game over

It just doesn't get much more boring than this. Today was better off not happening, it was that void of interest. It went something like this.

I got so little sleep last night that when I dragged myself out of bed, I felt like throwing up on one of the cats. Which wouldn't have been good, considering there wasn't any food in my stomach to rid myself of. And cats aren't very appreciative of that sort of thing.

During the routine shower (yes, you read correctly: in between my rabid entry-spawning, I, surprisingly, manage to bathe), I got an excerpt from that godforsaken Coast Guard jingle in my head: 'Coast Guard: jobs that matter.'

Bah, damnit, I muttered to myself, disgusted that I couldn't escape the excessive repititions of such a weak and unworthy jingle. Why didn't they just say, 'Coast Guard: jobs that matter -- just in case you don't'? Why? WHY?!

After much apathy and manipulation on the part of my loving mother, I was allowed to stay home and sleep in till noon. I notice that's six additional hours of sleep, after performing some arithmetic.

But you know what really pisses me off? Lately I've had this desperate craving for lemonade, and, vaguely recalling my mom saying something about having some, I ambled over to the fridge. Despite my careful searching, I couldn't find a bottle or carton of the said lemonade. And then -- oh God, it pains me to say it. And then, there, behind the grapefruit juice, I saw it -- lemonade concentrate! I immediately slammed the refrigerator door shut. No. No, making lemonade from concentrate, that takes effort! Say it isn't so!

Oh, wait. According to my mom, it's used for cooking. Not for drinking.

Never mind. Damn, it's been a long day. And I haven't even done anything.

Leave me a note and give the day some purpose, yes? I'll love you if you do. And if perhaps I already do love you, I'll love you more. Hint hint.

And speaking of love, I decided not to give my beautiful, inspirational ballad dripping with meaning and love its own entry. So, with that said, here it is (courtesy of Fuali):

"FWAT-ISH PAT"
by KATE

My FWAT-ISH PAT
FOOLISH MIDAFTERNOON is the time
Come on, baby
I will SICKENINGLY make you mine

You can't MELT INTO A PUDDLE OF SLUDGE, my love
We are like SEVENTY-THREE BANANA SLUGS in a JAPAN
Oh yeah, honey
We are like SEVENTY-THREE BANANA SLUGS in a JAPAN

CHORUS:

PAT, you are my CHILLY CHIKKIN for sure
If I had OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE SMILEY DISORDER you'd be my cure
The CHALUPA of PODUNKSVILLE can't hold a light
The SHADY night, and everything is alright

Please, baby, don't DANCE FOR HOT CHOCOLATE with my ARM
Don't SURPRISINGLY SPELUNK me today
I love you too much
Please, I just want to see your PRETEND way

I know our KINKY love will last for 13TH-MONTHED YEARS
I will be there for 13TH-MONTHED YEARS
Oh yeah, KOISHII
13TH-MONTHED YEARS, 13TH-MONTHED YEARS, and 13TH-MONTHED YEARS

CHORUS:

PAT, you are my CHILLY CHIKKIN for sure
If I had OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE SMILEY DISORDER you'd be my cure
The CHALUPA of PODUNKSVILLE can't hold a light
The SHADY night, and everything is alright