"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


Posting for the Hell of It

Zoolander is funny. When you're drunk. And I was.

The first portion of spring break was a flurry of work-related activity, but now I'm chillin' out, maxin', relaxin', and coolin' in K-town. I've been fighting off a hangover induced by equal parts burger nite and Sassy Ann's, so I can fully say I had at least one traditional Spring Break day. No beach or flashing my tits, though. Sorry to disappoint.

I just checked the tracking number, and my new baby camera is sitting all alone in the dark, scary receiving office at Crafttown. I'm fighting the urge to hop in my car, and make the two-hour journey to rescue it. I've been having one last blast with the old 35 mm before sending it off to retirement. It sucks, and it won't be missed. I hope you weren't getting used to these texted posts, because I get the feeling you're going to be looking at a lot of close-up artsy shots of sponges soon.

Girls who wear glasses, and are so into the book they're reading that they haven't caught me staring at them yet, are hot. At least the one sitting a few tables away from me is. I have no further comment on that subject.

I think they need to begin teaching cellphone etiquette in the schools. The guy next to me has decided that now, in the middle of a crowded coffee house, is the perfect time to try out every single ringtone on his phone. Good job, guy.

So, that's the weather report from my humble corner. Tomorrow, what I'm wearing and eating.

Listening to:
Cappucino Rush Hour