I can’t sleep.
It is 10:30pm. I’m so tired, and yet I can’t sleep. So I’m writing a pointless journal entry. The reason it is pointless is because I have nothing to say. Nothing is happening. Or at least, it doesn’t seem like anything is happening.
Joe picked up Andy, and took Alex with him. I didn’t go like I usually do, because I have to clean so the house looks semi presentable for sunday dinner. Oh, fun. Tomorrow we grocery shop. More fun.
My life is just fun.
Really..
I’m serious.
Ok, shut up.
Here is a list of searches that show up in my stats that are strange:
coffee mug eleonora sebastiano & vanessa
help locked my keys in my truck
boosh
it sounds like a plan
the worst day in my life
turkey neck not really
amy shake
anal cavity
i was wearing the delivery man door
make him wear
estrov2
off white kitchen wire racks
ravioli the best for me
calendar hover over
racing aimee
Go ahead, do a search on them and see if you can find my site again. Be my guest. You know you want too.
For give me, I get really ..odd.. when I’m tired.
Ok, not odd, just plain fucking multiple personality scary like. And giddy. Yeah, giddy.
More posts like this:
- The dishwasher. – July 15, 2004
- The naked baby. – November 18, 2003
- The one when Aidan locked me out. – November 11, 2007
- Is Dr. Phil on yet? – July 13, 2004
- 10 reasons why I refuse to take down my Christmas tree. – January 3, 2009
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