***Squick Alert***

This morning I woke to the fact that I had apparently murdered a medium sized clown in my bed. That is the only explanation that makes any sense. Because no way that all came from me. I would be *dead* if that all came out of my body.
Between the slightly woozy from blood loss, the pain from the torn something in my back, and the cramps from hell; I can tell that today is going to be a *special* sort of day.

Whoofrockinghoo.

interlude

A friend of mine at work just figured out how to rip a DVD onto his new iThingamabobbie. He chose 300. As he was showing me the tiny little men running about, I had to comment.
Is it wrong that I waited until until he was taking a swallow of his soda to say, “Nothing says “love” quite like leather underpants”?*


* – Coke comes out of cloth, right?

You know you’re old when…

You somehow wrench your lower back driving to work. ::sighs::
There has been Advil and water and stuff. Hopefully, it will soon stop feeling like I whapped it into a bridge abutment.