Friday, May 21, 2004

I totally have the giggles today. Sitting in front of my computer. Attempting to polish up the end of the second act. Giggles. There has GOT to be some sort of hallucinogenic seeping into my bedroom. (T$ will correct me on my choice of drug terminology. Forgive me. I am not up on the drugs. Kids these days.) It must be coming through the hole in my ceiling. I've always claimed that hole to be the breathing hole for the dead bodies in the attic. "But dead bodies don't need a breathing hole," you might add. In this house, they do. The Attic Corpses breathe. The Bird Abortions flutter in the air. The Big Fu*&%ing Spiders sink their drippy teeth into your temples whilst you sleep. (According to Tamara, there's also a dirty whore's vagina in the fridge, but I've been too afraid to check that one out.) Sometimes, for no reason at all, T$ will do an almost-perfect British accent and sing the "You are a fu&%ing cu*t" song a la the xylophone we found on the web last month. This causes me to double over in pain. Something else we're quoting from another website - THIS WEEK ON "ER"....AN EPISODE THAT WILL MAKE YOU SHIT YOUR PANTS. IT'S SO GOOD, THAT THE SHIT WILL BLOW OUT OF YOUR PANTS AND ONTO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S PANTS. THAT'S RIGHT, YOU WILL SHIT YOUR BEST FRIEND'S PANTS! This makes me go into convulsions and weep.

Life is Good.



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