The popcorn rocks are popping. Slowly. They won't reach their full potential until all that vinegar evaporates. The kitchen still reeks, but anything for science, right?
I'm in the middle of some epic premenstrual crabbiness, which I've been trying to keep from spewing all over other people. It helps to imagine everything around me black and smoldering as if after a flash fire, with the screams of my enemies coming from all directions. Except I don't really have enemies, so I have to imagine them too. Man, are they fuckers! Their howls of agony sound so sweet.
Is this healthy? Potato chips help too.
I've been riding my bike to work the past couple of days. It's not a very long ride, but it's a little tough because I have to ride against the wind on the way there and uphill on the way back. I gasp a lot. It's fun. If I do that and come home and drink a few beers, I sleep like a (premenstrual) baby.
Ugh. Shutting up as of the typing of this sentence, which is ending...now.