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What the hell is up with my internal alarm clock? Every workday for the past week and a half, it's been waking me up every morning at precisely 6:50. Not that I don't appreciate it, because it makes my morning longer, but still, weird.

All righty, then. First, to straighten my hair. Then, to write until I get at least one real chapter finished before I leave for work. Only three work days until the weekend, only three work days until the weekend ...

Oh, did you hear that according to Cheney, if we vote for Kerry, terrorists will attack again? No, Dick ... see, if you want me to vote for you, then tell me that if Bush gets elected, he'll nuke the planet. I'll get my fancy apocalypse, plus I might have to deal with fewer idiots every day.

(no subject)

( That movie meme I haven't gotten to do yet. )

Also, you know what I want? An animated icon with Boo chasing after something. Good for posts when I act like a squealing, stalkerish fangirl. ;)

*points to icon, squees at top of lungs*

Dear Jesus,

You are incredibly cool, tons of fun, and probably know all of the best dirty jokes. I would like to hang out with you. However, your more stupid followers are not allowed to come or bring their crappy, crappy fanfic.

Sincerely,

Me

Also, political RPS. In the New Yorker. No, really.