six o'clock in the morning, you're the last to hear the warning

because i'm effing challenged.

have a dose of hello:

i am irrevocably fucked for my exam tomorrow and i can't be arsed to care. what's twenty percent of a mark, really? von ranke and meinecke and bury and trevelyan can go frack themselves. ok, actually, i like trevvy- he can come and hang out with me and we'll play cricket. but everyone else- shabam!

we have a mouse in our house and we've baited all the traps with peanut butter. now, i know mice like peanut butter, but something tells me that our mouse is kind of a chocolate whore [as he was first seen trying to steal a choclate kiss] and that perhaps chocolate would have been a better choice for bait.

every person needs a creature. i'm partial to cats, but a certain snorting boston terrier seems to have wormed her way into my catalouge of acceptable creatures. i can do without the drool though, realistically. slimed marmee-gators are a bit much sometimes.

any greyhound bus ride is ruined when people suck face for most of the trip.

any greyhound bus ride is rendered awesome by the presence of mini-eggs and the x-files.

the subway will fascinate me until the day i die. especially when the drivers pull into the station at top speed when i am standing two feet from the edge of the platform, surrounded by three hundred people, all going "oooooooooooooh!" at the same time. but, i mean, it would fasciante me without the top speed oooooh-inducing factor as well. i think it's the fake underground wind.

no matter how many times i go to toronto, i am never going to be able to figure out north and south in that city. ever. or understand why construction happens at two in the morning.

i know he's an asshole, but i still love bono. and i missed the edge's meatburger effect a lot in the the past few weeks. there's something about that sound that still makes me want to stay up late with a candle and a cigarette and a piece of blank paper and a deep, rich, round pen- lines flowing like rivers in an attempt to capture something. anything. one thing.

i had that dream about virginia again last night. i think i know who she belongs to now. i think bringing it up might be weird. i think dreaming her in the first place was weird, but i can imagine how that conversation would play out, me trying to find the words, using weird nature metaphors, focusing on the ocean in the background. why the bloody ocean? i really do wonder.

i secretly love warm ginger ale.

today, i managed to get away with not putting on serious pants. but the pants i ended up wearing kind of made me feel like mc hammer. they're old hospital pants [i always wonder who wore them, if they were ever used in an institution, and if they were, what kind of institution? a hannibal lector-like institution? a plain old hospital? a place like newgate? or gotham asylum? i think the asylum could be wicked. in various and nefarious ways] faded and soft and about sixteen sizes too big. come over- we'll have a party in them.

[pervert]

i think i'm going to go to bed without having read through all of my notes even once.

muahahahahaha.