It's 1243 am.
Rajesh's back.
Went for the obligatory Sunday Holland V dinner outing.
Wasted the day otherwise.
My banana chips are
soggy, possibly precluding ant-attacks.
I'm listening to
Black.
I need cough syrup.
A Monday's approaching; I can feel its slings and arrows.
Sunday's perfect for some weed, just perfect.
My phone needs charging; let it beg.
Took a shower. With soap. Hair oil. Water. The works.
Status quo. All in rooms/room etc. Satchit at work. I'm with music. Ta nana nana na.
Air-conditioning is fantastic but it can seriously injure my throat.
Eddie Vedder redefines angst each time he sings or I hear him sing.
I'm actually terrified of laundry. With or without you is perfect for it.
As Frampton often said, "Wah wah wah woa wiau whoo wah".
I should stop smoking. They say dying of lung cancer can
seriously damage my health.
With a good system/Bose speakers/at least a decent comp, I could be blaring Hendrix.
I need to be more sociable. Even my hair has left.
If I stretch hard enough, I can regret it.
Can I sleep with someone to get a job at a good bank? Maybe it'll work as a threat.
If only I could keep reading..you'd have been spared from reading this.
My halo needs adjusting.
Shake yo bon bon.
God could silence all atheists by making huge deposits in everybody else's accounts.
Except Lucifer's of course. He has our taxes.
It's past 1 am. If you're still up, I can write more. Anybody? No? Tough crowd.
I know. This should have been on my personal blog.
