Welpdee welpdee whelp.

Lemme just-a say that this is Megan's brain talking to you, but right now Megan decided to give me the night off.

Hold on, hold on, hoooooooold your horses y'all -- I've got a good one. Just one. Just one good one. Hoop.

Forehead?!

More like... FIVEhead!

Applause would be nice, because I thought of that one right now because of the marijuana that I smoked. And I remembered to high five the how to write in html.

This has all has taken me four minutes to type. I hope you appriciate the extra mile I'm going for you by actually watching what I type so you don't have to read my dipshit spelling mistakes later.

The letters are coming oooooouttttttttttttttt in slowbeeoot motiiiiiiiiiooooooon!

So much for that idea!

Actually I think that my dad has been smoking up the past few nights in his bathroom.... AGAIN! I must even the score! He has the Santa Claus advantage! I got nothin'!

They thought it would be wise to go out tonight and see "13 going on 30" starring Jenifier Love Gardeneraniston.

You know, even though my voice box is hiding out near the ceiling right now, I think we could pull it together and actually talk like a normal human being.

But it's cool because I loff waffles!

But I keep on twitching. If I were a windup doll I would be a sandwich called "Megan the Twitching Submarine Sandwich" and you'd wind me up and I'd say stupid stuff while I twitched at you.

HA! FIVEHEAD!

All I have to say to you is -- I keep on coming up with songs in my head and I gotta gotta gotta write some jibba jabba down to coolstown.

I have never reminded myself more of Samuel L. Jackson. (That L not for LOSER it is French for L'AWESOME).

Okay I just wrote a song and I am the only rock star cowgirl spacernaut to ever sorta have freckles sometimes.

I am going to call my song "Trampoline Suicide" because I think not nearly enough attention is paid to the number one circus death anymore.

Well I think it's about time to stop being polite, and start eatin' waffles!

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