wait, voltron is okay.

turturous maze3 of internet failings, my below-par typing abilities, and too much caffeine in my bloodstream. i thought i brewed up a cup of decaf chai, but no, i most definitely did not. maybe if i sit here and type about really crappy boring stuff i can finally get to sleep. fuck the sheep.

and these are:

the color mauve

shitty eighties fold up lawn chairs

my black target flip-flops

burnt oatmeal

wal-mart signs and wal-martish smiley faces

dirty black stains on my socks

ink pens that refuse to work (especially ink pens in the recent few moments)

holes in my jeans

BUsh

voltron

Miley Cyrus

cat shit

bunyuns

ingrown nails with shiny maroon polish

well, at least it's raining. now the dog shit out back can grow more pit bulls. =)

wait, voltron is okay.