monster sarcasm rally

I meant to spend my vacation writing. I really did.

Sadly, my desk is piled up to the ceiling with crap I haven't bothered to put away. What can I say: it's a horizontal surface and the first law of horizontal surfaces is that they must be piled full of random crap. Also, for several days there was no chair in my room. Standing in front of a desk piled with junk isn't conducive to most writing endeavours.

What's happened over the past week? Funny you should ask... Because the answer isn't very interesting, but I'm going to share it anyways.

Hot Guy returned from his trip to New York and announced that he had joined the crew of a German reality TV show historical boat. He'll be leaving the country the day after tomorrow. This sucks, but at least I may once again be able to concentrate on things other than his beautiful arms.

I have decided to rechristen English as Ford. You know why... And if you don't, then clearly you are not a geek. He really has no clue about life on this planet and how it works. But he's charming and he means well. And he's just so gosh-darned entertaining.

We have a new character to add to the roster. His name will be Shane. As in MacGowan...

I bought a new chair. It rocks. I wish I were sitting on it right now, but it's in the dining room in front of my other computer. It entertains Beandog greatly when I roll around the room. He fears for my safety and tries to rescue me from the chair's evil clutches. My dog rocks!

I had a tremendously disturbing experience a month ago. I got my hair cut really short and made an alarming discovery: my hair is brown. For frig's sake! I haven't got brown hair! I finally took myself to the hairdresser this past week and demanded this be rectified immediately. I said I didn't care what colour it was, so long as it wasn't brown. It's deep, bright red now. My hair rocks!

I ate some chocolate. And by some I mean approximately my own body weight. Chocolate rocks!

I bought some new shirts at a Boxing Day sale. They make me look like I have cleavage. Cleavage rocks! So does Boxing Day.

The Incredible Puking Wonderdog (AKA the Stinky Monkey) puked. A lot. Puking sucks! Cleaning it up sucks more. Cleaning up multiple pukes really, really sucks.

Things I didn't do could fill a much longer list, but writing it would depress me. Oh, I haven't updated the standings of my readers and their various points. I'll try to get around to tallying everything up tomorrow.

Merry Monday to all and to all a good night.