I don't care that this mattress smells like urine but can you at least tell me how hot my ass makes you? Like playing cards with my sisters brothers, nerve racking sons of bitches WHA?
I sneezed again and lost my train of thought.
Fuck it. Must be time to work.