So I've come to the conclusion that I have fat earlobes. The rest of me is pretty normal-sized; my earlobes are just strangely obese.

It doesn't bother me, it's just weird.

I've been wrestling with the matter for nearly 28 seconds.

Oh yeah, and I need to start eating dinner earlier than 10:12PM.

And Mrs. Singer can lick a camel's bootyhole.

And I got reviewed. Thanks for the car.

And the song "For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her" by Simon and Garfunkel is very incredible. Someday I want someone to sing it to me. Even though my name isn't Emily. That's just how good a song it is.

And it wasn't Halloween when this picture was taken. But that doesn't bother little 3 year old me.

Also, my tuckis hurts. Not really, I just wanted an excuse to type "tuckis."

Also, the song "59th Street Bridge" is almost as happy as Ned Flanders. Allow me to quote,

"Hello lamp post, whatcha knowin'? I've come to watch your flowers growin'. Ain't ya got no rhymes for me? Doot-in' doo-doo, feelin' groovy! Dadadada da da da, feelin' groovy!"

I want to give that song a big hug; but then leave really quickly, because it's just a bit too ecstatic. That's all.

P.S. - Will someone please sign my damned guestbook? It really says something when 23 people visit my website in 12 hours and no one wants me to know about it. Redeem yourself, shady website visiter. Show me that neither you nor I are freaks; but normal people who occasionally exchange witty banter with each other. People, people! I need some validation, please.

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