September 7, 2001

pushed to the brink by grapes

My car has a flat tire. I keep forgetting to do things like turn off the toaster oven and go to hypnotists. I laughed Doritos up my nose. My rainfly leaks, which really sounds like a personal problem. My email program sends people cryptic, scrambled messages. I’m covered with fly bites and poison ivy. Some grapes pushed me down the stairs. I’m sweaty.

I am a complete and utter mess.

And I am in such a good mood! I’m doin’ the Statesman write-up to get all the youngens to go to the All Mighty Senators show, which is gonna rock! It’s Friday, glorious Friday. I finished the Top Secret Wooch! Recruitment Materials, or TSM!RM as we like to call it to keep it secret. Try sayin’ THAT with a mouthful of crackers:

“Tee Ehss Imm Eschqualmah-damn, look at the mess I made.”

I’m goin’ to Peter Meyer. It looks like I’m gonna catch another fly on which I can perform shocking scientific experiments.

If you’ve got a fresh booty say ‘I do’

[I do]