"He'll sit there and go, Dipsy... Po... Dipsy... Po. I honestly don't think he knows colors. Just Teletubbies."


"Is gassy spelled with two S's or three?" --Beans on Even Stevens

B-squared and Betty will get that one. Those of you who don't, you really, truly do not want to know.

I am trying to think of something more interesting to say. I got nothin'. I spent all my free iTunes songs. "Girl from Mars" by Ash is quite a good song; so is their song "A Life Less Ordinary" on the soundtrack of (duh) A Life Less Ordinary.

Gods. My life is boring. I cannot even think of something witty to say about its dullness. I need some sleep. I think I have slept all of six hours this week. I only sleep like a normal human being when I need sleep desperately. Usually, I will stay up all night until about four in the morning just reading or writing or doing friggin' crossword puzzles. I don't need the sleep, really, to run like a healthy human being, so I utilise it in slightly more useful ways, and, when I need sleep, I will sleep normally. So it's not that freakish, just a bit hyperactive. Although there was one night on vacation when I could not sleep because I kept hearing these very realistic (read: not in my head) cat noises outside on the deck. So maybe my sleep habits are freakish. I don't know.

What is happening to my writing skills? I'm discussing my warped sleeping habits as if people actually care. Perhaps it was all the gas I was exposed to last night. (Yes, I Febreezed my room. It doesn't smell any better.)


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