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Damn

Hoypoy had the gall to ask if there was “anything more” to my site. Well, true. There is nothing, despite my initial plans and my ever growing suggestions list, but my weblog and fiona’s weblog. Let’s explore a couple of the plans I have, but will not implement any time soon due to a lack of time and energy

  1. Reviews - I have an opinion on everything, and nobody is safe from my arrogance.
  2. Arts - I was considering finishing my screenplay, which would be cool, but I suppose I could also post poetry, photography, music, graphic art, et cetera
  3. Matt’s Haiku Movie Reviews - Matt “the slasher” Muir works in a video store. He likes crazy movies and dislikes good movies (read: his favourite movie is Electric Boogaloo and his most hated movie is Lord of the Rings). He reviews movies in haiku form.
  4. Cooking with Deb - Instant mashed potato is the staple of the poor college kid living away from home. There’s more you can do with it than just use it as a fucking side dish

Given that Garth’s roommates arrive home today, I’ve moved back with my parents (who might not be selling the house after all, crazy bastards). It’s nice to be back in a sea of queen sized beddery, though it’s making my back hurt like a motherfucker... so I think some “sleeping technique enhancement” may be in order.

Oh yeah, how could I forget, it was my birthday yesterday. worst. birthday. ever, as predicted. No presents, only money. Fiona collapsed with severe abdominal pain and nausea, so I spent much of the night in the emergency ward. Work was, well.. work. We had a blackout, which is panic stations when you work in the FRIDGE which has NO AUXILLIARY POWER for some reason, and that about sums it up. The lunch I’m having today (for friends, which means you aren’t invited) will probably flop, since I only thought of actually celebrating my birthday at the last minute, so invitations (SMS, of course) were very last minute.

At least I have DSL back.


Addendum

mmm... beer

Lunch lifted the suckiness level of my birthday. Or rather, dropped it. It raised the suckiness from it, thereby lowering the suckiness level.

Fiona: boy?
Clarko: yes girl?
Fiona: nothing.
Clarko: really?
Fiona: yes really.
Clarko: oh
Fiona: oh indeed.
Fiona: what are you doing?
Clarko: nothing
Fiona: really?
Clarko: i might have a beer. remember how i planned to drink a beer before bed every night, but never bought any beer?
Fiona: yes. have a heineken.
Clarko: can do