I just rattled off all of John Irvingís novels in order of publication to techdoof Jason. Sometimes I amaze myself by the crap my brain retains.
Reading the archives over at spacealien has proven to be an amusing way to waste the afternoon away.
Cleaning off my desk proved to amusing for all of 3 minutes. At least I gathered the 3 cans of grapefruit juice, 3 cans of orange juice and 2 diet pepsis and promptly deposited them in the recycling bin.
my stomach is rumbling with alarming volume and regularity. Skipping meals is not a good idea at all.
I was gonna write about that time in 8th grade when I had to write about dan peck and his pet pig and the other kids in english class made fun of me because I wrote it so well. Because really now, I think I am stephen king and the world deserves to have something by jodi chromey on writing. But really, I am just a hack with a nice pen and a decent vocabulary.
Did you ever go through that stage in like 6th grade when it was cool to wear copenhagen painterís caps and say decent a lot? I did. I didnít have a copenhagen hat, though I longed for one. I had a doofy painterís cap with my name on it. My parentís took us to the shrine circus on year and I was wearing that doofy cap. The clown called me by my name and it terrified me. The family all laughed at me, because I was generally freaked out by the psychic clown. i was still freaked out even after they pointed out that my name was on my hat. i didn’t wear that damn hat after that. in fact, i think i just threw it out a few months ago.