first off i would like to thanks the tempestuous bitch goddess that is in control ov seattle weather for making sunday the first break in the rain. thanks bitch goddess; i was so hung over that there was no way in hell i was going outside. even if you had decided to make it rain free money and LSD i was feeling so bad i couldn't have crawled outside even in my robe to fill my pockets and lick the front porch. so the next day i'm feeling fine and what do you do? buckets and buckets ov that wet stuff. so inside again for this poor fucker. thanks for today though, you tempestuous slut you.
you'd think that i would have posted this yesterday what with being inside all day and all, but i have a theory about that. you see, Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream. why did he have a dream? cuz he got to sleep in. then, when he woke up from that dream, he had chicken and beer. who am i to argue with greatness, that's what i'd like to know.
lest one think that all i do is drink and lay around the house, i'd just like to say that yesterday i did leave the house for a while, albeit in my sweatpants, and while i was away from the home i was at the gym. i shuffled my feet back 'n forth like an industrious hamster on one ov those eliptical trainers and stretched out and stuff. i even put books on the bookshelf here in the living room. then, and only then, did i allow myself the sweet tastes ov chicken and beer.
pretend i wrote this yesterday, and that all the tenses that should be changed for me to have written this yesterday were just me seeing into the future.
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