Upside, inside out

Living La Vida Withdrawal!

I never have writers block. Why? Because I never write anything of substance. I am an excellent rambler. You should hear the crap I say to me all day long.

Anyway, it seems that I have made a wee little mistake. See, my prescription for my pills (did you really think I am this pure genius without chemical assistance?) has almost ran out, and being the good little hoarder that I am, I refused to take the last 3 pills, just in case. And now I am switching from Wonder Drug A to Wonder Drug B and I haven't filled Wonder Drug B yet, so I am a bit, well, scattered.

I never realize how much I need Wonder Drug until I stop taking Wonder Drug, and then I start to fidget. Last night, it seems my au naturale mind decided it would be a super great idea to start picking at shit. I am a picker. And now I am a picker with 1/2 a toenail on one toe and that toe has gone from the size of a toe to the size of a bloodied, abused grape over night. A throbbing, bloody, abused grape.

Ouch.

Point is, I don't much think I'm having a coherent thought for the next few days. That makes the blogging the teenciest bit laborious, you know? I decided that this might be a fine time to clean out the drafts that were drafted when I was all clear and drugged and sane.

Here goes:

1. See, I told you. I AM a 12 year old boy.

cash advance

2. Ah, music. Secret Agent Mama hit me with this one a LONG time ago, but my iPod wasn't tan or buff enough to show it's privates in public. 16 hours and one headache later, here goes:
You need your iPod/mp3 player, for this. It