in my junk mail folder today i found a message with a subject that i thought read "she said you were the shit in bed" but it actually said "she said you were shit in bed". talk about getting your hopes up and then taking the rug out. and who is this "she" anyway....now i'm wrought with anxiety (moreso than usual).
my cat threw up this afternoon and i had to clean it. that was the highlight of my day. that, and i tried to go walking about half an hour ago but the pitt bulls that cletus and zeke and ethlene and scout (and why not, jem) keep on the corner of our block (tied to the their refrigerator) sounded a bit more awn-ry than usual so that was the end of that. of course i told my aunt that i had a really manly injury (which i somehow sustained while walking...) and just couldn't persist. and yet odd it is that i feel okay sharing it on my blog with my nearest and dearest. i gave up on pride long ago, as anyone who knows me will attest (i guess except my aunt).
also, being monday night i realized that we are now fully into football season and i am proud to say that i have not watched a single minute. i deduced that the only reason i became enamoured with football last year was because i enjoyed watching all the people having such a goot time and tried to live vicariously through them. either that or all the pretty colors. regardless, i'm making small stabs at self-improvement (i'm the tim allen of self-improvement, only i have less of an idea as to what i'm doing).
album of the day: kenickie the john peel sessions
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