||[Feb. 25th, 2004|03:54 pm]
|[||Your mom ain't listening to
|||||Art Official Intelligence - Kick It/Hang High/Whoremonger||]|
I miss having people that I can call up and have lunch with. Breadsticks from Fazoli's will have to fill that hole for now. MMM, FILL MY HOLE WITH BREADSTICK LOVE!!!
Really, it's that sort of a day. Earlier I was working on escape plans, but by time I got them far enough along to be useful, it was too late in the day to make them useful. Only 1 1/2 more hours to go. I can feel my soul being sucked out of me as time slowly creeps by.
Today's horror scopage says that I should attempt to repair rifts in communication. I say that it needs to say that I'm going to find a winning lottery ticket or meet a beautiful woman that makes me want to stay in for a week rather than leave her side. It's a sham, regardless. My destiny is rarely predictable.