Dumped
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No, no - I'm not talking about Cronkette.
(Although lately she's been been using more and more of the "Remind me again what I'm doing with the debt-plagued wannabe journalist 2000 miles away when I get hit on by doctors on a regular basis" voice when we talk on the phone. Good times.)
Maybe I should post more enlightened references to my Friday morning business seminar, to fool her into thinking I'm capable of making profitable financial investments in the future.
(I won't mention that the professor stops in mid-sentence from time-to-time and just stares at us in awe like we're a bunch of retards.)
No, I'm talking about the maelstrom of white fluffy stuff that's been descending upon us with great vengeance and furious anger. I look out my window and recognize nothing - only a barren plain of pure racist white. A hazy shade of winter.
I desperately need food, yet I fear that leaving my dwelling shall cause me to lose my bearings in the unrecognizable tundra without, doomed to wander this curs'ed land aimlessly until the authorities find me frozen to death like that poor Nebraska couple.
'Hope the crumbs in my pocket can keep me for another night.
Chicago 2005 A.D. Pompeii 79 A.D. Same difference. I'm gonna keep my laptop on power-save so when some future civilization finally excavates this place in 1000 years' time maybe I can provide some clues to what happened here.
Walking home the other night my roommate made an astute observation: "All this water and not a wave to surf. All this [fluffy white stuff] and not a hill in sight." I immediately fell to my knees and cried out to the Lord. "My God, My God, why have you foresaken me?!"
(My roommate's an aetheist.)
Seriously, do people in the Midwest even know what mountains look like? Have they been informed that they exist?
*Sigh* I sure do miss Bertha. I hope she's doing OK without me...
Meanwhile, Cronkette and her friends are back snowboarding in the Sierras (those are "mountains," for any of you midwesterners reading) this weekend. They're probably on their way to the slopes right now as I type.
No, I'm not jealous. Fuck off.
And the battle between my stomach and the weather outside countinues. We'll see who wins.
(Although lately she's been been using more and more of the "Remind me again what I'm doing with the debt-plagued wannabe journalist 2000 miles away when I get hit on by doctors on a regular basis" voice when we talk on the phone. Good times.)
Maybe I should post more enlightened references to my Friday morning business seminar, to fool her into thinking I'm capable of making profitable financial investments in the future.
(I won't mention that the professor stops in mid-sentence from time-to-time and just stares at us in awe like we're a bunch of retards.)
No, I'm talking about the maelstrom of white fluffy stuff that's been descending upon us with great vengeance and furious anger. I look out my window and recognize nothing - only a barren plain of pure racist white. A hazy shade of winter.
I desperately need food, yet I fear that leaving my dwelling shall cause me to lose my bearings in the unrecognizable tundra without, doomed to wander this curs'ed land aimlessly until the authorities find me frozen to death like that poor Nebraska couple.
'Hope the crumbs in my pocket can keep me for another night.
Chicago 2005 A.D. Pompeii 79 A.D. Same difference. I'm gonna keep my laptop on power-save so when some future civilization finally excavates this place in 1000 years' time maybe I can provide some clues to what happened here.
Walking home the other night my roommate made an astute observation: "All this water and not a wave to surf. All this [fluffy white stuff] and not a hill in sight." I immediately fell to my knees and cried out to the Lord. "My God, My God, why have you foresaken me?!"
(My roommate's an aetheist.)
Seriously, do people in the Midwest even know what mountains look like? Have they been informed that they exist?
*Sigh* I sure do miss Bertha. I hope she's doing OK without me...
Meanwhile, Cronkette and her friends are back snowboarding in the Sierras (those are "mountains," for any of you midwesterners reading) this weekend. They're probably on their way to the slopes right now as I type.
No, I'm not jealous. Fuck off.
And the battle between my stomach and the weather outside countinues. We'll see who wins.
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