February 19th, 2008

Toki Wartooth not a bumblebee, Toki windmilling

Dead from the neck up

Um, I should stop talking to my dog while we're on walks, because I probably look weird. Then again, I also mouth along to what ever is on my mp3 player, so... I'm weird already. :D Got in 5.3 miles today in my new trainers and I loooove Mizuno. *kisses my shoes metaphorically, as literally would be germy and smelly*

The Mister is finally back to traveling during the week and I am VERY GLAD. This is where you realize that I'm awful. I mean, I love him, obviously, but when he's home it's not a normal day and I don't have my normal routine and I'm a freak about routine. I love me some structure. And he sprawls all over the kitchen table with his messes and is a remote nomad (I swear, I have to look EVERYWHERE for the remote once he's held it. I've found it in the freezer before. Another time in the outside GRILL. ???) And he'll surprise me by saying, "let's go eat!" and it's 11. Who eats lunch at 11? I'm not into the Blue Bird special, bro. Brohan. Brotocol. Broseph Stalin. Bronan the Brobarian. Brobar the Elephant. Bromaldehyde. Bromo sapien. Brobi wan Kenbrobi. Brobrack Brotain. Bromer Pyle. Bronads. Leather Tuscabrolo. *slaps thighs twice, points guns* Ayatollah Bromeihni. Dude, I can keep going. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? More broetry? <-- the art of using the word "bro" in words. I AM NOW A WORDSMITH.

(Okay, and if you *do* eat lunch at 11, you must eat breakfast early, right? I eat breakfast around 9 am. I can't have a meal two hours later, that's CRAZY TALK.) Boys are just messy and smelly and did I mention messy? Today is a day of ORDER UND CLEANING UND VE VILL STRAIGHTEN UP ZIS MESS UND HAFF A RETURN TO ORDER! *snaps heels together*

But not until I beat GH2 on Medium. AW, YEAH, 2 songs to go! It's a Psychobilly Freakout! (I would love an icon of the "Loading" flying tape. If anyone can find that image, I will love you big time.)

9021bro. Finding Nemrbo. Das Bro (a really depressing, but important movie about a frat on a doomed U-bro. I mean, submarine.) G. I. Brooooooooooo!