(no subject)
Shambling around the house with pressurized sinuses is not what I'd like to do on my day off. I woke up at like 3pm today to take a shower and go back to bed, to wake again at 5pm to eat a slab of gristly Papa John's pizza and take a lot of relief pills. Are sinuses directly related to stress, or do I just have the unfortunate luck of dying from intracranial pressure each and every time I have a day off?
My birthday is on the 29th. I will be one year into my third decade on this fart of a planet, and no directional sense to be found yet. I have been working steadily with Sean at Tacone, slinging the best wraps and smoothies anyone's ever tasted. It seems job openings at the top are there to be had, but I have no experience in schmaltzing executive-style, book-balancing, schedule-making, cooking, or any other skill that could benefit the company like that. I am interested in doing all of these, but Nikki seems uneasy about staying in the area long.
I've been smoking cloves recently, and at about the rate of two a day. The brand Djarum Vanilla tastes like a clean paper bag, versus Djarum Cherry tastes morelike a cheap cigar infused with Grenadine. I'm pretty sure these aren't for casual smoking, but they sure beat about the ol' chest-balloons something fierce. I have yet to master driving while smoking, for the winds 'round these parts are voracious enough to warrant wind farming. I have meekly ashed on my forehead purely by accident several times through this manner.
This is fun: Bombay TV.
Got the first Season of The Muppets on DVD from Nikki, and I wish to acknowledge the fact that the genetic advancement of Fozzie, Piggy, and Gonzo worked out for the better. The ones in the first season are soberingly ugly. Can it really be that Kermit is fifty years old? The Muppet Show didn't air until '76, so that's only thirty years, right? Did Kermit just hang around for twenty years before getting a decent job as a producer of a rag-tag Vaudevillan Variety show? How long is a frog lifespan anyways?
My birthday is on the 29th. I will be one year into my third decade on this fart of a planet, and no directional sense to be found yet. I have been working steadily with Sean at Tacone, slinging the best wraps and smoothies anyone's ever tasted. It seems job openings at the top are there to be had, but I have no experience in schmaltzing executive-style, book-balancing, schedule-making, cooking, or any other skill that could benefit the company like that. I am interested in doing all of these, but Nikki seems uneasy about staying in the area long.
I've been smoking cloves recently, and at about the rate of two a day. The brand Djarum Vanilla tastes like a clean paper bag, versus Djarum Cherry tastes morelike a cheap cigar infused with Grenadine. I'm pretty sure these aren't for casual smoking, but they sure beat about the ol' chest-balloons something fierce. I have yet to master driving while smoking, for the winds 'round these parts are voracious enough to warrant wind farming. I have meekly ashed on my forehead purely by accident several times through this manner.
This is fun: Bombay TV.
Got the first Season of The Muppets on DVD from Nikki, and I wish to acknowledge the fact that the genetic advancement of Fozzie, Piggy, and Gonzo worked out for the better. The ones in the first season are soberingly ugly. Can it really be that Kermit is fifty years old? The Muppet Show didn't air until '76, so that's only thirty years, right? Did Kermit just hang around for twenty years before getting a decent job as a producer of a rag-tag Vaudevillan Variety show? How long is a frog lifespan anyways?