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Intro:
So, I see that "Your mama" has insisted on a new post. I suppose you are right. One is needed. Apparently I take orders well because I'm doing the posting thing. Or maybe I just like being told what to do...ordered around...tied to the bed...spanked. Sorry. Got distracted. On a totally different note, having nothing to do with last night, I must inform you now that I don't really have anything in particular to write about today. There! That is my disclaimer, and if you don't like this post, go fuck yourselves!
The update on my insane life:
A new semester brings new classes and 7:30's five days a week, including two power hours. As much as I love school...yeah right...I'm having a hard time getting up for my 7:30's every day. Hell, I have a hard time getting up for my 1:30. I don't really need any of these classes. I just wanted to take something so I have a reason not to move home until August when I transfer back to IUPUI, again, for dental hygiene school. I've sent my application. Wish me luck!
I have a boyfriend, Joe. We dated briefly a year ago, and happened to hook up again on New Years. He's awesome, for a crazy 27 year old who acts like he's 16, but he's mine. I won't bore you with the details there.
I've done some web surfing lately:
Strangely, I envision Phil looking like this when he is 45.
Perhaps the church should hire someone with an English degree to explain how objects and modifiers work.
On to bigger and better things:
Yes, I had one too many cranberry and vodka's a couple of Fridays ago...or was it vodka and cranberries? Well, it explains the red tongue, doesn't it? And, yes, Emily does have blue hair, and yes it grows that color.
I'm out of stuff to write. I'm having a serious creativity block. Forgive me. And now, your moment of zen (This one's for you, Andre): 
The rest of you, shut up. I like it...and at least it isn't nude.
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