"Perhaps Vampires is a Bit Strong But..."
Ah, the sun's up. I guess that means I should get to bed.
You know what's just about as good as a drunk Carl? A Carl that's awake way too late at night with nothing to do but is not at all sleepy. Man, I get giddy and loud and laugh boisterously at all the infomercials. And those not-as-good Food Network shows that they only air this late at night. I think I just may be going crazy, needing to converse verbally with myself and the television.
Shit, man, at this hour, Janel should be getting back or is back already from her crazy 12+ hour graveyard shift at the hospital. Wait! I heard someone come into the apartment just now!
Watch this segueway...
So let's take this rare occasion of me actually talking about someone else and call someone out in "public." Over the years I've known Janel I've discovered a few things. One, she doesn't believe in ghosts. And I always rag on her about this. No, that mysteriously out of place restroom by Academic Village can't possibly hide monsters or ghosts, since they aren't real; however serial murders are totally within the realm of likelyhood. Two, she doesn't seem to believe in love or magic or any of that intangible stuff and yet is still a whiny emotional girl about it. That and seemingly everything else in her life. I think she has more religious faith than me, so I don't really understand this disbelief of other concepts that seemingly the entirety of the rest of the world is sold on. So three, as I mentioned before, she's taking on these long graveyard hours at the hospital to work and also is eager about working during holidays for the bonus pay.
So what's really should be her perfect movie? Just Like Heaven! It's got a workaholic girl who's life is her job in the hospital (to the detriment of her social/love life) and doesn't believe in ghosts! Bwahahahahaa! Brilliant!
Anyway, sorry, Janel, that you're my victim in this post. Maybe if I hung around with the old gang all the time, it'd be one of them. Most likely Chris. Don't deny it. But, alas, I live with you with no one else to provide me with fodder. I look forward to some sort of angry lecture whenever I finally wake up and stumble out of my room. That or tears. (Please not the latter...)
You know what's just about as good as a drunk Carl? A Carl that's awake way too late at night with nothing to do but is not at all sleepy. Man, I get giddy and loud and laugh boisterously at all the infomercials. And those not-as-good Food Network shows that they only air this late at night. I think I just may be going crazy, needing to converse verbally with myself and the television.
Shit, man, at this hour, Janel should be getting back or is back already from her crazy 12+ hour graveyard shift at the hospital. Wait! I heard someone come into the apartment just now!
Watch this segueway...
So let's take this rare occasion of me actually talking about someone else and call someone out in "public." Over the years I've known Janel I've discovered a few things. One, she doesn't believe in ghosts. And I always rag on her about this. No, that mysteriously out of place restroom by Academic Village can't possibly hide monsters or ghosts, since they aren't real; however serial murders are totally within the realm of likelyhood. Two, she doesn't seem to believe in love or magic or any of that intangible stuff and yet is still a whiny emotional girl about it. That and seemingly everything else in her life. I think she has more religious faith than me, so I don't really understand this disbelief of other concepts that seemingly the entirety of the rest of the world is sold on. So three, as I mentioned before, she's taking on these long graveyard hours at the hospital to work and also is eager about working during holidays for the bonus pay.
So what's really should be her perfect movie? Just Like Heaven! It's got a workaholic girl who's life is her job in the hospital (to the detriment of her social/love life) and doesn't believe in ghosts! Bwahahahahaa! Brilliant!
Anyway, sorry, Janel, that you're my victim in this post. Maybe if I hung around with the old gang all the time, it'd be one of them. Most likely Chris. Don't deny it. But, alas, I live with you with no one else to provide me with fodder. I look forward to some sort of angry lecture whenever I finally wake up and stumble out of my room. That or tears. (Please not the latter...)